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Mrs. Poynsett had not been a woman of intimate
female friends. Her sons had served the purpose, and this was
perhaps one great element in her almost unbounded influence with
them. Julius was deeply concerned to see her eyes glistening with
tears as she spoke of the cloud that had risen between her and
Frank.
"There is great hope that this younger one may be worthy," he said.
"She has had a very different bringing up from her sister, and I did
not tell you what I found her doing. She was teaching a little pig-
herd boy to draw."
"Ah! I heard Lady Tyrrell was taking to the education of the people
line."
"I want to know who the boy is," said Julius. "He called himself
Reynolds, and said he lived with granny, but was not a son of
Daniel's or Timothy's. He seemed about ten years old."
"Reynolds? Then I know who he must be. Don't you remember a
pretty-looking girl we had in the nursery in Charlie's time? His
'Fan-fan' he used to call her."
"Ah, yes, I remember; she was a Reynolds, for both the little boys
could be excited to fury if we assumed that she was a fox.


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