CHAPTER III.
THE UNEXPECTED.
When Mr. Montfort came home that afternoon, Margaret was waiting for him, as usual, on the verandah; as usual, for she was determined to keep the worry out of her face and out of her voice. But as her uncle came up the steps, with his cheery "Well! and how's my lassie?" he was confronted by Miss Sophronia Montfort, who, passing Margaret swiftly, advanced with both hands held out, and a beaming smile.
"My dearest John! my poor, dear fellow! Confess that I have surprised you. Confess it, John!—you did not expect to see me."
"Sophronia!" exclaimed Mr. Montfort. He stood still and contemplated the visitor for a moment; then he shook hands with her, rather formally.
"You certainly have surprised me, Sophronia!" he said, kindly enough. "What wind has blown you in this direction?"
"The wind of affection, my dear boy!" cried the strange lady. "I have been planning it, ever since I heard of Aunt Faith's death. Dearest Aunt Faith! What a loss, John! what an irreparable loss! I shall never recover from the shock. The moment I heard of it, I said—William would tell you, if he were here—I said, 'I must go to John! He will need me now,' I said, 'and go I must.' I explained to William that I felt it as a solemn duty. He took it beautifully, poor, dear fellow. I don't know how they will get on without me, for his wife is sadly heedless, John, and the children need a steady hand, they do indeed. But he did not try to keep me back; indeed, he urged me to come, which showed such a beautiful spirit, didn't it? And so here I am, my dearest boy, come to take Aunt Faith's place, and make a home for you, my poor lonely cousin. You know I have always loved you as a sister, John, and you must consider me a real sister now; sister Sophronia, dear John!"
The lady paused for breath, and gazed tenderly on Mr. Montfort; that gentleman returned her gaze with one of steady gravity.
"I shall be glad to have a visit from you, Sophronia," he said. "I have no doubt we can make you comfortable for a few weeks; I can hardly suppose that William can spare you longer than that. We have no children here to need your—your ministrations."
The lady shook her head playfully; she had thin curls of a grayish yellow, which almost rattled when she shook her head.