'Yes, I am Lucy,' was the well-pleased answer, 'I am glad you are
come.'

'I hope we shall be very good friends,' said Albinia, with the sweet
smile that few, young or old, could resist. 'And this is Gilbert,'
as she kissed the blushing cheek of a thin boy of thirteen--'and
Sophia.'

Sophia, who was eleven, had not stirred to meet her. She alone
inherited her father's fine straight profile, and large black eyes,
but she had the heaviness of feature that sometimes goes with very
dark complexions. The white frock did not become her brown neck and
arms, her thick black hair was arranged in too womanly a manner, and
her head and face looked too large; moreover, there was no lighting-up
to answer the greeting, and Albinia was disappointed.

Poor child, she thought, she is feeling deeply that I am an
interloper, it will be different now her father is coming.

Mr. Kendal was crossing the hall, and as he entered he took the hand
and kissed the forehead of each of the three, but Sophia stood with
the same half sullen indifference--it might be shyness, or
sensibility.

'How much you are grown!' he said, looking at the children with some
surprise.

In fact, though Albinia knew their ages, they were all on a larger
scale than she had expected, and looked too old for the children of a
man of his youthful appearance. Gilbert had the slight look of rapid