A cheerful drawing-room was that which looked out on the lawn of Summer Villa, lighted up as it was by the rich glow of a September sun, then just at its setting. The red light sparkled on the crystal globe in which gold-fish were gliding, and lent vividness to the green of the graceful ferns which ornamented both the windows. Emmie's piano was open, with a piece of music upon it. Emmie was an enthusiast in music. She had to displace her guitar from the sofa on which she had left it, to make room for her uncle to sit by her side. Emmie's basket with its fancy work lay on the table, and traces of her late employment in the shape of dropped beads and morsels of bright German wool strewed the soft carpet. Emmie rather felt than saw that her uncle's eye detected the little untidiness; the naval officer was himself "so dreadfully neat!" "Now for your news," said the captain, as he seated himself by his niece, while Vibert threw himself into an arm-chair. Vibert usually chose, as if by instinct, the most luxurious chair in the room. "What would you say if papa were to throw up office, leave Summer Villa for ever and for aye, and carry us all off to be buried alive?" cried Vibert. "In Labrador--or equatorial Africa?" inquired the captain. "Not quite so bad as either of those distant deserts," laughed Vibert. "Myst Hall is not a hundred miles from London, and Wiltshire is not quite beyond the pale of civilized life." "What has happened to make such a migration probable?" inquired Arrows. "You know that during our northern cruise I have had no letters, and that as regards home news, the last three months have been to me an absolute blank." "Our story is easily told," said Emmie. "You will, I dare say, remember that papa had an aunt, Mrs. Myers, who lived in Wiltshire." "I recollect the name, but little besides," replied Arrows. "None of us knew much of Aunt Myers," continued his niece. "Except a hamper of home-made preserves which came to us from Myst Court every Christmas, we had little to remind us of a relative who shut herself up from her family and friends for fifty long years." "But if we forgot the old dame, she did not forget us," interrupted Vibert. "Aunt Myers died eight or nine days ago and there came a letter from her lawyer announcing her death, and informing my father that he is the old lady's heir, executor, and the master of Myst Court, with all the fields, pleasure-grounds, cottages, copses, and I don't know what else thereto appertaining." The captain did not look as much impressed by the announcement as his young informant expected that he would be. "Papa, of course, went to his poor aunt's funeral," said Emmie, "and took Bruce with him to see what he thought of the place."