“That’s my name, sir; and it was my papa’s name too. Mamma called him that, but most folks said captain when they talked to him,” volunteered the little fellow in return.
“Ah? then I’m your uncle Albert; and this gentleman,” indicating his brother, “is your uncle George.”
“Oh I thought so for you resemble papa; at least as he was before he was taken so ill,” Ethel said, lifting tearful eyes to the face of Mr. George Eldon.
“Do I, my dear? I believe there is said to be a strong family resemblance among us all,” he returned. “At all events we are your father’s brothers, and therefore own uncles to all of you little ones,” he added, stooping to caress them in turn, as his brother was doing.
Then the gentlemen held a conversation with Mrs. McDougal in which—perceiving how loth the children were to be separated from her, clinging to her with tears and entreaties that she would not leave them—they proposed that she should remain in charge of them for a few days or weeks while they were becoming familiar with their new surroundings.
She replied that she could do so for only a day or two, as she must embrace the first opportunity to rejoin her husband.
“I am sorry to hear that,” returned Mr. Albert Eldon, “but do us the favor to stay while you can; and let it be at my house; for we will not try separating these little folks while you are with them, whatever arrangement we may decide upon later. Will not that be the better plan, brother?”
“For the present—till we have time to talk the matter over with our wives? Yes, I think so.”
A carriage was waiting on the wharf, in which Mrs. McDougal and the children were presently bestowed, Mr. Albert Eldon following, after a moment’s low-toned chat with his brother and an order to the driver. He seated himself and took Harry on his knee.
“Where are we doin’ now?” asked Nannette, peering out of the window as the vehicle moved on.