HENRIETTA'S WISH;

OR, DOMINEERING

By Charlotte M. Yonge

CHAPTER I. 

On the afternoon of a warm day in the end of July, an open carriage waswaiting in front of the painted toy-looking building which served asthe railway station of Teignmouth. The fine bay horses stood patientlyenduring the attacks of hosts of winged foes, too well-behaved toexpress their annoyance otherwise than by twitchings of their sleekshining skins, but duly grateful to the coachman, who roused himself nowand then to whisk off some more pertinacious tormentor with the end ofhis whip. 

Less patient was the sole occupant of the carriage, a maiden of aboutsixteen years of age, whose shady dark grey eyes, parted lips, andflushed complexion, were all full of the utmost eagerness, as every twoor three minutes she looked up from the book which she held in her handto examine the clock over the station door, compare it with her watch, and study the countenances of the bystanders to see whether theyexpressed any anxiety respecting the non-arrival of the train. All, however, seemed quite at their ease, and after a time the arrival of therailway omnibus and two or three other carriages, convinced her that therest of the world only now began to consider it to be due. At last theringing of a bell quickened everybody into a sudden state of activity, and assured her that the much-desired moment was come. The cloud ofsmoke was seen, the panting of the engine was heard, the train displayedits length before the station, men ran along tapping the doors of thecarriages, and shouting a word which bore some distant resemblance to"Teignmouth, " and at the same moment various travellers emerged from thedifferent vehicles. 

Her eye eagerly sought out one of these arrivals, who on his side, aftera hasty greeting to the servant who met him on the platform, hurried tothe carriage, and sprang into it. The two faces, exactly alike in form, complexion, and features, were for one moment pressed together, thenwithdrawn, in the consciousness of the publicity of the scene, but thehands remained locked together, and earnest was the tone of the "Well, Fred!" "Well, Henrietta!" which formed the greeting of the twin brotherand sister. 

"And was not mamma well enough to come?" asked Frederick, as thecarriage turned away from the station. 

"She was afraid of the heat. She had some business letters to writeyesterday, which teased her, and she has not recovered from them yet;but she has been very well, on the whole, this summer. But what of yourschool affairs, Fred? How did the examination go off?"

"I am fourth, and Alex Langford fifth. Every one says the prize will liebetween us next year. "

"Surely, " said Henrietta, "you must be able to beat him then, if you arebefore him now. "

"Don't make too sure, Henrietta, " said Frederick, shaking his head, "Langford is a hard-working fellow, very exact and accurate; I shouldnot have been before him now if it had not been for my verses. "

"I know Beatrice is very proud of Alexander, " said Henrietta, "she wouldmake a great deal of his success. "

"Why of his more than of that of any other cousin?" said Frederick withsome dissatisfaction. 

"O you know he is the only one of the Knight Sutton cousins whom shepatronizes; all the others she calls cubs and bears and Osbaldistones. And indeed, Uncle Geoffrey says he thinks it was in great part owing toher that Alex is different from the rest. At least he began to thinkhim worth cultivating from the time he found him and Busy Bee perchedup together in an apple-tree, she telling him the story of Alexander theGreat. And how she always talks about Alex when she is here. "

"Is she at Knight Sutton?"

"Yes, Aunt Geoffrey would not come here, because she did not wish tobe far from London, because old Lady Susan has not been well. And onlythink, Fred, Queen Bee says there is a very nice house to be let closeto the village, and they went to look at it with grandpapa, and he kepton saying how well it would do for us. "

"O, if we could but get mamma there!" said Fred. "What does she say?"

"She knows the house, and says it is a very pleasant one, " saidHenrietta; "but that is not an inch--no, not the hundredth part of aninch--towards going there!"

"It would surely be a good thing for her if she could but be broughtto believe so, " said Frederick. "All her attachments are there--her ownhome; my father's home. "

"There is nothing but the sea to be attached to, here, " saidHenrietta. "Nobody can take root without some local interest, and as toacquaintance, the people are always changing. "

"And there is nothing to do, " added Fred; "nothing possible but boatingand riding, which are not worth the misery which they cause her, asUncle Geoffrey says. It is very, very--"

"Aggravating, " said Henrietta, supplying one of the numerous stock offamily slang words. 

