When their mutual surprise had subsided, many questions about old England were asked and answered. But it was not until after supper that their guest spoke of his own plans. Pointing to his son, he said, “I am a lonely man, with only that one tie to bind me to the world. My father and mother are dead; and as it was for their sakes only that I consented to endure the fetters of over-civilized life, I formed the resolution of coming into these Western wilds, to live with nature in her freedom and simplicity. I was not altogether selfish in this movement, for I felt confident it was the best way to form a manly character for my son. No cousin Alfred will stand in his sunshine _here_. Come, Edward,” said he, “introduce your little friend to me.” The boy sprang forward joyfully, and climbed his father’s knee. “The little friend must sit on the other knee,” said he. “Go and bring her. You are not gallant to the little lady.” But the little lady was shy. She hid herself behind a chair, and would not be easily persuaded. At last, however, her mother coaxed her to be led up to the stranger gentleman, to see him open his gold watch. He placed her on his knee and asked her name; and, emboldened by his caresses, she looked up in his face, and answered, “Teena.” He glanced inquiringly toward her mother, who, blushing slightly, answered, “I named her Eglantina; but, in her lisping way, she calls herself Teena; and we have all adopted her fashion, except grandfather, who varies it a little by calling her Teeny.” A pleased expression went over Mr. Vernon’s face, as he replied, “You did well to name her for yourself; for she resembles you, as the bud of the Eglantine resembles the blossom.” As he spoke thus, the ten intervening years rolled away like a curtain, and they both found themselves walking again in the blooming lanes of old England. * * * * *