still they were strangers. Now he found himself in the same house with them, where of course the story would be told. Had not the thing been done on purpose that the story might be told there at Thompson Hall? Mrs. Brown had acceded to the proposition of the housekeeper, and was about to be taken to her room, when there was heard a sound of footsteps along the passage above and on the stairs, and a young lady came bounding on to the scene. “You have all of you come a quarter of an hour earlier than we thought possible,” said the young lady. “I did so mean to be up to receive you!” With that she passed her sister on the stairs--for the young lady was Miss Jane Thompson, sister to our Mrs. Brown--and hurried down into the hall. Here Mr. Brown, who had ever been on affectionate terms with his sister-in-law, put himself forward to receive her embraces; but she, apparently not noticing him in her ardor, rushed on and threw herself on to the breast of the other gentleman. “This is my Charles,” she said. “O Charles, I thought you never would be here!” Mr. Charles Burnaby Jones--for such was his name since he had inherited the Jones property in Pembrokeshire--received into his arms the ardent girl of his heart with all that love and devotion to which she was entitled, but could not do so without some external shrinking from her embrace. “O Charles, what is it?” she said. “Nothing, dearest--only--only--” Then he looked piteously up into Mrs. Brown’s face, as though imploring her not to tell the story. “Perhaps, Jane, you had better introduce us,” said Mrs. Brown. “Introduce you! I thought you had been travelling together, and staying at the same hotel, and all that.” “So we have; but people may be in the same hotel without knowing each other. And we have travelled all the way home with Mr. Jones without in the least knowing who he was.” “How very odd! Do you mean you have never spoken?” “Not a word,” said Mrs. Brown. “I do so hope you’ll love each other,” said Jane. “It sha’n’t be my fault if we don’t,” said Mrs. Brown. “I’m sure it sha’n’t be mine,” said Mr. Brown, tendering his hand to the other gentleman. The various feelings of the moment were too much for Mr. Jones, and he could not respond quite as he should have done. But as he was taken up-stairs to his room, he determined that he would make the best of it.