"Yes, aggravating, " said he with a smile, "to be placed under thenecessity of being absurd, or of annoying her!"

"Annoying! O, Fred, you do not know a quarter of what she goes throughwhen she thinks you are in any danger. It could not be worse if you wereon the field of battle! And it is very strange, for she is not at all atimid person for herself. In the boat, that time when the wind rose, Iam sure Aunt Geoffrey was more afraid than she was, and I have seen itagain and again that she is not easily frightened. "

"No: and I do not think she is afraid for you. "

"Not as she is for you, Fred; but then boys are so much more preciousthan girls, and besides they love to endanger themselves so much, that Ithink that is reasonable. "

"Uncle Geoffrey thinks there is something nervous and morbid in it, "said Fred: "he thinks that it is the remains of the horror of the suddenshock--"

"What? Our father's accident?" asked Henrietta. "I never knew rightlyabout that. I only knew it was when we were but a week old. "

"No one saw it happen, " said Fred; "he went out riding, his horse camehome without him, and he was lying by the side of the road. "

"Did they bring him home?" asked Henrietta, in the same low thrillingtone in which her brother spoke. 

"Yes, but he never recovered his senses: he just said 'Mary, ' once ortwice, and only lived to the middle of the night!"

"Terrible!" said Henrietta, with a shudder. "O! how did mamma everrecover it?--at least, I do not think she has recovered it now, --but Imeant live, or be even as well as she is. "

"She was fearfully ill for long after, " said Fred, "and Uncle Geoffreythinks that these anxieties for me are an effect of the shock. He saysthey are not at all like her usual character. I am sure it is not to bewondered at. "

"O no, no, " said Henrietta. "What a mystery it has always seemed to usabout papa! She sometimes mentioning him in talking about her childishdays and Knight Sutton, but if we tried to ask any more, grandmammastopping us directly, till we learned to believe we ought never to utterhis name. I do believe, though, that mamma herself would have found it acomfort to talk to us about him, if poor dear grandmamma had not alwayscut her short, for fear it should be too much for her. "

"But had you not always an impression of something dreadful about hisdeath?"

"O yes, yes; I do not know how we acquired it, but that I am sure wehad, and it made us shrink from asking any questions, or even fromtalking to each other about it. All I knew I heard from Beatrice. DidUncle Geoffrey tell you this?"

"Yes, he told me when he was here last Easter, and I was asking him tospeak to mamma about my fishing, and saying how horrid it was to be keptback from everything. First he laughed, and said it was the penalty ofbeing an only son, and then he entered upon this history, to show me howit is. "

"But it is very odd that she should have let you learn to ride, whichone would have thought she would have dreaded most of all. "

"That was because she thought it right, he says. Poor mamma, she saidto him, 'Geoffrey, if you think it right that Fred should begin toride, never mind my folly. ' He says that he thinks it cost her as muchresolution to say that as it might to be martyred. And the same aboutgoing to school. "

"Yes, yes; exactly, " said Henrietta, "if she thinks it is right, bear itshe will, cost her what it may! O there is nobody like mamma. Busy Beesays so, and she knows, living in London and seeing so many people asshe does. "

"I never saw anyone so like a queen, " said Fred. "No, nor anyone sobeautiful, though she is so pale and thin. People say you are like herin her young days, Henrietta; and to be sure, you have a decent face ofyour own, but you will never be as beautiful as mamma, not if you liveto be a hundred. "

"You are afraid to compliment my face because it is so like your own, Master Fred, " retorted his sister; "but one comfort is, that I shallgrow more like her by living to a hundred, whereas you will lose allthe little likeness you have, and grow a grim old Black-beard! But I wasgoing to say, Fred, that, though I think there is a great deal of truthin what Uncle Geoffrey said, yet I do believe that poor grandmamma madeit worse. You know she had always been in India, and knew less aboutboys than mamma, who had been brought up with papa and my uncles, soshe might really believe that everything was dangerous; and I haveoften seen her quite as much alarmed, or more perhaps, about you--herconsolations just showing that she was in a dreadful fright, and makingmamma twice as bad. "

