'Ancestors do you mean?' said Silvia. 'I want to know about them too; for Uncle Algernon once told me that there were some very curious stories about the pictures in this house, especially those on the staircase.'

'Did he?' said Robin. 'Then that's what papa meant when I asked who that boy was.' (Robin pointed, as he spoke, to a picture that hung on the wall opposite.) 'He said I must ask Uncle Algernon, for he was a namesake of his, and knew all about him. I always call him "Bluecoat," and I want to know about him more than any of them.'

Silvia surveyed the picture in question with a great deal of interest. It represented a boy of about Robin's age, with dark, bright eyes, handsome features and chestnut curls, which hung down as low as the rich lace scarf which was tied round his neck. He wore lace ruffles at his wrists, and the blue velvet coat which had earned him Robin's nickname was adorned with the most elaborate embroidery.

'I wonder when he lived,' said Silvia thoughtfully. 'But, Robin, I should like to know still better about that little girl next him. Do you think she is his sister?'

'They are not a bit alike,' pronounced her brother. 'Oh Silvia, she's got regular green sleeves, don't you see, like that old woman in Granny's Wonderful Chair?'

'Yes; I found that out long ago. I always call her "Lady Greensleeves,"' replied Silvia.

'She is very pretty, I think, in spite of that funny dress. But she looks very proud and dignified.'

'I suppose she was some grand lady. How she stares at one!' added Silvia, hastily turning her eyes away, but only to meet the gaze of other generations of Dalrymples, who frowned or smiled on her in all directions. 'It is very odd that they should look at one so hard, isn't it?' she said in a half-whisper to Robin. 'I always notice it, especially when I am coming up to bed.'

'Yes,' replied her brother, 'It was Bluecoat staring at me so, that first made me notice him; and now I don't mind it a bit, but always nod to him and say good-night when I come up-stairs. I wish I knew all about him. Now, if we had but the goloshes of fortune, Silvia, what fun it would be! We would make all the pictures tell us their stories.'

'How would it be if I was to ask them?' said a voice just above the children.