'I suppose so. Well, we must just do what we are bid, and never grumble; perhaps some way of helping may turn up. Let us put it in our prayers at night. O dear, what is the matter with Dobbin ?' as that patient creature uttered a plaintive squeak, and actually broke into a trot of his own accord.

'I declare the Imp has bitten his ear,' cried Bryan. 'Look, it is actually bleeding!'

Poor Dobbin had to be consoled; his ear had to be washed and tied up in Katie's handkerchief; it was really badly bitten. And naturally, after all these delays, the twins saw the train puffing away in the far distance, having left the station before they reached the top of the hill from which it became visible. They looked at one another in dismay, and then Bryan, riding up beside poor Dobbin, so used his little riding whip that the pace down the hill was break-neck, and quite justified a stout elderly lady, who was standing in the doorway of the station, in screaming to her husband for aid; only she must have known very little about horses (or ponies) not to know that screams might have done more harm than good. At the sound of her cries, three men, or rather two men and a tall, strong-looking lad of perhaps eighteen, came running out of the station; and at the sight of one of these men and the lad, the twins set up a joyful yell.

Uncle Bryan-Wilfred! O Will, my dear, ain't we glad to see you? Bryan, isn't this too happy?'

'Won't Ned envy us?' screamed Bryan, as he jumped off the Imp's back, abandoning that sweet-tempered quadruped to his own devices, while he and Katie, who had made one spring into her brother Wilfred's arms, hugged first him and then Uncle Bryan to their heart's content. And it was not a little hugging that contented

the warm little hearts. gentleman (who had 'sailor' written on every inch of his person) looked on with broad smiles of sympathy and delight, saying one to the other:

The stout lady and the other

'If only that little lass of ours had been spared to us!'

M

CHAPTER II.

THE DRIVE HOME.

Y little rogues, my little rogues!' cried Uncle
Bryan in a choked voice, as he held the two
slight creatures in his arms, 'how changed
you are!
I don't know my two sturdy

monkeys again. Are all at home as changed as you are?' They are not all as much longer,' answered Katie, between laughing and crying.

'Eh? That savours of the old Katie, I think. But what brought you down to the station? for Will and I fondly hoped we were taking you by surprise.'

'So you did,' answered Bryan; but Katie's countenance suddenly expressed the deepest horror.

'Bryan! Oh, and mother bid us be so careful to be polite and we've never so much as looked for Uncle Jack and Aunt Cassie yet!'

Bryan stared at her dismally.

A

'I'd forgotten all about them,' said he candidly. perfect roar of laughter made the whole party turn round with a start. The lady and gentleman of whom I have spoken were close to them, and they were the laughers. 'Bryan,' whispered Katie, as regardless of grammar as

ever were the monks of Rheims, 'that's them, and the Imp has run away, and we've been very rude, and what on earth are we to do now?'

Before Bryan could offer any suggestion, the strange gentleman ceased laughing, and, laying a big brown hand on Katie's shoulder, he said in a rich jolly voice, which was so pleasant that you could hardly wish it less loud:

'Hold hard, my little ones. We're the people you were to look for; and don't vex yourself, little lass, for I'd rather have seen your face of delight when you sprang out of the little carriage than all the politeness in England. I'm Uncle Jack, and this is Aunt Cassie; and now tell me your name, and which of the boys is this?'

'You needn't ask, Jack,' said Aunt Cassie; 'look how alike they are. These must be the twins, Bryan and Katie, you know. And this will be Wilfred, for you

remember he was in London.'

'Right you are, Cassie. Ah, trust a woman for remembering everything! Kiss me, little Katie-that's my good little lass. Bless the child, what eyes she has!'

Indeed, Katie, in the embarrassment of the moment, might almost be said to be all eyes! She now began to introduce the new arrivals to each other, laboriously anxious to retrieve her character for politeness.

'This is Uncle Bryan, sir, and we didn't even know that he was in England, so you must forgive us for being so happy. Uncle Bryan, this is Captain Mayne, mother's uncle, you know. And we were sent here to bring them home.'

Uncle Bryan, a tall, fair man, with long moustaches, and a careless, weary air even now, in all the excitement of the moment, bowed to the sailor and to the lady, who he took it for granted was Mrs. Mayne. Bryan, who had

B

darted away after the Imp, now returned leading him in triumph, having found him in a pond a little way off, hunting ducks for his private amusement, regardless of consequences. Wilfred, who had never spoken since he had recognised the twins, and who was making the most extraordinary faces in the attempt to conceal his emotion, now went to his assistance.

'Oh, thank you, Will; the side-saddle's in the phaeton. Katie is to ride home. You must go in the cart with the trunks; there it is, it came down earlier; and there's the porter with 'the trunks. Uncle Bryan must drive Dobbin, and Uncle Jack and Aunt Cassie must go with him.'

And how will you go?' asked Wilfred, in so hoarse a voice that the boy started.

'Have you got a sore throat?' he said, with such a look of alarm that Wilfred laughed.

'Not I, Bryan; I have not run home to be nursed; and I suppose there's no danger of infection now?'

'Oh no; it was all that nasty old drain, that had been ruined by rats, they say. I don't understand why a drain in the kitchen could give us all diphtheria, but they say it did; and now it is set right again, and there's no danger. But oh, Will, there's more changes than that we've all been ill!'

'Don't, boy,' said the elder lad roughly; 'I shall be making an ass of myself if you say a word. You have not told me how you are to get home yet.'

'I must walk, I suppose,' said Bryan.

'You don't look fit for a five-mile walk this hot day. No, no, you must drive Dobbin; Uncle Bryan can go in the cart; and I'll walk part of the way, and get a lift from the cart on the level bits.'