'Well,' said Silvia meditatively, 'I am not quite sure whether Lady Greensleeves' story wasn't the nicest; only I wanted to hear some more about Henrietta.' But oh! Robin, don't you want to know about Frances and Algernon when they were grown up, and how they met again, and whether they liked one another?'

'I'll tell you what, Silvia. We'll go back to-morrow, and ask Uncle Algernon whether he knows any more of their stories. I daresay he does, though he didn't say so.'

And accordingly, the next afternoon, Uncle Algernon once more heard a tap at the door of his dressing-room; and this time, when Silvia and Robin put their heads in, he was discovered standing before two portraits, which had been missing all that day from the staircase wall. One of these, labelled 'Frances Countess of Desmond, ætat 24,' was a stately dame, in the dress worn by the ladies of William and Mary's time—stiff and long-waisted, cut low in the neck, and with sleeves reaching to the elbow. But, despite the difference in dress and age, the wavy dark hair, the brilliant complexion, and the arch grey eyes could not be mistaken. Fourteen years had made very little change in Lady Greensleeves. The same, however, could not be said for poor Blue-coat. The bright sturdy boy that Kneller had painted bore scarcely any resemblance to the grave Lord Desmond of twenty-eight. His once round, rosy face was thin and brown, and his curly auburn locks were exchanged for a black periwig.

'Can you really be Blue-coat?' Robin could not help saying, after staring for some while at him in silence.

'Blue-coat grown up,' Uncle Algernon answered, smiling; 'and a good deal changed, but not for the better, eh, Robin? Well! so you want to hear his history now, I suppose?'

'Oh yes, uncle, please; and Lady Greensleeves grown-up story too. You know you have heard them,' pleaded Silvia, trying to pull him into the big leather chair. 'I am quite sure they told them both to you last night.'

'Yes,' added Robin. 'And you are going away to-morrow; and then you will be off to Egypt, and nobody knows when you will come back. So if you don't tell them, we shall never hear them at all.'

'Unless you leave the goloshes of Fortune behind you,' suggested Silvia mischievously.

'Ah! hem! You see, I'm afraid they would fit no one but myself,' Uncle Algernon answered, with a twinkle in his grey eyes. 'But, as you say, Robin, this is my last day here, and these stories are not quite so long as the others, so we will see what can be done.'

And after Robin and Silvia had waited for a moment in breathless silence, Uncle Algernon cleared his throat, and began as follows:—