"In heaven, I trust," her father replied in low and not unmoved tones.

"There, my dears, do what you can to make your cousins comfortable and happy, I must go and speak to your mamma." So saying he left the room.

Mrs. Eldon, lying on the sofa in her dressing room, looked up in mild surprise as her husband entered.

"Why, Albert," she said, closing her book with a yawn, "what fortunate circ.u.mstance brings you home at this unusual hour?" Then as he drew nearer: "What is it, my dear? Why, actually, there are tears in your eyes. Oh," half starting up, "is there anything wrong with Albert or----"

"No," he said huskily, "but bad news from England reached us this morning. My brother Henry is no more; he and his wife died within a few minutes of each other. She had heart disease, we are told, was strongly attached to him, worn out with long and arduous nursing, and the shock of his decease was more than her enfeebled frame could bear."

"How very sad! I am really sorry for you, my dear. And they left some children, did they not?"

"Yes, four little ones--a boy and three girls, the eldest only about eight years of age. They have grandparents, probably very well to do, somewhere in the West Indies, but no one knows their name or address. So the little orphans have been sent to us. The steamship came in this morning, only a few hours after the letter was received telling us all this, and which was forwarded by a vessel bound to a Canadian port but delayed somewhat in her voyage, so that, starting some days before the other, she reached port only a day or two ahead of her."

"And you are going down to the vessel to get the children?"

"No; we went down--George and I--at once on learning that she was in, found the little folks there all right, and I have just brought them home with me."

"But surely we are not to be expected to keep the whole four? Surely George and his wife will take two, as they have the same right as we to be at the expense and trouble."

"I think so, eventually; but just at present, while the poor little things feel themselves strangers in a strange place, it would be hard for them to be separated; so I have engaged to keep the whole for a few days," he replied; then seeing that she looked ill-pleased with the arrangement:

"But, I do not intend they shall be any trouble to you, my dear," he added hastily. "The woman who had charge of them on the voyage will remain with them for a few days, and except when they are taken out for air and exercise, they can be kept in the nursery and adjoining rooms."

"Well," she sighed, returning to her book, "I suppose I may as well resign myself to the inevitable."

"Do you think it more than their nearest relatives should do for our children, were they so sorely bereaved?" he asked.

"No, I suppose not; but I have given my consent and what more would you ask?"

"Nothing more, Augusta, except that you will encourage our children to be kind and considerate toward their orphan cousins."

"Really I know of no one but their father who would expect them to be anything else," she returned in a not particularly pleasant tone.

"I do not expect it," he said; "yet think it might be as well to call their attention to the fact that the little orphans are ent.i.tled to their kindly sympathy. But I am needed at my place of business and must return at once. Good-by till dinner time, my dear;" and with the last word he left the room.

"Dear me! as if we hadn't children enough of our own!" exclaimed Mrs.

Eldon in a petulant tone, and impatiently tossing aside her book as the sound of her husband's footsteps died away in the distance. "Albert needn't talk as if they were to be no trouble to me. Who else is to do the shopping for their clothes, decide how they are to be made and find somebody to do the work? for of course if they don't look all right, people will talk and say we don't treat them as well as we do our own."

At that moment the patter of little feet was heard in the hall without, the door opened and her youngest two came rushing in.

"Oh, mamma," they exclaimed half breathlessly, "papa has brought us some cousins, nice little things, and we like 'em and want you to see them too. Mayn't we bring 'em in here?"

"Oh, yes, if you will only be quiet. Will you never learn not to be so noisy?"

"Maybe some day when we're growed up like you and papa," said Nora.

"Come, Gus, let's go and bring 'em," and away they ran, to return in a few moments leading Blanche and Harry and followed by the nurse carrying Nannette; Ethel keeping close at her side.

They were pretty, winsome looking children, and Mrs. Eldon was roused to something like interest. She sat up and took Nannette on her lap for a few minutes, spoke kindly to the others, and asked some questions in regard to their former homes and the voyage across the ocean.

Most of the replies came from Ethel, and her timid, retiring, yet ladylike manner found favor with her interrogator.

"You are a nice little girl," she said at length, smoothing her hair caressingly and giving her a kiss, "and so are your sisters. I am pleased with Harry, also, for he seems a manly little fellow, and I hope you and my little folks will get along happily together while you stay.

There, run back to the nursery now, all of you, for it is time for me to dress."

They all started to obey, but as they reached the door, "Oh, mamma,"

cried Charles Augustus, turning toward her again, "mayn't we go down to the yard? 'cause I want to show cousins the pups and rabbits."

"Yes, yes! anything if you will go and leave me in peace," she replied with some impatience.

"Come along then, Ethel and the rest of you," cried Charlie, leading the way.

CHAPTER IV.

The Eldon brothers lived in adjoining houses, large, handsome, and with more extensive grounds than are usually connected with a city residence; a low hedge separated those of the one from the other, and a gate in that gave to each household free access to both, which, by the way, was a convenience more esteemed by the brothers and their children than by the wives and mothers, who had few interests in common--Mrs. George Eldon occupying herself almost exclusively with home cares and economies and outside charities, while her sister-in-law was a b.u.t.terfly of fashion, considering herself a martyr to social duties and leaving the care of house, children, and her husband's comfort to those who could be hired to attend to them. As a natural consequence each secretly despised and avoided the other.

When the brothers parted at the wharf that day, the elder one went immediately to his place of business, where he found his wife waiting to speak with him in his private counting room.

"Ah," she said as he entered, "I am glad you have come at last; for I have been waiting here for at least a full hour. Where on earth have you been?"

"Out seeing to some very important business; a matter demanding immediate attention," he replied somewhat coldly.

"Something which your wife is not to know about, I presume?"

"I have not said so, nor have I the least intention to keep it secret from you. Let me read you this"--unfolding a letter as he spoke.

It was the one he had just received from England, telling of the decease of Captain and Mrs. Eldon, and the sending of their children to America.

She listened in almost breathless surprise.

"You have hardly mentioned that brother for years, and I had almost forgotten his existence," she remarked as he refolded the letter and laid it aside.

"Too true," he responded with a heavy sigh, "and my heart reproaches me for my neglect. Poor Harry! if he had left that climate sooner he might perhaps have lived to be an old man; lived to support and bring up his children himself; but now all that I can do is to help in that work."

"As if you hadn't family enough of your own!" she exclaimed indignantly.

"I have two, my brother Albert six; and I have quite as large an income as he."

"And a wife that doesn't spend the half that his does," she added drawing herself up with dignity.

"Quite true, and, therefore, I should take certainly not less than half the burden of providing for Harry's helpless little ones."

"No doubt you will do your full share," she said coldly, "and your wife will be expected to do more than hers in the way of seeing that the children are trained and taught, fed and clothed; things that such a b.u.t.terfly of fashion as Mrs. Albert does not trouble her head about for her own offspring, and certainly would not for others."

"Well, my dear, fortunately for us we will not be called upon to give an account for her sins of omission or commission; but I have heard you say, certainly more than once or twice, that you consider it a duty to care for the poor with purse, time, and effort; and surely relationship to your husband should not be looked upon as a bar to such ministrations on the part of his wife. My brother, I am happy to say, is more than willing to do his full share, and I certainly do not want him to do more."

He was magnanimous enough not to mention her orphan niece whom he was supporting and educating, and she had the grace to feel somewhat ashamed of her display of unwillingness to do a little for his fatherless and motherless nephew and nieces. But she did not condescend to say so much in words.