Aunt Phœbe gave her reminiscences of the sailing of the two cousins for Australia at the age of two years each, with a graphic description of the scene at the docks.
"Your papa was in the height of his success then," she said to Mrs. Early, "and his brother was doing well. The strangest thing was that they both married when nearly fifty, and both were left widowers within three years with a baby-girl each. I offered to take care of the two of you, but as your Aunt Mary was going a voyage to Australia, and the change was thought good for you, away you both went with her. Of course we never dreamt of her staying there and you two staying with her."
"If papa was doing well when I went away, what became of his fortune?" asked Miss Fairbrother.
"He married again," said Aunt Phœbe, "and lost the greater part of it through the extravagance of his wife. I'm glad he managed to keep a house out of it for you; it was little enough to do."
"Poor papa!"
"Yes, I suppose he deserves to be pitied," said Aunt Phœbe. "But John never had the good sense of Joseph. They were both J. Fairbrother's, but the one J. was very different from the other in business ability. I always thought it absurd that John should imitate Joseph in calling his baby-girl by the same name. You were born within a week of each other, and both named Ellen."
"What a funny thing," said Mrs. Early, laughing, "that we never got mixed up!"
"Yes, indeed," said Aunt Phœbe. "I remember your poor father telling your Aunt Mary, with a smile, to be sure to keep you separate."
"'They're separate enough!' said John, laughing. 'One's got a strawberry mark, Mary, and remember the strawberry mark's mine.' Then your father——"
"Aunt," said Miss Fairbrother, in a queer voice, "did you say the strawberry mark was on John's baby or on——"