a week later excitement reigned in dr. knight's usually quiet household. the children had a holiday in honour of the stranger expected that day—their cousin stella, who for the future was to make her home with them.

singularly enough, dr. knight had been left stella's guardian by the woman who in the days of her prosperity and health had always regarded him with dislike. when upon her sick-bed she had been told she must face death, she had thought over the list of her so-called friends, and because they had been of the world worldly, she had hesitated to entrust one of them with her little daughter, and the fortune that would be hers. then her thoughts had reverted to her dead husband's brother. he had never approved of her; nevertheless she had trusted him. with the world slipping away from her she had instinctively turned to the only man of her acquaintance with whom she knew the world was of little account; and to him she had confided her child's future, conscious that she was acting as her dead husband would have desired. and so it was that the one who had stood by stella's father in death, had ministered to her mother also when her turn had come to enter the valley of shadows.

it had been arranged when the funeral was over, and business matters satisfactorily settled, that stella should return home with her uncle. this plan pleased stella greatly, for she had taken a great liking to dr. knight, and was curious and eager to know the aunt and cousins she had never seen.

it must be confessed that stella's grief for her mother's death was not very great; it could hardly have been otherwise, for the dead woman had paid little attention, lavished little tenderness on her daughter. stella had always been gaily dressed, and encouraged to think a great deal of the luxuries money can buy. she had been brought up with the one idea that she must look pretty, and be very quiet in her mother's presence, the consequence being that she had a rather reserved manner, and a little air of artificiality about her.

as the time drew near for the arrival of the travellers, the doctor's children stationed themselves inside the window of their mother's room, which commanded a view of the road, and talked expectantly of their cousin.

"she is ten years old," dora remarked. "i am only eight. i expect she will be ever so tall."

"she's sure to bully you," george assured his sister; "she'll look down on you as a kid, see if she doesn't!"

"my dear george," his mother interposed, "what nonsense you talk! i have no doubt stella will be a shy, timid little girl; and i shall expect you all to be very considerate and kind to her, and treat her gently. i am afraid your boisterous ways may alarm her. and remember, she has just lost her mother. i fear she will be very sad and sorrowful!"

the four young faces at the window looked sympathetic, and the merry voices were hushed for a while.

"i shall be glad when father is home again," david said at length. "it is so dull when he's away. mr. gray will be glad too; he has not had a minute to call his own this last week."

"oh, stella's room does look pretty!" dora broke in. "i helped miss clarke arrange it this morning, and we put a bunch of chrysanthemums on the little table in front of the window, and—"

"dora kept on going in and altering first one thing and then another," george interposed; "i believe she'd be there now if miss clarke had not forbidden her to touch anything again."

"dora is naturally anxious her cousin's first impressions should be pleasant ones," mrs. knight said with a smile; "but listen, children, surely i hear the wheels of the dogcart!"

"yes! yes! they're coming! they're coming!"

the children flew downstairs, whilst the mother waited patiently, a little flush of excitement on her usually pale face, a look of glad expectancy in her eyes. presently her husband entered the room, and in a minute his arms were around her, and his tender voice asking how she was.

"oh, john, what a trying time you have had, dear! we have all missed you so much! it has seemed a year since you went away! where is stella? i am anxious to see the little town mouse."

"i have delivered her over to the tender mercies of miss clarke and the children. they will see to her, and after she has had some tea she shall come upstairs and make your acquaintance."

"yes, i daresay after the long journey she will want her tea at once. but are you sure, john, that she will not be shy or nervous with strangers?"

"my dear mary, when you have seen the child you will understand that it is not in her nature to be shy or nervous in the way you mean. nothing discomposes her. our young ones are much more likely to be shy with her than she with them."

"really? how strange!"

"i should say she is rather a strange child, from what i learnt from the nurse who attended her mother. it seems my sister-in-law brought her up in what we should think an odd manner. for instance, stella thinks a deal of fine clothes, and jewellery, and the appearances of things generally. i assure you, the first time i saw her i felt she was looking me through and through!"

