"DONALD, you haven't told me yet what you think of Josephine. Do you like her?"

 

May was the speaker. It was the afternoon of Josephine's first Sunday at the Glen, a wet afternoon with a chill wind blowing; and the twins, who had the drawing-room to themselves, were seated one on either side of the fire. Donald had been reading, but he flung aside his book as his sister spoke¹, and answered—

 

"Don't know—haven't made up my mind."

 

"She isn't a bit like what Aunt Ann and Uncle John expected. They both imagined she'd be very sad and unhappy, thinking of her father, you know, and being all amongst strangers; but she isn't, is she? This morning I said to her, I wondered where her father was and what he was doing, and she said, 'Yes, I wonder!' but she didn't seem to be troubling about him. And do you know, she told me when we got back from church that she'd had a most enjoyable morning!"

 

Miss Basset had driven to church, as she usually did, but May and Josephine had walked with Mr. Basset. Donald had not been to church at all since his accident; he might have accompanied Miss Basset had he cared to do so.

 

"I don't know, I'm sure, why it should have been so enjoyable," May continued, "for we had a heavy shower on our way to church, and, as you know, the rain came on in torrents² on our way home, so that we were simply drenched³. By the by, there were a lot of soldiers in church, and we had a sermon all about fighting."

 

"What about it?" asked Donald, with sudden interest. "What was the text?"

 

"I can't tell you; I didn't listen. You had better ask Josephine. She was very attentive⁴; I believe she heard every word."

 

"Where is she now?"

 

"In her bedroom. I heard voices as I passed the door—hers and Jane's. Oh, here she is! Take this chair by the fire, Josephine."

 

Josephine obeyed. There was a faint flush on her pale cheeks, and her eyes were very bright.

 

"I've been talking to Jane," she said; "she's been telling me about her aunt who lives in that cottage near the town—"

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