"I _am_!--Pixie O'Shaughnessy. Going to be your niece. I made Stanor write to tell you.--" They seated themselves on the bench under the oak-tree, and turning, faced each other in a long, curious silence, during which each face assumed a puzzled expression. "But you are younger than I expected!" cried Pixie. "That is exactly what I was on the point of saying to _you_," returned Mr Glynn. "And yet we know exactly how old we both are--twenty and thirty-five!" Pixie continued volubly. "But you know how it is with young men--they have no patience to explain! You'd be amused if you could see the image I'd made of you in my own mind. I expect 'twas the same with yourself?" "It was," agreed Mr Glynn, and for a moment imagined that his disappointment was his own secret--only for a moment, however, then Pixie tilted her head at him with a sideways nod of comprehension. "Knowing, of course, that I was a sister of the beautiful Mrs Hilliard! No wonder you are disappointed!" The eyes smiled sympathy at him, and the wide lips parted in the friendliest of smiles. "You'll like me better when you know me!" "I--I am quite sure," stammered Mr Glynn, and then drew himself up suddenly, as if doubtful if agreement were altogether polite under the circumstances. Once more his lips twitched, and as their eyes met he and Pixie collapsed together into an irresistible laugh. He laughed well, a rare and charming accomplishment, and Pixie regarded him with benign approval. "Quite romantic, isn't it? The noble kinsman journeying in state to demand the hand of the charming maid, falls ill of the perils of the way, and encounters a simple cottage maid gathering flowers, who succours the stranger in distress. Their identity is then revealed. ... I _do_ love romances!" cried Pixie gushingly. "And it's much nicer having an interview out here than in a stuffy room ... Please, Mr Kinsman--begin!" He frowned, bit at his under lip, and moved restlessly on the seat, glancing once and again at the girl's bright, unclouded face. "I'm afraid," he began slowly, "that the matter is not altogether as simple as you suppose. Stanor is not in a position to marry without my consent. I think he has not sufficiently appreciated this fact. If he had consulted me in the first instance I should have endeavoured to prevent--" She turned her eyes upon him like a frightened child. There was no trace of anger, nor wounded pride--those he could have faced with ease-- but the simple shock of the young face smote on his heart. "I had not seen you, remember!" he cried quickly. "My decision had no personal element. I object at this stage to Stanor becoming engaged to--anybody. He has, no doubt, explained to you our relationship. His parents being dead, I made myself responsible for his training. He may have explained to you also my wish that for a few years he should be free to enjoy his youth without any sense of responsibility?" Pixie nodded gravely.