‘It’s dreadful,’ said Gillian.

’My dear, if you want to keep your sisters to yourself, you should not let them go to India, said Aunt Ada.

’They said they wouldn’t!  They were quite angry at the notion of being so commonplace,’ said Gillian.

‘Oh, no one knows till her time comes!’ said Aunt Jane.

Gillian now applied herself to her mother’s letter, which was also short.

’My dearest gillyflower—–­I know this will be a great blow to you, as indeed it was to me; but we must not be selfish, and must remember that the sisters’ happiness and welfare is the great point.  I wish I could write to you more at length; but time will not let me, scattered as are all my poor flock at home.  So I must leave you to learn the bare public facts from Aunt Jane, and only say my especial private words to you.  You are used to being brevet eldest daughter to me, now you will have to be so to papa, who is mending fast, but, I think, will come home with me.  Isn’t that news? 
                                        ‘Your loving mother.’

‘They have told you all about it, Aunt Jane!’ said Gillian.

’Yes; they have been so cruel as not even to tell you the names of these robbers?  Well, I dare say you had rather read my letter than hear it.’

‘Thank you very much, Aunt Jane!  May I take it upstairs with me?’

Consent was readily given, and Gillian had just time for her first cursory reading before luncheon.

’Dearest Jenny—–­Fancy what burst upon me only the day after my coming—–­though really we ought to be very thankful.  You might perhaps have divined what was brewing from the letters.  Jasper knew of one and suspected the other before the accident, and he says it prevented him from telegraphing to stop me, for he was sure one or both the girls would want their mother.  Phyllis began it.  Hers is a young merchant just taken into the great Underwood firm.  Bernard Underwood, a very nice fellow, brother to the husband of one of Harry May’s sisters—–­very much liked and respected, and, by the way, an uncommonly handsome man.  That was imminent before Jasper’s accident, and the letter to prepare me must be reposing in Harry’s care.  Mr. Underwood came down with Claude to meet me when I landed, and I scented danger in his eye.  But it is all right—–­only his income is entirely professional, and they will have to live out here for some time to come.

’The other only spoke yesterday, having abstained from worrying his General.  He is Lord Francis Somerville, son to Lord Liddesdale, and a captain in the Glen Lorn Highlanders, who have not above a couple of years to stay in these parts.  He was with the riding party when Jasper fell, and was the first to lift him; indeed, he held him all the time of waiting, for poor Claude trembled too much.  He was an immense help through the nursing, and they