"You see the poor child is as mad as ever," said Kate. "I hope she has been a good girl in my absence," he observed, rather gravely. "Of course she has." "Learnt her lessons well?" "Bless the boy!" exclaimed Kate, "does he think she is still a little girl? Don't you find her altered?" "Oh yes, she has grown." "Grown! grown!" impatiently said his sister, "of course she has! do you not think she has improved?" "She seems much stronger." Miss O'Reilly looked disappointed. Cornelius questioned me concerning my studies; I answered to his satisfaction; he stroked my hair and called me a good child. "It is very odd you will persist in calling Daisy a child," drily said Miss O'Reilly. "Well, am I not his child?" I asked. "Nonsense!" she replied, looking provoked. "Indeed, I am his adopted daughter," I said eagerly. "I never yet heard that a man of twenty-six or so had a daughter near seventeen," was her ironical reply. Cornelius smiled; but I warmly vindicated our relationship. "I am very glad he is so young," I observed. "Most girls have old fathers; mine is not old; he will live the longer." Cornelius laughed; his sister said "Pish!" and Jane, by bringing in the supper-tray, closed the conversation. Indeed our discourse was of the most desultory kind. Although Cornelius protested that he was not in the least fatigued, having rested in London before coming to us, Kate would not hear of our sitting up. She made me leave him just as I was beginning to talk to him of his painting. To comfort me she confidently informed me as we went upstairs, that a large wooden case in the back parlour contained his pictures; to this intelligence she added, with a significant look-- "He has not got entangled after all." CHAPTER IV. We were not prepared for the sudden return of Cornelius; his room was neither aired nor ready; Miss O'Reilly accordingly gave him up her own apartment, and slept with me. She complained of my restlessness; well she might! tossed on a sea of unquiet joy, I scarcely slept. I woke and rose early. The morning was bright and gay, and my little room overflowed with sunshine. "Now, Daisy," said Kate, in a tone of remonstrance, "you need not be in such a hurry: he is not awake yet, child!" I was opening the window as she spoke. I drew back quickly, for it looked on the garden; I was but half-dressed, and, though I saw no one, the fresh breeze brought me the scent of a cigar. My heart leaped with joy, and something seemed to say within me, "Yes, yes, he is come back." "Not awake!" I exclaimed aloud, "why he is already in the garden! Oh! Kate, do help me to fasten on my dress." "Not that dingy, everyday grey thing!" decisively said Miss O'Reilly, "he hates dull colours." She went to my drawers, and drew forth a light blue muslin. "But it has short sleeves!" I observed, a little uneasily, "and it looks so dressy!"