"And she's the lady who said she knew you as a little boy," said Ruffie; "how very funny that she did not know she must be my aunt! She didn't speak nice of you, Dad; she said you only loved one person, and that was yourself, and I told her you loved me!"
"You were right to stand up for your old Dad," said Justin. "Perhaps I had better tell you straight out that, long ago, your aunt and I disagreed about something, and we thought it was best for us to live away from each other. But we're going to be friends again, and I hope you'll all be very pally and nice to her when you see her."
"Oh, Steppie will be nice to her," said Georgie. "We'll see what she's like first, before we get pally with her."
So on the following Tuesday, Miss Holme came over to lunch, and her brother greeted her in a very quiet, matter-of-fact way.
"Glad to see you, Grace. I want you to know my wife."
"We do know each other a little, don't we?" said Anstice, with her bright smile. "I have so often wondered how you fared after that motor misadventure of yours."
Miss Holme was graciousness itself to Anstice, and if she were rather stiff at first towards her brother, it soon wore off. By the time that lunch was over, she seemed thoroughly at home; and when the children appeared, she devoted herself to them.
Josie and Georgie condescended to approve of her, and frankly told her so.
"We only knew a few days ago," said Josie, "that you were an aunt of ours. Ruffie seemed to like you when he met you in the Fells, but we weren't there. Some aunts in books are horrid."
"But I'm not in a book, thank goodness," laughed her aunt.