"Ah!" replied Kate, and she said no more. We entered the parlour. Cornelius sat down, made me sit down by him, and chafed my cold hands in his. He chid me rather severely, forbade me ever to do such a thing again, said he was very angry, and ended by taking me in his arms and kissing me. Kate had never uttered one word of reproof, but she looked unusually grave. As I sat by her brother, indulged and caressed, spite of my foolish disobedience, I had an unpleasant consciousness of her look being fastened on us both, and shunned it by keeping mine pertinaciously fixed on the kind face which, as if to efface all memory of the past, now seemed unable to look down at me with anger or displeasure. "Cornelius!" at length said Kate. "Well!" he replied, looking from me to her. "Do you remember the story of Goethe's Mignon?" Cornelius reddened, turned pale, reddened again, and looked both irritated and ashamed. "What about it, Kate?" he asked at length. "Nothing." she quietly replied, "only I think of it now and then." Cornelius did not reply; but he slowly turned towards me, and as I sat by his side, my two hands clasped on his shoulder and my head resting on them, I saw him give me a look so troubled and so strange, that I could not help asking-- "What is it, Cornelius?" "Nothing," he replied hastily, "but don't you think you had better go to bed?" "Well then, good-night, Cornelius;" I attempted to bend his face to mine; he looked annoyed, and averted it impatiently. "I knew you were vexed with me for having waited for you outside," I observed, feeling ready to cry; "I am sure of it now; that is why you won't kiss me." Cornelius bit his lip, and, giving my forehead an impatient kiss, said, shortly-- "There, child, are you satisfied?" "Well, but am I not to kiss you?" I asked in the same tearful tone. "Please yourself," he replied, resignedly allowing me to embrace him. "I am sure you are still vexed with me," I said, lingering over the caress as children will, "you speak so sharply, and look so cross." He smiled; his brow smoothed; he looked from me to his sister. "Oh! Kate," he said, "she is such a mere child," and with a sudden return of kindness he again made me sit down by him. "Indeed, I am not such a child!" I said, rather piqued, "and you need not make me out such a little girl either, Cornelius, for you are only ten years older than I am." "Only ten years! Why, my dear, the Roman Lustrum consisted of five years, and the Greek Olympiad of four. So that, if I were a grave Roman, I should twice have offered solemn sacrifices to the Gods, or if I were a sprightly young Greek I should twice, and a little bit over, have distinguished myself in the Olympic Games by chariot-driving, racing, leaping, throwing, wrestling, boxing, and other gentlemanly pastimes,-- and all this, Midge, whilst you were still in your cradle! Why, you are a mere baby to me."