To this Mrs. Merton was brought to agree, but could not help expressing her surprise at the interest which her brother took in that child. She was a good woman, but it was not strange if the thought should come to her that she had two daughters of her own, having a better claim upon their uncle’s money than this wild girl whom he had picked up in the streets. But Captain Barnes showed that he had not forgotten his nieces, as two handsome dress-patterns, sent in from Stewart’s during the afternoon, sufficiently evinced.
Tom had not yet met Mrs. Merton’s daughters, both being absent at school. They returned home about three o’clock. Mary, a girl of about Tom’s age, had rather pretty, but insipid, features, and was vain of what she regarded as her beauty. Fanny, who was eight, was more attractive.
“Children, can’t you speak to your uncle?” said Mrs. Merton; for the captain declared himself tired, and did not go out after lunch.
“How do you do, uncle?” said Mary, advancing and offering her hand.
“Why, Mary, you have become quite a young lady,” said her uncle.
Mary simpered and looked pleased.
“And Fanny too. Martha, where is that doll I brought for her?”
The doll was handed to the delighted child.
“I suppose you are too old for dolls, Mary,” said the captain to his eldest niece.
“I should think so, Uncle Albert,” answered Mary, bridling.