only ten years old, by the will of their dying father, and grown up
under his eye as his child, rather than a sister. And he was
hearing, for the first time, of her desire to quit the home they had
shared together from her birth, for the protection and companionship
of another. Mrs. Sutton thought herself pretty well versed in
"Winston's ways," but she had expected to detect a shade of softness
in the cold, never-bright eyes and anticipated another rejoinder
than the sentence that stands at the head of this chapter.

"And so you know nothing of this gentleman beyond what he has told
you of his character and antecedents?" he said--the slender white
fingers, his aunt fancied, looked cruel even in their idleness,
lightly linked together while his elbows restod upon the arms of his
chair.

"My dear Winston! what a question! Haven't I told you that he is my
husband's namesake and godson! I was at his fathers house a score of
times, at least, in dear Frederic's life-time. It was a charming
place, and I never saw a more lovely family. I recollect this boy
perfectly, as was very natural, seeing that his name was such a
compliment to my husband. He was a fine, manly little fellow, and
the eldest son. The christening-feast was postponed, for some reason
I do not now remember, until he was two years old. It was a very
fine affair. The company was composed of the very elite of that part
of Maryland, and the Bishop himself baptized the two
babies--Frederic, and a younger sister. I know all about him, you
see, instead of nothing!"

"What was the date of this festival?" asked Winston's unwavering
voice.