Wradisley; but Bertram bore the comparison better than most. Ralph Wradisley had something of the aspect of a gamekeeper beside both of them, though I think the honest fellow would have been the first to whom a child or injured person would have turned. The ladies made involuntary mental comments upon them as the three stood together. “Oh, if Raaf were only a little less rough!” his mother breathed in her heart. Lucy, I think, was most critical of Bertram, finding in him, on the whole, something which neither of her brothers possessed, though he must have been forty at the very least, and therefore capable of exciting but little interest in a girl’s heart. “I have been showing your friend my treasures,” said Mr. Wradisley, with a slight turn of his head toward his brother, “and I am delighted to find we have a great many tastes in common. There is a charm in sympathy, especially when it is so rare, on these subjects.” “You could not expect Raaf to know about your casts and things, Reginald,” said Mrs. Wradisley, precipitately. “He has been living among such very different scenes.” “Raaf!” said Mr. Wradisley, slightly elevating his eyebrows. “My dear mother, could you imagine I was referring in any way to Raaf?” “Never mind, Reg, I don’t take it amiss,” said the big sportsman, with a laugh out of his beard. There was, however, a faint color on his browned cheeks. It is well that a woman’s perceptions should be quick, no doubt, but if Mrs. Wradisley had not been jealous for her younger son this very small household jar need not have occurred. Mr. Wradisley put it right with his natural blandness. “We all have our pet subjects,” he said; “you too, mother, as much as the worst of us. Is the time of tea over, or may I have some?” “Mr. Wradisley’s casts are magnificent,” cried the stranger. “I should have known nothing about them but for a wild year or two I spent in Greece and the islands. A traveler gets a sniff of everything. Don’t you recollect, Wradisley, the Arabs and their images at--” The name was not to be spelt by mere British faculties, and I refrain. “Funny lot of notions,” said Raaf, “I remember; pretty little thing or two, however, I should like to have brought for Lucy--just the things a girl would like--but Bertram there snapped them all up before I had a chance--confounded knowing fellow, always got before me. You come down on him, Lucy; it’s his fault if I have so few pretty things for you.” “I am very well contented, Raaf,” said Lucy, prettily. As a matter of fact the curiosities Ralph had brought home had been chiefly hideous ivory carvings of truly African type, which Lucy, shuddering, had put away in a drawer, thanking him effusively, but with averted eyes. “There were two or three very pretty little Tanagra figurine among the notions,” said Bertram. “I am sorry Miss Wradisley had not her share of them--they’re buried in my collections in some warehouse or other, and probably will never see the light.”