They had passed us, when the carriage stopped, and
the old gentleman within, putting out his arm, called to me by my
name. I went back, and was absent from Mr. Slinkton and his niece
for about five minutes.
When I rejoined them, Mr. Slinkton was the first to speak. Indeed,
he said to me in a raised voice before I came up with him:
'It is well you have not been longer, or my niece might have died
of curiosity to know who her shadow is, Mr. Sampson.'
'An old East India Director,' said I. 'An intimate friend of our
friend's, at whose house I first had the pleasure of meeting you.
A certain Major Banks. You have heard of him?'
'Never.'
'Very rich, Miss Niner; but very old, and very crippled. An
amiable man, sensible - much interested in you. He has just been
expatiating on the affection that he has observed to exist between
you and your uncle.'
Mr. Slinkton was holding his hat again, and he passed his hand up
the straight walk, as if he himself went up it serenely, after me.
'Mr. Sampson,' he said, tenderly pressing his niece's arm in his,
'our affection was always a strong one, for we have had but few
near ties. We have still fewer now. We have associations to bring
us together, that are not of this world, Margaret.'
'Dear uncle!' murmured the young lady, and turned her face aside to
hide her tears.
'My niece and I have such remembrances and regrets in common, Mr.
Sampson,' he feelingly pursued, 'that it would be strange indeed if
the relations between us were cold or indifferent.
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