“Well, I never asked. Effie is a bit what nurses call contrary. She doesn’t always take kindly to what is settled for her; but she has a good heart at bottom. You will get on with her all right enough. Raby and Ray always say that her bark is worse than her bite.” “Who are Raby and Ray?” asked Sheila, who felt the subject of Effie to be a little discouraging. “Why, my two girls, to be sure. Rebecca and Rachel are their right names; but that’s what they get called at home. Lydia is married, and so is my eldest boy, Tom. He went off to Australia, and is doing well. But we have four at home still—the two girls and two boys, North and Cyril. North (he was called after his mother’s family name) is my right hand at the works. He’s a good steady fellow is North, and works hard. Cyril is the fine gentleman of the family. Nothing would serve him but a university education. He has been at Cambridge, and took his degree at Christmas. He can’t quite make up his mind now between the Church and the Bar. He’s having a spell at home to think about it. You’ll get on with Cyril, you two; he’s quite your style, you’ll see.” Mr. Tom Cossart spoke with evident pride of this son. Oscar and Sheila were both interested in hearing of their cousins and the home that awaited them in Isingford. Sheila saw that there was no chance of getting taken in at Uncle Tom’s with Oscar. Everything had plainly been settled with a view to her being companion and sister to Effie. She tried to think it would be pleasant to have a sister, and consoled herself with the promise that Oscar should come and see her regularly on Saturdays, and perhaps stay for the Sunday too. It was plain that the Cossarts meant to be kind to them, although they intended to arrange their lives for them in their own fashion. The days which followed were very busy and rather sorrowful. It was one long good-bye to familiar persons and possessions. The more closely Mr. Cholmondeley’s affairs were looked into, the less satisfactory they proved to be; and it was soon evident that almost everything would have to be sold before all the claims upon the estate could be cleared off. Mr. Tom Cossart strove to avoid making severe remarks upon the shiftless methods of the dead man; but Oscar felt his disapproval, and could not be blind himself to the selfishness of the long course of indolent procrastination which had marked his father’s rule. The son and daughter would have been left almost penniless had it not been for the small fortune of their mother; and that was a mere pittance to the son and daughter reared in every luxury. The girl and boy were allowed to select such things as they specially treasured from the plenishings of the house; but the bulk must go to the hammer.