me how to train it. It is a bad look-out for me, I can tell you, and not
one of you would care to be in my shoes."

"What is the trouble, Ned?" asked a new-comer, opening the door and
glancing at the amused faces of those surrounding Sir Edward, all of
whom seemed to be keenly enjoying their host's perplexity.

"He has received a legacy to-day, that is all," was the response; "he
has had an orphan niece and nurse sent to him from some remote place in
the Highlands. Come, give us your case again, old fellow, for the
benefit of your cousin."

Sir Edward, a grave, abstracted-looking man, with an iron-grey
moustache and dark, piercing eyes, looked up with a desponding shake of
the head, and repeated slowly and emphatically--

"A widowed sister of mine died last year, and left her little girl in
the charge of an old school friend, who has now taken a husband to
herself and discarded the child, calmly sending me the following
letter:--

'DEAR SIR: Doubtless you will remember that
your sister's great desire on her death-bed was that
you should receive her little one and bring her up
under your own eye, being her natural guardian
and nearest relative. Hearing, however, from you
that you did not at that time feel equal to the
responsibility, I came forward and volunteered to
take her for a short while till you had made
arrangements to receive her. I have been expecting