“And that was he?” A certain gleam--was it of satisfaction?--was for a moment in James Rowland’s eyes. But it was only for a moment, and the next they were subdued by the most genuine sympathy. “My poor dear!” he said. “It was a great shock to see him, you may suppose: but that is a small matter. He has two children, like ourselves.” The light sprang up in his eyes, and he thanked her with a sudden kiss upon her hand. “A boy and a girl, about the same ages. The girl I have seen--a strange specimen to me of a new generation I have no knowledge of; the boy, I fear, a very careless boy. Of all things in the world it has occurred to Mr. Saumarez, of all people in the world, to desire to confide these children to me.” “It shows that he has more sense than I could have thought.” “Their mother, of course, is dead, and he thinks he will die soon. I hear from others that how he lives at all is a wonder, though they think him likely to go on living; but he wishes me to take the guardianship of his children----” “And you have accepted?” “No, I have not accepted. That was too much to do, without your approval at least: even with it I doubt if I could take such a responsibility. It is not so bad as that. But I have pledged myself to ask them to Rosmore, for a long visit, to make their acquaintance thoroughly. They are young people who are, according to their slang, up to everything. I have been in great doubt since, whether it would be a good thing for--our two.” James Rowland’s eyes flashed again. After all there are some things which the experiences of a lifetime cannot do away with. As a point of fact, he knew well enough that the higher classes as he had seen them, chiefly in India, were fundamentally not a bit superior to the lower classes as he knew them by more intimate experience; and yet, risen from the ranks as he was, it gave him the strangest sensation of pleasure to hear that two young aristocrats, children of Society, “up to everything,” were about to become his guests. Even the flavour of something a little wrong which was conveyed in these words, rather heightened than diminished the pleasure. A good thing for--our two. Surely it would be a good thing: it would teach them manners far more effectually than if they were to observe their father’s ways to the end of the chapter. It would smarten up Archie, and let him see what a young man should look like in his new sphere. “My dear,” he said, “if that is all you are in doubt about, I think you may set your mind at rest. Two young people who are up to everything, will probably find it very dull at Rosmore; but so far as we are concerned, and the two--it can be nothing but an advantage. Ask as many people as you like: there is plenty of room in the house, and there will be plenty of carriages and horses, and plenty of things to see, though there is nothing to do, as Archie says.” “That is a very advanced thing for Archie to say: it is the fashionable complaint.”