fair fluffy order of woman, with a touch of the Angora cat, and china-blue eyes. Her movements, too, were graceful, but feline. She gave one the notion of always playing with a worsted ball, as she flung herself upon the sofa, showing her tiny feet, or bounded across the room, or flung her white arm round her niece. One thing was un-catlike: she never scratched, or showed any indication of cruelty or spite; on the contrary, she seemed good nature and sprightliness personified. Her appearance in the neighbourhood of Whiteburn was always a great social event. She was regarded as a walking advertisement of the last fashions, and took infinite pains to please not only the dullest men, but the dowdiest women. The favourable impression she made on Anthony as a kindly little creature, with now and again flashes of unlooked-for brightness, was no doubt strengthened by the affection she manifested for Elizabeth. Having no children of her own, she declared that she felt like a mother to her niece.
Elizabeth was then nearly sixteen. During the three years which had intervened since her mother's death, she had returned to Whiteburn every six months; and these holidays were the most delightful weeks of Anthony's solitary life. The girl was growing rapidly, and promised to be very tall. It was difficult to say if she would be good-looking or not; at present she was angular and abrupt in movement. But her mind and her character had alike developed. She was already a delightful companion to her father, and gave him no trouble. They took long rides; they read Walter Scott together of an evening. Anthony had always loved literature and art, and his child inherited his tastes. He had a fine library,
