“Uncle Brian,” repeated Agatha, wondering whether Major Harper had ever mentioned such a personage, during the two years of their acquaintance. She thought not, since her memory had always kept tenacious record of what he said about his relatives--which was at best but little. It was one of the few things in him which jarred upon Agatha's feelings--Agatha, to whose isolation the idea of a family and a home was so pathetically sweet--his seeming so totally indifferent to his own. All she knew of Major Harper's kith and kin was, that he was the eldest brother of a large family, settled somewhere down in Dorsetshire. These thoughts swept through her mind, as Agatha, repeated interrogatively “Uncle Brian?” “The same who fifteen years since took me out with him to America; my father's youngest brother. Has Frederick never told you of him? They two were great companions once.” “Oh, indeed!” And Agatha, seeing that Nathanael at least showed no dislike, but rather pleasure, in speaking of his family, thought she might harmlessly indulge her curiosity about the Harpers of Dorsetshire. “And you went away with Mr. Brian Harper, at ten years old. How could your mother part with you?” “She was dead--she died when I was born. But I ought to apologise for thus talking of family matters, which cannot interest you.” “On the contrary, they do--very much!” cried Agatha; and then blushed at her own earnestness, at which Nathanael brightened up into positive warmth. “How kind you are! how I wish you knew my sisters! It is so pleasant to me to know them at last, after writing to them and thinking about them for these many years. How you would like our home--I call it home, forgetting that I have been only a visitor, and in a short time must go back to my real home, Montreal.” “Must you indeed!” And Agatha felt sorry. She had been at once surprised and gratified by the confidential way in which this usually reserved young man talked to her, and her alone. “Why do you live in America? I hate Americans.” “Do you?” said he, smiling, as if he read her thoughts. “But I have neither Yankee blood nor education. I was English born; brought up in British Canada, and by Uncle Brian.” He spoke the latter words with a certain proud affection, as if his uncle's mere name were sufficient guarantee for himself. Agatha secretly wondered what could possibly be the reason that Major Harper had never even mentioned this personage, whom Nathanael seemed to hold in such honour. “Of course,” he continued, “though I dearly like England, though”--and he sunk his voice a little--“though now it will be doubly hard to go away, I could never think of leaving Uncle Brian to spend his old age alone in the country of his adoption.” “No, no,” returned Agatha, absently, her thoughts still running on this new Mr. Harper. “What profession is he?”