E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Mary Meehan, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) UNCLE MAX by ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY Author of 'Nellie's Memories,' 'Wee Wifie,' 'Robert Ord's Atonement,' etc. 1894 CONTENTS I. Out of the Mist II. Behind the Bars III. Cinderella IV. Uncle Max Breaks The Ice V. 'When The Cat Is Away' VI. The White Cottage VII. Giles Hamilton, Esq VIII. New Brooms Sweep Clean IX. The Flag of Truce X. A Difficult Patient XI. One of God's Heroines XII. A Missed Vocation XIII. Lady Betty XIV. Lady Betty Leaves Her Muff XV. Up At Gladwyn XVI. Gladys XVII. 'Why Not Trust Me, Max?' XVIII. Miss Hamilton's Little Scholar XIX. The Picture In Gladys's Room XX. Eric XXI. 'I Ran Away, Then!' XXII. 'They Have Blackened His Memory Falsely' XXIII. The Mystery at Gladwyn XXIV. 'Weeping may endure for a Night' XXV. 'There is no one like Donald' XXVI. I hear about Captain Hamilton XXVII. Max opens his Heart XXVIII. Crossing the River XXIX. Miss Darrell has a Headache XXX. With Timbrels and Dances XXXI. Wedding-Chimes XXXII. A Fiery Ordeal XXXIII. Jack Poynter XXXIV. I communicate with Joe Muggins XXXV. Nightingales and Roses XXXVI. Breakers Ahead XXXVII. 'I claim that Promise, Ursula' XXXVIII. In the Turret-Room XXXIX. Whitefoot is saddled XL. The Talk in the Gloaming XLI. 'At five o'clock in the Morning' XLII. Down the Pemberley Road XLIII. 'Conspiracy Corner' XLIV. Leah's Confession XLV. 'This Home is yours no longer' XLVI. Nap barks in the Stable-yard XLVII. At last, Ursula, at last!' XLVIII. 'What o' the Way to the End?' CHAPTER I OUT OF THE MIST It appears to me, looking back over a past experience, that certain days in one's life stand out prominently as landmarks, when we arrive at some finger-post pointing out the road that we should follow. We come out of some deep, rutty lane, where the hedgerows obscure the prospect, and where the footsteps of some unknown passenger have left tracks in the moist red clay. The confused tracery of green leaves overhead seems to weave fanciful patterns against the dim blue of the sky; the very air is low-pitched and oppressive. All at once we find ourselves in an open space; the free winds of heaven are blowing over us; there are four roads meeting; the finger-post points silently, 'This way to such a place'; we can take our choice, counting the mile-stones rather wearily as we pass them. The road may be a little tedious, the stones may hurt our feet; but if it be the right road it will bring us to our destination.