He was a remarkably tall man, with grey hair, and features not unlike Nathanael's, being regular and delicate. But their expression was much harsher, and indicative of a strong will and a settled bitterness, which only passed over when he smiled. This smile was very beautiful, and seemed to steal from his worn and hard-lined aspect at least ten years. Agatha knew who he was immediately. “Uncle Brian!” Nathanael sprang up, despite his weakness, and they grasped one another's hands as heartily as if they had not met for years. “Is this your wife?” “It is indeed; my own dear wife.” “God bless her.” Mr. Locke Harper took Agatha by the hand, and looked at her keenly. The peculiar expression either of bitterness or melancholy came over his face, but as he watched her it gradually faded off. There seemed an enchantment in the young wife's sweet looks. “You two are very happy?” They exchanged a glance, which needed no words of confirmation; but Agatha said, with a shy blush, and a womanly grace that made her sweeter-looking than ever. “We are all the happier now Uncle Brian has come home.” “Thank you, my dear. Thank your husband too, for me. I would have been lying 'full fathom five' in the Channel now, if it were not for that boy.” “That boy” sounded oddly enough, save for the world of tenderness in the phrase, and the look which accompanied it. Any one could see at once the strong attachment subsisting between the uncle and nephew. No more was betrayed, however, and they soon began a conversation as natural and unconcerned as if they had gone through no peril, and suffered no emotion. Certainly, however strong their feelings, the Harpers were not a “sentimental” family. Agatha thought, as like a dutiful wife she sat still and listened, that she had never seen any man--saving her husband of course--whose mien was so simple, yet so truly noble, as Brian Locke Harper's. She watched him with a pathetic curiosity, thinking what he must have been as a young man, with many other thoughts besides, which came from the very depths of her woman's heart. Uncle Brian talked, though in a rather fragmentary and brief fashion, of Kingcombe and of the changes he found. He never by any chance mentioned any other place than Kingcombe, until Nathanael happened to ask him where Duke was this morning? “He has ridden out.” “But I wanted to see him, and thank him for being so kind to my poor little wife. Where has he gone?” “To Thornhurst.” The word came out sharp, low, yet with a certain tone that made it unlike other words. After saying it, Uncle Brian sat moodily looking at the fire from under his eyebrows, until Agatha, with womanly wisdom, broke the silence, by speaking to her husband. “I think some time this afternoon I ought to go and see Anne Valery.” “You shall go, dear.” Uncle Brian observed, never moving his eyes from the fire, “Harriet said that she--Miss Valery--was not quite strong this winter. Was that true?”