"Well, " said Fred, sighing, "that is all over now, and she thought shewas doing it all for the best. "

"And, " proceeded Henrietta, "I think, and Queen Bee thinks, that thisperpetual staying on at Rocksand was more owing to her than to mamma. She imagined that mamma could not bear the sight of Knight Sutton, andthat it was a great kindness to keep her from thinking of moving--"

"Ay, and that nobody can doctor her but Mr. Clarke, " added Fred. 

"Till now, I really believe, " said Henrietta, "that the possibility ofmoving has entirely passed out of her mind, and she no more believesthat she can do it than that the house can. "

"Yes, " said Fred, "I do not think a journey occurs to her among eventspossible, and yet without being very fond of this place. "

"Fond! O no! it never was meant to be a home, and has nothing homelikeabout it! All her affections are really at Knight Sutton, and if sheonce went there, she would stay and be so much happier among her ownfriends, instead of being isolated here with me. In grandmamma's timeit was not so bad for her, but now she has no companion at all but me. Rocksand has all the loneliness of the country without its advantages. "

"There is not much complaint as to happiness, after all, " said Fred. 

"No, O no! but then it is she who makes it delightful, and it cannot bewell for her to have no one to depend upon but me. Besides, how uselessone is here. No opportunity of doing anything for the poor people, noclergyman who will put one into the way of being useful. O how nice itwould be at Knight Sutton!"

"And perhaps she would be cured of her fears, " added Fred; "she wouldfind no one to share them, and be convinced by seeing that the cousinsthere come to no harm. I wish Uncle Geoffrey would recommend it!"

"Well, we will see what we can do, " said Henrietta. "I do think we maypersuade her, and I think we ought; it would be for her happiness andfor yours, and on all accounts I am convinced that it ought to be done. "

And as Henrietta came to this serious conclusion, they entered the steepstraggling street of the little town of Rocksand, and presently werewithin the gates of the sweep which led to the door of the verandahedGothic cottage, which looked very tempting for summer's lodging, but waslittle fitted for a permanent abode. 

In spite of all the longing wishes expressed during the drive, noancestral home, beloved by inheritance, could have been entered withmore affectionate rapture than that with which Frederick Langford sprungfrom the carriage, and flew to the arms of his mother, receiving andreturning such a caress as could only be known by a boy conscious thathe had done nothing to forfeit home love and confidence. 

Turning back the fair hair that hung over his forehead, Mrs. Langfordlooked into his eyes, saying, half-interrogatively, half-affirmatively, "All right, Fred? Nothing that we need be afraid to tell Uncle Geoffrey?Well, Henrietta, he is grown, but he has not passed you yet. And now, Freddy, tell us about your examination, " added she, as fondly leaning onhis arm, she proceeded into the drawing-room, and they sat down togetheron the sofa, talking eagerly and joyously. 

Mrs. Frederick Henry Langford, to give her her proper style, was intruth one whose peculiar loveliness of countenance well deserved theadmiration expressed by her son. It was indeed pale and thin, but thefeatures were beautifully formed, and had that expression of sweetplacid resignation which would have made a far plainer face beautiful. The eyes were deep dark blue, and though sorrow and suffering had dimmedtheir brightness, their softness was increased; the smile was one ofpeace, of love, of serenity; of one who, though sorrow-stricken, as itwere, before her time, had lived on in meek patience and submission, almost a child in her ways, as devoted to her mother, as little witha will and way of her own, as free from the cares of this work-a-dayworld. The long luxuriant dark brown hair, which once, as now withHenrietta, had clustered in thick glossy ringlets over her comb andround her face, was in thick braids beneath the delicate lace cap whichsuited with her plain black silk dress. Her figure was slender, so tallthat neither her well-grown son nor daughter had yet reached her height, and, as Frederick said, with something queenlike in its unconsciousgrace and dignity. 

