“And how much longer does Ned intend being away from us?” demanded Emmeline, after a long pause.

“He cannot give us any idea yet,” answered her mother; “perhaps some time next year.  They were to cruise off the shores of South America these autumnal months, and winter, Edward thinks, off Buenos Ayres.  He is pleased at this, as he will see so very much more of the New World than he expected, when he left us.’”

“What an entertaining companion he will be when he returns,” exclaimed Emmeline.

“Or rather ought to be, Emmeline,” remarked Ellen, quietly.

“Now, what an insinuation!  Ellen, you are too bad to-night, and against your brother, of all persons in the world.  It is just like the ill compliment you paid him on his gallantry in saving the Syren and all her crew—­absolutely would not believe that your brother Edward and the young hero of my tale were one and the same person.”

“I can forgive her scepticism then,” said Mrs. Hamilton, affectionately.  “The extraordinary efforts you described were indeed almost beyond credence, when known to have been those of a lad but just seventeen; but I hope my Ellen is no longer a sceptic as to the future fame and honour of her brother,” she added, kindly addressing her niece.

“Oh, I dare not indulge in one half the bright visions, the fond hopes that will intrude themselves upon my mind for him,” exclaimed Ellen, with involuntary energy.

“Why, Ellen, are you sometimes a victim to the freaks of imagination as well as myself?” asked her cousin, laughing.

“I have frequently compelled myself to seek active employment,” answered Ellen, “lest those hopes should be indeed but fading visions, and my disappointment more painfully bitter.”

“You do your brother injustice in even fancying disappointment,” said her aunt, playfully, “and I must act as defendant for the absent.  I believe, say, and protest my firm belief, that the name of Edward Fortescue will stand one of the highest in naval fame, both as a commander and a man.  The naval honour of my family will, I feel assured, have a worthy representative in my noble nephew, and I will not have one word breathed in doubt or mistrust on the subject.”

“If you think so, then I may hope indeed,” Ellen said with earnestness.  “And the recollection of the past”—­

“Must heighten anticipations for the future, my dear girl, or I must sentence them to perpetual banishment.  Condemn them never to be recalled,” interrupted Mrs. Hamilton, still more playfully, and then added—­

“Emmeline, have you no wish to know how the object of your kind sympathy, poor Lilla, parted from her father and me to day?”

“I quite forgot all about it, mamma; this Oakwood hour has made me so selfish.  I thought of no one but ourselves,” replied Emmeline.  “Gratify my curiosity now.  Did Lady Helen evince any sorrow at the separation?”