“Yes,” said Katherine, with a sigh, “everything is changed.”

“Fortunately!” cried the exultant Mrs. Ormonde, opening the door of a luxuriously appointed nursery.

“Here, nurse, I have brought Miss Liddell to see Master Ormonde.”

A middle-aged woman, well dressed, and of authoritative aspect, rose from where she sat at needle-work, and came forward.

“I have only just got him to sleep, ma’am,” she said, almost in a whisper, “and if he is awoke now, I’ll not get him off again before midnight.”

“We’ll be very careful, nurse.  Is he not a fine little fellow, Katherine?” and she softly turned back the bedclothes from the sturdy, chubby child, who had a somewhat bull dog style of countenance and a beautifully fair skin.

“How ridiculously like Colonel Ormonde he is!” whispered Katherine.  “I do not see any trace of you.”

“No; he is quite an Ormonde.  He is twice as big as either Cis or Charlie was at his age.”

After a few civil comments Katherine suggested their visiting the other children.

“Perhaps it would be wiser not to go,” said the mother; “they will not be so sound asleep as baby, and——­”

“You must indulge me this once, Ada.  I long to look at them.”

“Oh! of course, dear; ring for Eliza, nurse; she will show Miss Liddell the way.  I must go back; it would never do to leave Lady Alice so long alone.”

“Do not apologize,” said Katherine, with a curious jealous pang, as she noted Mrs. Ormonde’s indifference to the children of her first poor love-match.

A demure, flat-faced girl answered the bell, and led Katherine down passages and up a crooked stair to another part of the house.

Here she was shown into a room sparsely supplied with old furniture.  There was a good fire, and a shaded lamp stood on a large table, where a girl sat writing.

“Here is a lady to see the young gentlemen,” said the nurse-maid.  The young scribe started up, looking confused.

“If it would not disturb them,” said Katherine, gently, “I should like to see my nephews in their sleep.”

“Oh, Miss Liddell!” exclaimed the governess, a younger, commoner-looking person than Katherine had chosen before she left England.  “This is their bedroom,” and she led Katherine through a door opposite the fireplace into an inner room.  There in their little beds lay the boys who were all of kith or kin left to Katherine Liddell.

How lovingly she bent over and gazed at them!

Cecil had grown much.  He looked sunburnt and healthy.  One arm was thrown up behind his head, the other stretched straight and stiff beside him, ending in a closely clinched little brown fist.  His lips, slightly apart, emitted the softly drawn regular breath of profound slumber, and the smile which some pleasant thought had conjured up before he closed his eyes still lingered round his mouth.  Katherine longed to kiss him, but feared to break