As a girl she had been the merriest of the merry, and even now she hadgreat playfulness of manner, and threw herself into the occupation ofthe moment with a life and animation that gave an uncommon charm toher manners, so that how completely sorrow had depressed and broken herspirit would scarcely have been guessed by one who had not known her inearlier days. 

Frederick's account of his journey and of his school news was heard andcommented on, a work of time extending far into the dinner; the nextmatter in the regular course of conversation on the day of arrivalwas to talk over Uncle and Aunt Geoffrey's proceedings, and the KnightSutton affairs. 

"So, Uncle Geoffrey has been in the North?" said Fred. 

"Yes, on a special retainer, " said Mrs. Langford, "and very much heseems to have enjoyed his chance of seeing York Cathedral. "

"He wrote to me in court, " said Fred, "to tell me what books I hadbetter get up for this examination, and on a bit of paper scribbledall over one side with notes of the evidence. He said the Cathedral wasbeautiful beyond all he ever imagined. "

"Had he never seen it before?" said Henrietta. "Lawyers seem made totravel in their vacations. "

"Uncle Geoffrey could not be spared, " said her mamma; "I do not knowwhat Grandmamma Langford would do if he cheated her of any more of hisholidays than he bestows upon us. He is far too valuable to be allowedto take his own pleasure. "

"Besides, his own pleasure is at Knight Sutton, " said Henrietta. 

"He goes home just as he used from school, " said Mrs. Langford. "Indeed, except a few grey hairs and crows feet, he is not in the least alteredfrom those days; his work and play come in just the same way. "

"And, as his daughter says, he is just as much the home pet, " addedHenrietta, "only rivalled by Busy Bee herself. "

"No, " said Fred, "according to Aunt Geoffrey, there are two suns in onesphere: Queen Bee is grandpapa's pet, Uncle Geoffrey grandmamma's. Itmust be great fun to see them. "

"Happy people!" said Mrs. Langford. 

"Henrietta says, " proceeded Fred, "that there is a house to be let atKnight Sutton. "

"The Pleasance; yes, I know it well, " said his mother: "it is notactually in the parish, but close to the borders, and a very prettyplace. "

"With a pretty little stream in the garden, Fred, "said Henrietta, "andlooking into that beautiful Sussex coom, that there is a drawing of inmamma's room. "

"What size is it?" added Fred. 

"The comparative degree, " said Mrs. Langford, "but my acquaintancewith it does not extend beyond the recollection of a pretty-lookingdrawing-room with French windows, and a lawn where I used to be allowedto run about when I went with Grandmamma Langford to call on the oldMiss Drakes. I wonder your Uncle Roger does not take it, for those boyscan scarcely, I should think, be wedged into Sutton Leigh when they areall at home. "

"I wish some one else would take it, " said Fred. 

"Some one, " added Henrietta, "who would like it of all things, and bequite at home there. "

"A person, " proceeded the boy, "who likes Knight Sutton and itsinhabitants better than anything else. "

"Only think, " joined in the young lady, "how delightful it would be. Ican just fancy you, mamma, sitting out on this lawn you talk of, on asummer's day, and nursing your pinks and carnations, and listening tothe nightingales, and Grandpapa and Grandmamma Langford, and Uncleand Aunt Roger, and the cousins coming walking in at any time withoutringing at the door! And how nice to have Queen Bee and Uncle and AuntGeoffrey all the vacation!"

"Without feeling as if we were robbing Knight Sutton, " said Mrs. Langford. "Why, we should have you a regular little country maid, Henrietta, riding shaggy ponies, and scrambling over hedges, as yourmamma did before you. "

"And being as happy as a queen, " said Henrietta; "and the poor people, you know them all, don't you, mamma?"

"I know their names, but my generation must have nearly passed away. ButI should like you to see old Daniels the carpenter, whom the boys usedto work with, and who was so fond of them. And the old schoolmistressin her spectacles. How she must be scandalized by the introduction of anoun and a verb!"

