Geoff came forward with his boyish step and voice in all the smiling confidence of youth. “I thought I should startle you. Is it a story that is being told, or are you plotting something? Fanny and Annie, leave her alone for a moment. It is my turn now.” “O Geoff! it is about a little girl and a boy--mamma will tell you too, if you ask her; and there’s nobody in. We thought at first you were papa, but he’s so busy. Come and sit here.” Geoff came up, and kissed Lady Stanton on her soft, still beautiful cheek. He was a son of the house, and privileged. He sat down on the stool the children had placed for him. “I am glad there’s nobody in,” he said. “Of course the girls will be back before I go; but I wanted to speak to you--about something.” “Shall the children go, Geoff?” “Fancy! do you want them to hate me? No, go on with the story. This is what I like. Isn’t it pleasant, Annie and Fanny, to have her all to ourselves? Do you mind me?” “Oh, not in the least, Geoff--not in the very least. You are like--what is he like, Annie?--a brother, not a big brother, like Charley: but something young, something nice, like what mamma was telling us of--a _little_ brother--grown up----” “Is this a sneer at my height?” he said; “but go on, don’t let me stop the story. I like stories--and most other pleasant things.” “It was no story,” said Lady Stanton. “I was telling them only of some children:--you are very good and forgiving, Geoff--but I fear you will be angry with me when you know. I was--out by myself--and notwithstanding all we have against them, I went to see Mary Musgrave. There! I must tell you at once, and get it over. I shall be sorry if it annoys you; but Mary and I,” she said, faltering, “were such friends once, and I have not seen her for years.” “Why should I be annoyed--why should I be angry? I am not an avenger. Poor Cousin Mary! you were out--by yourself!--was that your only reason for going?” “Indeed it is true enough. It is very seldom I go out without the girls: and they--feel strongly, you know, about that.” “What have they to do with it? Yes, I know: they are _plus royalistes que le roi_. But this is not the story.” “Yes, indeed it is, my dear boy. I was telling Annie and Fanny of two poor children. They belong to a man who is--banished from his own country. He did wrong--when he was young--oh so many, so many years ago!--and he is still wandering about the world without a home, and far from his friends. He was young then, and now--it is so long ago;--ah, Geoff, you must not be angry with me. The little children are with Mary. She did not tell me much, for her heart did not soften to me as mine did to her. But there they are; the mother dead who was at the bottom of it all; and nobody to care for them but Mary; all through something that happened before they were born.” Lady Stanton grew red as she spoke, her voice trembled, her whole aspect was full of emotion. The young man shook his head--