exclamation from her little brother.

"Oh, Cecile! Oh, look, look!"

Maurice pointed with an eager finger to a woman who, neatly dressed
from head to foot in black, was walking in front of them.

"'Tis--'tis Aunt Lydia Purcell--'tis wicked Aunt Lydia Purcell,"
said Maurice.

Cecile felt her very heart standing still; her breath seemed to
leave her--her face felt cold. Before she could stir a step or utter
an exclamation the figure in black turned quickly and faced the
children. No doubt who she was. No doubt whose cold gray eyes were
fixed on them. Cecile and Maurice, huddling close together, gazed
silently. Aunt Lydia came on. She looked at the little pair, but when
she came up to them, passed on without a word or sign of apparent
recognition.

"Oh! come home, Cecile, come home," said Maurice.

They were now in the street where the Moseleys lived, and as they
turned in at the door, Cecile looked round. Lydia Purcell was
standing at the corner and watching them.




CHAPTER X.