"Who has been so cruel?" asked Fred. "Busy Bee, I suppose. "

"Yes, " said Henrietta, "she teaches away with all her might; but shesays she is afraid they will forget it all while she is in London, forthere is no one to keep it up. Now, I could do that nicely. How I shouldlike to be Queen Bee's deputy. "

"But, " said Fred, "how does Beatrice manage to make grandmamma enduresuch novelties? I should think she would disdain them more than the oldmistress herself. "

"Queen Bee's is not merely a nominal sovereignty, " said Mrs. Langford. 

"Besides, " said Henrietta, "the new Clergyman approves of all that sortof thing; he likes her to teach, and puts her in the way of it. "

CHAPTER II. 

From this time forward everything tended towards Knight Sutton: castlesin the air, persuasions, casual words which showed the turn of thoughtof the brother and sister, met their mother every hour. Nor was she, asHenrietta truly said, entirely averse to the change; she loved to talkof what she still regarded as her home, but the shrinking dread of thepang it must give to return to the scene of her happiest days, to theburial-place of her husband, to the abode of his parents, had beenaugmented by the tender over-anxious care of her mother, Mrs. Vivian, who had strenuously endeavoured to prevent her from ever taking such aproposal into consideration, and fairly led her at length to believe itout of the question. 

A removal would in fact have been impossible during the latter years ofMrs. Vivian's life: but she had now been dead about eighteen months, herdaughter had recovered from the first grief of her loss, and there wasa general impression throughout the family that now was the time forher to come amongst them again. For herself, the possibility was butbeginning to dawn upon her; just at first she joined in building castlesand imagining scenes at Knight Sutton, without thinking of their beingrealized, or that it only depended upon her, to find herself at homethere; and when Frederick and Henrietta, encouraged by this manner oftalking, pressed it upon her, she would reply with some vague intentionof a return some time or other, but still thinking of it as somethingfar away, and rather to be dreaded than desired. 

It was chiefly by dint of repetition that it fully entered her mindthat it was their real and earnest wish that she should engage to takea lease of the Pleasance, and remove almost immediately from her presentabode; and from this time it might be perceived that she always shrankfrom entering on the subject in a manner which gave them little reasonto hope. 

"Yet, I think, " said Henrietta to her brother one afternoon as theywere walking together on the sands; "I think if she once thought it wasright, if Uncle Geoffrey would tell her so, or if grandpapa would reallytell her that he wished it, I am quite sure that she would resolve uponit. "

"But why did he not do so long ago?" said Fred. 

"O! because of grandmamma, I suppose, " said Henrietta; "but he reallydoes wish it, and I should not at all wonder if the Busy Bee could putit into his head to do it. "

"Or if Uncle Geoffrey would advise her, " said Fred; "but it neveranswers to try to make him propose anything to her. He never will do it;he always says he is not the Pope, or something to that effect. "

"If I was not fully convinced that it was right, and the best for allparties, I would not say so much about it, " said Henrietta, in a tonerather as if she was preparing for some great sacrifice, instead ofdomineering over her mother. 

To domineering, her temptation was certainly great. With all her goodsense and ability, Mrs. Langford had seldom been called upon to decidefor herself, but had always relied upon her mother for counsel; andduring her long and gradual decline had learnt to depend upon herbrother-in-law, Mr. Geoffrey Langford, for direction in great affairs, and in lesser ones upon her children. Girls are generally older of theirage than boys, and Henrietta, a clever girl and her mother's constantcompanion, occupied a position in the family which amounted to somethingmore than prime minister. Some one person must always be leader, andthus she had gradually attained, or had greatness thrust upon her; forjustice requires it to be stated, that she more frequently tried to knowher mamma's mind for her, than to carry her own point, though perhaps todo so always was more than could be expected of human nature at sixteen. The habit of being called on to settle whether they should use thebritska or the pony carriage, whether satin or silk was best, or this orthat book should be ordered, was, however, sufficient to make her veryunwilling to be thwarted in other matters of more importance, especiallyin one on which were fixed the most ardent hopes of her brother, and thewishes of all the family. 

