CHAPTER XXI.
A FIRST MEETING.
He took her hand, and felt it an honest one--a safe, comfortable hand.
"My brother told me he had brought you," she said.

"I am glad to see you." "You are very kind," said Donal.

"How did either of you know of my existence?
A few minutes back, I was not aware of yours." Was it a rude utterance?
He was silent a moment with the silence that promises speech, then added-- "Has it ever struck you how many born friends there are in the world who never meet--persons to love each other at first sight, but who never in this world have that sight ?" "No," returned Miss Graeme, with a merrier laugh than quite responded to the remark, "I certainly never had such a thought.

I take the people that come, and never think of those who do not.

But of course it must be so." "To be in the world is to have a great many brothers and sisters you do not know!" said Donal.
"My mother told me," she rejoined, "of a man who had had so many wives and children that his son, whom she had met, positively did not know all his brothers and sisters." "I suspect," said Donal, "we have to know our brothers and sisters." "I do not understand." "We have even got to feel a man is our brother the moment we see him," pursued Donal, enhancing his former remark.
"That sounds alarming!" said Miss Graeme, with another laugh.