At such times he was given to affirm that no tie of blood could be stronger.

"She is my sister in everything but name," he would say.
His influence over her was so great that he charmed her out of her quiet mood, and they were soon laughing and chatting in their old way.
They got into a hansom presently and drove to Cheyne Walk.

As they passed Cheyne Row, and looked up at the grim old figure of the Sage of Chelsea, looking so gray and weather-beaten, Malcolm proposed that they should make a pilgrimage to No.

5, but Anna refused.
"We have been there three times," she objected, "and I do so dislike that dismal, dreary old house.

I don't wonder that bright, clever Mrs.
Carlyle was moped to death there." "Hush, you little heretic," returned Malcolm good-humouredly.