“My wife--Catherine,” said Mr. Morton. Catherine rose eagerly, and gazed searchingly on her sister-in-law’s hard face. She swallowed the convulsive rising at her heart as she gazed, and stretched out both her hands, not so much to welcome as to plead. Mrs. Roger Morton drew herself up, and then dropped a courtesy--it was an involuntary piece of good breeding--it was extorted by the noble countenance, the matronly mien of Catherine, different from what she had anticipated--she dropped the courtesy, and Catherine took her hand and pressed it. “This is my son;” she turned away her head. Sidney advanced towards his protectress who was to be, and Mrs. Roger muttered: “Come here, my dear! A fine little boy!” “As fine a child as ever I saw!” said Mr. Morton, heartily, as he took Sidney on his lap, and stroked down his golden hair. This displeased Mrs. Roger Morton, but she sat herself down, and said it was “very warm.” “Now go to that lady, my dear,” said Mr. Morton. “Is she not a very nice lady?--don’t you think you shall like her very much?” Sidney, the best-mannered child in the world, went boldly up to Mrs. Morton, as he was bid. Mrs. Morton was embarrassed. Some folks are so with other folk’s children: a child either removes all constraint from a party, or it increases the constraint tenfold. Mrs. Morton, however, forced a smile, and said, “I have a little boy at home about your age.” “Have you?” exclaimed Catherine, eagerly; and as if that confession made them friends at once, she drew a chair close to her sister-in-law’s,--“My brother has told you all?” “Yes, ma’am.” “And I shall stay here--in the town somewhere--and see him sometimes?” Mrs. Roger Morton glanced at her husband--her husband glanced at the door--and Catherine’s quick eye turned from one to the other. “Mr. Morton will explain, ma’ am,” said the wife. “E-hem!--Catherine, my dear, I am afraid that is out of the question,” began Mr. Morton, who, when fairly put to it, could be business-like enough. “You see bygones are bygones, and it is no use raking them up. But many people in the town will recollect you.” “No one will see me--no one, but you and Sidney.” “It will be sure to creep out; won’t it, Mrs. Morton?” “Quite sure. Indeed, ma’am, it is impossible. Mr. Morton is so very respectable, and his neighbours pay so much attention to all he does; and then, if we have an election in the autumn, you see, ma’am, he has a great stake in the place, and is a public character.” “That’s neither here nor there,” said Mr. Morton. “But I say, Catherine, can your little boy go into the other room for a moment? Margaret, suppose you take him and make friends.”