"Queen, this is our old friend Mr. Chester, commonly known in the district as the King of Karldale; he plays Damon to Garth's Pythias, and is a sort of useful Family Friend to us all." Cathy's entrance as usual effected a sort of whirlwind; her swift movements and flowing draperies swept breezelike through the quiet room. Langley's low-toned "hush" was no check on her volubility. A look of amusement crossed Mr. Chester's face as he stood up and greeted the new-comers. "Irrepressible as usual, Cathy," was his only comment, as he reseated himself beside Langley, and took up his little daughter, a solemn-faced child of four, on his knee. Queenie regarded the pair critically. On the whole the survey contented her. The King of Karldale was a tall, powerfully-built man, with a florid handsome face, half hidden by a light curly beard, a countenance marked more by good nature than intellect, but bearing the stamp of plain honest common-sense. Queenie wondered if it were her fancy, that a vague uneasiness pervaded the man's gait at times. In spite of his cheerfulness and hearty laugh there were hints of past or present troubles in the worn lines round the kindly eyes; even in the midst of their pleasant talk a shadow now and then crossed his face, as though some unwelcome remembrance obtruded itself. Strange to say, there was little or no resemblance between the child and him. Nan was evidently a character. She sat perched on her father's knee in her little white pelisse and sun-bonnet, with a large woolly lamb in her arms, staring at Queenie with great dark eyes. Queenie noticed that now and then one small hand would furtively touch her father's coat-sleeve, and she would stroke the rough grey tweed with a look of infinite contentment, but showed no impatience or weariness during the long discussion that followed the girls' entrance. "Is my little mouse tired? is not Nan very tired?" said Mr. Chester, at last stooping to peep under the sun-bonnet. Queenie caught the look, and then she said to herself, "That little bright-eyed child is his idol." "Nan is not so very tired, father," pronounced the little creature with a slight lisp, and a stress on the word, very; "a little, only a very little." "Then we will go, my pet; say good-bye to Langley," and Nan obediently slid down from her father's knee, and trotted with sturdy compactness across the room.