"surely she must be a disagreeable child, john!"

"no, on the contrary, she is charming. she is very pretty, with dark bright eyes, and gentle courteous manners. she did not feel her mother's death—cried hardly at all."

"oh, john!"

"it is not to be wondered at. i believe she thought of her mother as a sort of superior being, very wealthy, very beautiful, queening it over others, and exacting implicit obedience. when she came in to take her last look at her mother it was as though she looked on a strange face."

"oh, how dreadful! how sad! and your poor sister-in-law herself?"

"i will tell you about her another time, dear mary. she had a splendid woman for a nurse, a true christian, who was, i have no doubt, a great help to her. and i do not think she faced death alone, for the last articulate words she uttered were, 'create in me a clean heart, o god, and renew a right spirit within me!'"

there was a silence, broken only by the entrance of anna with a tray.

"anna is going to allow me to have tea up here with you to-night, mary, as a treat," the doctor said, smiling. "how is the little stranger getting on downstairs, anna?"

"very well, i fancy, sir."

"ah! i thought she would. is she not a pretty child, anna?"

"handsome is as handsome does, sir. if miss stella is as good as she is pretty, why then she'll be very good indeed." and having given her opinion with the freedom of an old and valued servant, anna left the doctor and his wife to themselves again.

meanwhile downstairs matters were progressing happily enough. stella sat at miss clarke's right hand sipping her tea, but eating little. she was too excited to have much appetite; and was fully occupied in watching her cousins, whom she considered good-looking but dowdily dressed children. her observant eyes took in everything, from the shabbiness of the worn brussels carpet to the texture of the table-cloth, which was far coarser than she had been accustomed to. she answered politely when addressed, and was most certainly not shy; but it was evident that she meant to make friends with her cousins at her own discretion.

"if you have finished tea, my dear," miss clarke said at length, "i think your aunt would like to see you. dora, take your cousin upstairs to your mother."

dora came forward obediently, and taking her cousin's hand the two children left the room together. on the landing upstairs stella paused and drew back, for the first time since her arrival showing signs of nervousness.

"am i tidy?" she asked anxiously. "do i look nice?"

"oh, yes!" in accents of surprise.

"will she be cross?"

"cross! mother cross! oh, no! why do you ask?" in amazement.

"i thought she might be. she is ill, is she not? when mother was ill, or tired, i hated to go near her!"

"come in, stella!" called dr. knight's voice. "what are you two whispering about outside the door? you can't have any secrets to tell already, i'm sure," laughing. "bring your cousin in, dora! don't you know your mother is all expectation, longing to see her?"

turning her eyes eagerly towards the door, mrs. knight saw a slight little figure clad in a black frock. stella advanced towards her aunt with outstretched hand, the faint artificial smile on her lips with which she had been in the habit of greeting her mother's visitors, her eyes full of doubts.

"so this is stella," mrs. knight said. "this is my new little daughter!" her voice was so tender and kind that it sent the tears to stella's eyes. "sit down here by my side, little one, and tell me how my big romping children have been behaving."

"oh," said stella, "they have been very polite."

the doctor laughed, and he and dora went downstairs to join the others, leaving stella alone with her aunt. mrs. knight continued to talk about her children, hoping stella would make friends with them, and have a happy home in their midst. the little girl listened quietly and attentively. she watched her aunt with her large, starlike eyes, and presently a pleased smile flickered around her lips. when the time came for her to say good-night, and go to bed, she was genuinely sorry.

"good-night," she said softly, "good-night. and thank you for being so kind to me."

it was with a feeling of pleasurable excitement that stella lay down to rest that night, and she fell asleep to dream she was living the events of the day over again, and in her dreams she was quite content.

such was the advent of the little town mouse, as her aunt had named her, among her country cousins.