He came from the darkness without into the warmth and brightness of the hall, and threw back his heavy Inverness cape, revealing a square, bearded face, a broad, well-knit figure, and a pair of shrewd and not unkindly brown eyes. “You are our Uncle Tom,” said Oscar, going forward to meet him. “We are very glad to see you. It is kind of you to come.” “Well, well, boy, duty is duty all the world over. I would have come a fortnight ago, but it was impossible. No disrespect meant to your father, you understand. So you are poor Maud’s children, are you? We always called her ‘poor Maud’ at home, though I scarcely know why. She was happy enough, I know, but she seemed like one dead to us somehow. You are a bit like what she was as a girl, I can see. Perhaps the sister favours her more,” and he looked across at Sheila, who now came forward with outstretched hand. “How do you do, Uncle Tom? I hope you are not very cold. It has been quite warm till yesterday, and then the cold came back. We are very glad to see you,” and Sheila held up her face for the kiss of the strange uncle. “Thank you, my dear. I hope we shall be good friends. Oh, I am too seasoned a traveller to mind cold or darkness or anything like that. No, you are not so like your mother as the boy. I am sorry for that. John and I rather set our hearts on having another little Maud back again. Are you called after your mother, my dear?” “No, my name is Sheila. I was called after my grandmother,” answered the girl, and her uncle dropped her hand, saying— “Ah, I am sorry for that! Somehow we had got into the way of calling you little Maud. I suppose we knew the right name; but none of us remembered it.” Sheila felt a little damped; she hardly knew why. Oscar took the guest to his room, and he shortly returned without having made any attempt to dress himself for dinner, and his apology for the omission was of the briefest, as though he considered the matter quite immaterial. He was not at all a bad-looking man, though there was something in his appearance different from what the girl had been used to in the life of her secluded home. In his travelling clothes he certainly looked a good deal rougher than those friends of her father who sometimes used to drop in for lunch or dinner; and his voice was louder than theirs; and there was a little indescribable accent about his speech, which suggested a lack of polish if not of education. But there was no fault to be found with his deportment, and he was rather interesting in his talk at dinner. He described to Oscar some of the new processes in the works, and in particular how they were utilising electricity for lighting their buildings and driving some of the engines. And Oscar’s rather keen and intelligent interest in this made a visible and favourable impression upon their new relation.