“No one even thought of looking,” said Agnes, suddenly glancing up at the old cabinet with all its brass rings--while Marian, restored to all her gay spirits, promptly took her brother to task for his contempt of old women. “You ought to see Miss Anastasia--she is a great deal bigger than you,” cried Marian, pulling a shaggy lock of Charlie’s black hair. “Stuff!--who’s Miss Anastasia?” was the reply. “And that reminds me,” said Mrs Atheling, “that we ought to have let her know. Do you remember what she said, Agnes?--she was quite sure my lord was thinking of something--and we were to let her know.” “What about, mother?--and who’s Miss Anastasia?” asked Charlie once more: he had to repeat his question several times before any answer came. “Who is Miss Anastasia? My dear, I forgot you were a stranger. She is--well, really I cannot pretend to describe Miss Rivers,” said Mrs Atheling, with a little nervousness. “I have always had a great respect for her, and so has your father. She is a very remarkable person, Charlie. I never have known any one like her all my life.” “But _who_ is she, mother? Is she any good?” repeated the impatient youth. Mrs Atheling looked at her son with a certain horror. “She is one of the most remarkable persons in the county,” said Mrs Atheling, with all the local spirit of a Banburyshire woman, born and bred--“she is a great scholar, and a lady of fortune, and the only child of the old lord. How strange the ways of Providence are, children!--what a difference it might have made in everything had Miss Anastasia been born a man instead of a woman.” “Indeed,” confessed Mamma, breaking off in an under-tone, “I do really believe it would have been more suitable, even for herself.” “I suppose we’re to come at it at last,” said Charlie despairingly: “she’s a daughter of the tother lord--now, I want to know what she’s got to do with us.” “My dear,” said Mrs Atheling eagerly, and with evident pleasure, “I wrote to your father, I am sure, all about it. She has called upon us twice in the most friendly way, and has quite taken a liking for the girls.” “And she was old Aunt Bridget’s pupil, and her great friend; and it was on account of her that the old lord gave Aunt Bridget this house,” added Agnes, finding out, though not very cleverly, what Charlie’s questions meant. “And she hates Lord Winterbourne,” said Marian in an expressive appendix, with a distinct emphasis of sympathy and approval on the words. “Now I call that satisfaction,” said Charlie,--“that’s something like the thing. So I suppose she must have had to do with the whole business, and knows all about it--eh? Why didn’t you tell me so at once?--why, she’s the first person to see, of course. I had better seek her out to-morrow morning--first thing.”