Mr.Keith, this is my cousin, Miss Brooke." "Miss Abigail Brooke, spinster," dropping him a quaint little curtsy.
So this was little Lois's old aunt, Dr.Balsam's sweetheart--the girl who had made him a wanderer; and she was possibly the St.Abigail of whom Alice Yorke used to speak! The old lady turned to Mrs.Wentworth.
"He is losing his manners; see how he is staring.

What did I tell you?
One week in New York is warranted to break any gentleman of good manners." "Oh, not so bad as that," said Mrs.Wentworth.

"Now you sit down there and get acquainted with each other." So Keith sat down by Miss Brooke, and she was soon telling him of her niece, who, she said, was always talking of him and his father.
"Is she as pretty as she was as a child ?" Keith asked.
"Yes--much too pretty; and she knows it, too," smiled the old lady.

"I have to hold her in with a strong hand, I tell you.

She has got her head full of boys already." Other callers began to appear just then.