Elsie turned and left the room. The Fifth Commandment enjoins that under such circumstances as these the least said the soonest mended. When a man learns that his sister, his favourite sister, from whom he has been parted for eight years, the only member of his family who stood up for him when he was falsely accused of a disgraceful thing, is about to take breakfast with him, he naturally puts as much poetry into that usually simple meal as circumstances allow. Mostly Athelstan took a cup of coffee and a London egg. This morning he had flowers, raspberries lying in a bed of leaves, a few late strawberries, various kinds of confitures in dainty dishes, toast and cake, with fish and cutlets--quite a little feast. And he had had the room cleared of the bundles of newspapers; the pipes and cigar-cases and all the circumstances of tobacco were hidden away--all but the smell, which lingered. One thinks a good deal about a sister's visit, under such conditions. At a quarter past nine Elsie arrived. Athelstan hastened to open the door, and to receive her with open arms and kisses strange and sweet. Then, while the people of the house took in her luggage, he led his sister into the room, which was the front room on the ground-floor. 'Elsie!' he said, taking both her hands in his, 'eight years since we parted--and you are a tall young lady whom I left a little girl. To hold your hand--to kiss you, seems strange after so long.' He kissed her again on the forehead. She looked up at the tall handsome man with a kind of terror. It was almost like casting herself upon the care of a strange man. 'I remember your voice, Athelstan, but not your face. You have changed more than I, even.' 'And I remember your voice, Elsie--always a soft and winning voice, wasn't it?--to suit soft and winning ways. There never was any child more winning and affectionate than you--never.' 'Oh! you are grown very handsome, Athelstan. See what a splendid beard, and the brown velvet jacket, and white waistcoat--and the crimson tie. You look like an artist. I wish all men wore colours, as they used to do. I only heard yesterday that you were in London. Hilda told me.' 'Was that the reason why you cannot stay at home?' 'Part of the reason. But you shall have breakfast first. You can take me in without any trouble?' 'My dear child, I am more than delighted to have you here. There is a room at the back where you will be quiet: we have only this one room for sitting-room, and I think we shall find it best to go out every day to dinner. That will not hurt us, and George will come every evening.--Now, Elsie, you sit here, and I will---- No-- I quite forgot. You will pour out the tea. Yes--I see. I thought I was going to wait upon you altogether.--There--now you will make a good breakfast, and--and---- Don't cry, dear child.'