“It is hard, very hard for you, dear, I know; it would be for me in your place; but we must just try to make the best of it.”

“Yes,” sobbed Evelyn; “but I could hardly feel more fully orphaned if my mother were dead.  And papa has not been gone a year.  Oh, how could she! how could she!  You see, aunt Elsie, she talks of my joining her as soon as I am my own mistress; but how can I ever think of it now?”

“We—­your uncle and I—­would be very loath to give you up, darling; and, if you can only be content, I think you may always have a happy home here, with us,” Elsie said, with another tender caress.

“Dear auntie, you and uncle have made it a very happy home to me,” returned Evelyn gratefully, wiping away her tears as she spoke, and forcing a rather sad sort of smile.  “I should be as sorry to leave it as you could possibly be to have me do so.”

Evelyn was of a very quiet temperament, rarely indulging in bursts of emotion of any kind; and Elsie soon succeeded in restoring her to calmness, though her eyes still showed traces of tears; and her expressive features again wore the look of gentle sadness that was their wont in the first weeks of her sojourn at Fairview, but which had gradually changed to one of cheerfulness and content.

“Now, Eva, dear, it is time we were getting ready for our drive to Ion,” Elsie said.  “Shall I help you change your dress?”

“I—­I think, if you will excuse me, auntie,” Evelyn returned, with hesitation, “I should prefer to stay at home.  I’m scarcely in the mood for merry-making.”

“Of course, you shall do just as you like, dear child,” was the kindly response; “but it is only to be a family party, and you need not be mixed up with any fun or frolic,—­I don’t suppose there will be any thing of the kind going on,—­and you will probably enjoy a private chat with your bosom-friend, Lulu.  You know, there are plenty of corners where you can get together by yourselves.  I think you would find it lonely staying here, and Lulu would not half enjoy her evening without you.”

“You are right, auntie:  I will go,” Evelyn answered, more cheerfully than she had spoken since reading her letter.  “I will dress at once, but shall not need any help except advice about what I shall wear.”

Elsie gave it, and, saying the carriage would be at the door in half an hour, went back to her own apartments, to attend to the proper adornment of her own pretty person.

Soon after her little talk with grandma Elsie and mamma Vi, Lulu, still unable to banish the anxiety which made her restless and uneasy, wandered out into the shrubbery, where she presently met Max.

“I’ve been all round the place,” he said; “and I tell you, Lu, it’s in prime order:  every thing’s as neat as a pin.  Don’t the grounds look lovely, even after Viamede?”

“Yes,” she sighed, glancing round from side to side with a melancholy expression of countenance quite unusual with her.