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"My love, I've told my brother of his coming to us—" Charles's voice broke into his thoughts.

"And he's corning?"

"I trust that he is, with all our pretty nieces."

"We shall be a large family," said Louise, laughing. "But I am pleased. This house often seems lonely, as if more people should be in it."

"And I've promised Gervase that you shall train up his daughters to marry the very best of the French exiles—that they shall wear their caps and mantos and petticoats and trains in such a fashion that no man can resist 'em, and dress their heads in so artful a manner that each hair shall be a chain to lead a beau . . ."

"Nay, I am not a milliner or a hairdresser, and they are more like to take a Frenchman's heart with their pretty English barbarities than with graces learned from a Frenchwoman."

"I don't want my daughters turned into fine ladies," said Gervase, "all I ask you, sister, is to teach 'em gentle manners. They've lacked a mother's care too long."

"My friend," laughed Louise, "I can teach them nothing—they will not learn from me. But I shall be very pleased to have them in the house and listen to them laughing so loud—so loud . . . and I think that the young réfugiés will like it too."