Their present abode was, as she often said to herself, not the one bestcalculated for the holiday sports of a boy of sixteen, yet Frederick, having been used to nothing else, was very happy, and had tastes formedon their way of life. The twins, as little children, had always had thesame occupations, Henrietta learning Latin, marbles, and trap-ball, andFrederick playing with dolls and working cross-stitch; and even now thecustom was so far continued, that he gave lessons in Homer and Euclidfor those which he received in Italian and music. For present amusementthere was no reason to complain; the neighbourhood supplied manybeautiful walks, while longer expeditions were made with Mrs. Langfordin the pony carriage, and sketching, botanizing, and scrambling, werethe order of the day. Boating too was a great delight, and had it notbeen for an occasional fretting recollection that he could not go outsailing without his mamma, and that most of his school fellows werespending their holidays in a very different manner, he would have beenperfectly happy. Fortunately he had not sufficient acquaintance with theboys in the neighbourhood for the contrast to be often brought beforehim. 

Henrietta did not do much to reconcile him to the anxious carewith which he was guarded. She was proud of his talents, of hisaccomplishments, of his handsome features, and she would willingly havebeen proud of his excellence in manly sports, but in lieu of this shewas proud of the spirit which made him long for them, and encouraged itby her full and entire sympathy. The belief that the present restraintsmust be diminished at Knight Sutton, was a moving spring with her, asmuch as her own wish for the scenes round which imagination had thrownsuch a brilliant halo. Of society they had hitherto seen little ornothing; Mrs. Langford's health and spirits had never been equal tovisiting, nor was there much to tempt her in the changing inhabitants ofa watering-place. Now and then, perhaps, an old acquaintance or distantconnexion of some part of the family came for a month or six weeks, anda few calls were exchanged, and it was one of these visits that led tothe following conversation. 

"By the by, mamma, " said Fred, "I meant to ask you what that foolishwoman meant about the St. Legers, and their not having thoroughlyapproved of Aunt Geoffrey's marriage. "

"About the most ill-placed thing she could have said, Freddy, " repliedMrs. Langford, "considering that I was always accused of having made thematch. "

"Made the match! O tell us, mamma; tell us all about it. Did youreally?"

"Not consciously; Fred, and Frank St. Leger deserves as much of thecredit as I do. "

"Who was he? a brother of Aunt Geoffrey's?"

"O yes, Fred, " said Henrietta, "to be sure you knew that. You have heardhow mamma came home from India with General St. Leger and his little boyand girl. But by the by, mamma, what became of their mother?"

"Lady Beatrice? She died in India just before we came home. Well, I usedto stay with them after we came back to England, and of course talked tomy friend--"

"Call her Beatrice, mamma, and make a story of it. "

"I talked to her about my Knight Sutton home, and cousins, and on theother hand, then, Frank was always telling her about his school friendGeoffrey Langford. At last Frank brought him home from Oxford one Eastervacation. It was when the general was in command at ----, and Beatricewas in the midst of all sorts of gaieties, the mistress of the house, entertaining everybody, and all exactly what a novel would callbrilliant. "

"Were you there, mamma?"

"Yes, Beatrice had made a point of our coming to stay with her, and verydroll it was to see how she and Geoffrey were surprised at each other;she to find her brother's guide, philosopher, and friend, the Langfordwho had gained every prize, a boyish-looking, boyish-mannered youth, very shy at first, and afterwards, excellent at giggling and makinggiggle; and he to find one with the exterior of a fine gay lady, soreally simple in tastes and habits. "

"Was Aunt Geoffrey ever pretty?" asked Fred. 

"She is just what she was then, a little brown thing with no actualbeauty but in her animation and in her expression. I never saw a reallyhandsome person who seemed to me nearly as charming. Then she had, andindeed has now, so much air and grace, so much of what, for want of abetter word, I must call fashion in her appearance, that she was alwaysvery striking. "

"Yes, " said Henrietta, "I can quite see that; it is not gracefulness, and it is not beauty, nor is it what she ever thinks of, but there issomething distinguished about her. I should look twice at her if I mether in the street, and expect her to get into a carriage with a coronet. And then and there they fell in love, did they?"

