"Mrs. Paisley!" he cried, with the authority of an old man of fifty, "tell Glen to send up some sweet madeira—I hate port. Ha! little miser, is that you?" springing from his chair. "Why, I thought it was myself. Now, mind, don't soil those clothes, for they don't belong to you."
"Never mind, Anthony," said his uncle. "To-morrow I will have some made for you. Mrs. Paisley, are not these children strikingly alike?"
"Why, yes, your honor, they are too much alike to be lucky. Master Godfrey may lay all his mischievous pranks upon this young one, and you will never find out the mistake."
"Thank you, Paisley, for the hint. Come and sit by me, double, and let us be friends."
"I am sure you look like brothers—ay, and twin brothers, too," said Mrs. Paisley.
"They are first cousins," said Algernon, gravely. "This child is the only son and heir of my rich brother, Mrs. Paisley: I beg that he may be treated accordingly."
"Oh, certainly, sir. I never had a child so like my husband as this boy is like you."
"Very likely, Mrs. Paisley," said the Colonel. "I have seen many children that did not resemble their fathers. Perhaps yours were in the same predicament?"
"Whether they were or no, they are all in heaven with their poor dear father," whimpered Mrs. Paisley, "and have left me a lone widow, with no one to love or take care of me."
"Jacob Glen says that you are a good hand at taking care of yourself, Paisley," said Godfrey; "but I dare say Master Jacob would be glad of taking care of you himself. Here's your good health, Mrs. P——;" and down went the madeira.