II.

UNCLE HUGH’S STORY.

Yes, tea alone in the nursery, that
strange room that looked as if it
hadn’t been a nursery for a great
many years, and was as queer and
awkward as an old woman trying
to look young again. No clatter
of spoons to make baby laugh, no
chatter of childish voices, only little
me, all alone with Jane—little me,
so puzzled and strange and_be-
wildered in the new place! Per-