"In long morning expeditions with the ostensible purpose of sketching, but in which I had all the drawing to myself, while the others talkedeither wondrous wisely or wondrous drolly. However, you must not supposethat anything of the novel kind was said then; Geoffrey was only twenty, and Beatrice seemed as much out of his reach as the king's daughter ofHongarie. "

"O yes, of course, " said Henrietta, "but that only makes it moredelightful! Only to think of Uncle and Aunt Geoffrey having a novel intheir history. "

"That there are better novels in real life than in stories, is a truthor a truism often repeated, Henrietta, " said her mother with a softsigh, which she repressed in an instant, and proceeded: "Poor Frank'sillness and death at Oxford brought them together the next year in avery different manner. Geoffrey was one of his chief nurses to the last, and was a great comfort to them all; you may suppose how grateful theywere to him. Next time I saw him, he seemed quite to have buried hisyouthful spirits in his studies: he was reading morning, noon, andnight, and looking ill and overworked. "

"O, Uncle Geoffrey! dear good Uncle Geoffrey, " cried Henrietta, in anecstasy; "you were as delightful as a knight of old, only as you couldnot fight tournaments for her, you were obliged to read for her; andpining away all the time and saying nothing about it. "

"Nothing beyond a demure inquiry of me when we were alone together, after the health of the General. Well, you know how well his readingsucceeded; he took a double first class, and very proud of him we were. "

"And still he saw nothing of her, " said Fred. 

"Not till some time after he had been settled in his chambers at theTemple. Now you must know that General St. Leger, though in most mattersa wise man, was not by any means so in money matters: and by someunlucky speculation which was to have doubled his daughter's fortune, managed to lose the whole of it, leaving little but his pay. "

"Capital!" cried Frederick, "that brings her down to him. "

"So it did, " said his mother, smiling; "but the spectators did notrejoice quite so heartily as you do. The general's health was failing, and it was hard to think what would become of Beatrice; for Lord St. Leger's family, though very kind, were not more congenial than they arenow. As soon as all this was pretty well known, Geoffrey spoke, and thegeneral, who was very fond of him, gave full consent. They meant to waituntil it was prudent, of course, and were well contented; but just afterit was all settled, the general had a sudden seizure, and died. Geoffreywas with him, and he treated him like a son, saying it was his greatcomfort to know that her happiness was in his hands. Poor Beatrice, shewent first to the St. Legers, stayed with them two or three months, thenI would have her to be my bridesmaid, though"--and Mrs. Langford triedto smile, while again she strangled a sobbing sigh--"she warned me thather mourning was a bad omen. Well, she stayed with my mother while wewent abroad, and on our return went with us to be introduced at KnightSutton. Everybody was charmed, Mrs. Langford and Aunt Roger had expecteda fine lady or a blue one, but they soon learnt to believe all hergaiety and all her cleverness a mere calumny, and grandpapa wasdelighted with her the first moment. How well I remember Geoffrey'scoming home and thanking us for having managed so well as to make herlike one of the family, while the truth was that she had fitted herselfin, and found her place from the first moment. Now came a time of graveprivate conferences. A long engagement which might have been very wellif the general had lived, was a dreary prospect now that Beatrice waswithout a home; but then your uncle was but just called to the bar, and had next to nothing of his own, present or to come. However, hehad begun his literary works, and found them answer so well, that hebelieved he could maintain himself till briefs came in, and he had thesort of talent which gives confidence. He thought, too, that even inthe event of his death she would be better off as one of us, than asa dependent on the St. Legers; and at last by talking to us, he nearlypersuaded himself to believe it would be a very prudent thing to marry. It was a harder matter to persuade his father, but persuade him he did, and the wedding was at Knight Sutton that very summer. "

"That's right, " cried Fred, "excellent and glorious! A farthing for allthe St. Legers put together. "

"Nevertheless, Fred, in spite of your disdain, we were all of opinionthat it was a matter of rejoicing that Lord St. Leger and LadyAmelia were present, so that no one had any reason to say that theydisapproved. Moreover, lest you should learn imprudence from my story, I would also suggest that if your uncle and aunt had not been a couplecomme il-y-en a peu, it would neither have been excellent nor glorious. "

