CHAPTER XVIII.
AUNT AND NEPHEW.
"I don't think I can come here till to-morrow, Aunt Deborah," said Ferdinand, a little later.

"I'll stay at the hotel to-night, and come round with my baggage in the morning." "Very well, nephew, but now you're here, you must stay to tea." "Thank you, aunt, I will." "I little thought this mornin', I should have Henry's son to tea," said Aunt Deborah, half to herself.

"You don't look any like him, Ferdinand." "No, I don't think I do." "It's curis too, for you was his very picter when you was a boy." "I've changed a good deal since then, Aunt Deborah," said her nephew, a little uneasily.
"So you have, to be sure.

Now there's your hair used to be almost black, now it's brown.

Really I can't account for it," and Aunt Deborah surveyed the young man over her spectacles.
"You've got a good memory, aunt," said Ferdinand with a forced laugh.
"Now ef your hair had grown darker, I shouldn't have wondered," pursued Aunt Deborah; "but it aint often black turns to brown." "That's so, aunt, but I can explain it," said Ferdinand, after a slight pause.
"How was it ?" "You know the French barbers can change your hair to any shade you want." "Can they ?" "Yes, to be sure.