"Yes; Ann told me."
"His nurse let him fall when he was an infant, and the result is that he is a hunchback. He is greatly to be pitied. Will you come now?"
Felicia assented, and followed Mrs. Price out of the room and down a long corridor, at the end of which hung a heavy crimson cloth curtain before a closed door. As the two approached the door, it opened, and Price came out, pushing aside the curtain which he held back to allow Felicia to pass.
"Good morning, miss," said the old man with his kindly smile.
"Good morning," Felicia responded.
"Mr. Guy is ready to see you," he proceeded, and he forthwith ushered her into the room, announcing, "Miss Felicia, if you please, Mr. Guy."
For a minute Felicia was too nervous and confused to go forward. She stood just within the threshold of the room, her eyes fixed on the thick velvet pile carpet beneath her feet; then she glanced up quickly, and met the intent gaze of her uncle. He lay on a sofa close to the open window, and the sunshine fell fully upon his face—a very handsome face it was, with dark grey eyes and regular features, but it wore the most unhappy and discontented expression possible.
"Come here," he said imperatively.
She obeyed, embarrassed by the keen scrutiny he was subjecting her to. He took her hand in his, and for a few minutes uncle and niece regarded each other in dead silence.
"My father gave me a faithful description of you," he remarked at length; "you are a pale little blossom—an airy, fairy thing. Do you know that I am your uncle? Yes. You are to call me 'Uncle Guy,' you understand. I have two other nieces—Doris and Molly Pring—whose acquaintance you will make by-and-by. But, now, tell me about yourself."