"And yet she is," replied Dina with assurance. "Her smile is ever so sweet, and her big grey eyes are lovely; and then she has such a quantity of brown hair, with just little gleams of white as if they had been sprinkled in with a sugar-sifter. And she's tall and graceful, like darling mother." And the child's voice broke, and her eyes filled with tears.
"Dad's not often nice to anyone," said Gerald after a brief pause; "but he was to her. If he'd been half as good to Brother Bob, he'd have been here now."
"Poor dear Brother Bob!" sighed Dina. "There's nothing now to keep him from going to the bad," and the little girl turned away sad at heart, and wandered off alone, brooding over the sorrow which had already come into her young life.
The next day the children had lessons all the morning, at which Miss Burnard showed herself an interesting teacher. In the afternoon the twins took her all over the queer old house.
"For you must see for yourself what a musty old curiosity shop it is, Miss Burnard," said Gerald.
"Yes," added Dina, "dad cares for nothing much younger than Noah's ark, and that's why he never cared much about his children, though he's only had three—Brother Bob and us twins."
"Come along, Miss Burnard," said Gerald, "come and see the only beautiful things in all dad's collection." And he led the way to the gem cabinet in the drawing-room.
"You are right, my dear boy," said the governess, when the twins had done the honours of the cabinet; "these things are indeed beautiful, and they must be valuable too."
"I shouldn't wonder," replied Gerald discontentedly. "I wish dad would sell the lot and buy us ponies to ride, but he's the sort of dad who only thinks of himself."
"I hope—oh, I do hope you are not the sort of boy who often speaks of his father like that," was the gentle rejoinder, and Gerald could not resent it, for her smile was so sweet, and the pressure of her hand on his arm had in it an attractive force that drew the boy to her in spite of himself.