"Why, they are very well off, " said Fred; "he is quite at the head ofhis profession. The first thing a fellow asks me when he hears my nameis, if I belong to Langford the barrister. "

"Yes, but he never would have been eminent, scarcely have had dailybread, if he had not worked fearfully hard, so hard that without thebuoyant school-boy spirit, which can turn from the hardest toil like achild to its play, his health could never have stood it. "

"But then it has been success and triumph, " said Fred; "one could worklike a galley-slave with encouragement, and never feel it drudgery. "

"It was not all success at first, " said his mother; "there was hardwork, and disappointment, and heavy sorrow too; but they knew how tobear it, and to win through with it. "

"And were they very poor?" asked Henrietta. 

"Yes: but it was beautiful to see how she accommodated herself to it. The house that once looked dingy and desolate, was very soon pretty andcheerful, and the wirtschaft so well ordered and economical, that AuntRoger was struck dumb with admiration. I shall not forget Lady Susan'svisit the last morning we spent with her in London, how amazed she wasto find 'poor Beatrice' looking so bright and like herself, and howlittle she guessed at her morning's work, the study of shirt-making, andthe copying out a review of her husband's, full of Greek quotations. "

"Well, the poverty is all over now, " said Henrietta; "but still theylive in a very quiet way, considering Aunt Geoffrey's connexions and thefortune he has made. "

"Who put that notion into your head, my wise daughter?" said Mrs. Langford. 

Henrietta blushed, laughed, and mentioned Lady Matilda St. Leger, acousin of her aunt Geoffrey's of whom she had seen something in the lastyear. 

"The truth is, " said Mrs. Langford, "that your aunt had display andluxury enough in her youth to value it as it deserves, and he could notdesire it except for her sake. They had rather give with a free hand, beyond what any one knows or suspects. "

"Ah! I know among other things that he sends Alexander to school, " saidFred. 

"Yes, and the improvements at Knight Sutton, " said Henrietta, "theschool, and all that grandpapa wished but could never afford. Well, mamma, if you made the match, you deserve to be congratulated on yourwork. "

"There's nobody like Uncle Geoffrey, I have said, and shall alwaysmaintain, " said Fred. 

His mother sighed, saying, "I don't know what we should have donewithout him!" and became silent. Henrietta saw an expression on hercountenance which made her unwilling to disturb her, and nothing morewas said till it was discovered that it was bed time. 

CHAPTER III. 

"Where is Madame?" asked Frederick of his sister, as she entered thebreakfast room alone the next morning with the key of the tea-chest inher hand. 

"A headache, " answered Henrietta, "and a palpitation. "

"A bad one?"

"Yes, very; and I am afraid it is our fault, Freddy; I am convinced itwill not do, and we must give it up. "

"How do you mean? The going to Knight Sutton? What has that to do withit? Is it the reviving old recollections that is too much for her?"

"Just listen what an effect last evening's conversation had upon her. Last night, after I had been asleep a long time, I woke up, and thereI saw her kneeling before the table with her hands over her face. Justthen it struck one, and soon after she got into bed. I did not let herknow I was awake, for speaking would only have made it worse, but I amsure she did not sleep all night, and this morning she had one of hermost uncomfortable fits of palpitation. She had just fallen asleep, whenI looked in after dressing, but I do not think she will be fit to comedown to-day. "

"And do you think it was talking of Uncle and Aunt Geoffrey that broughtit on?" said Fred, with much concern; "yet it did not seem to have muchto do with my father. "

"O but it must, " said Henrietta. "He must have been there all the timemixed up in everything. Queen Bee has told me how they were alwaystogether when they were children. "

"Ah! perhaps; and I noticed how she spoke about her wedding, " saidFred. "Yes, and to compare how differently it has turned out with AuntGeoffrey and with her, after they had been young and happy together. Yes, no doubt it was he who persuaded the people at Knight Sutton intoletting them marry!"

"And their sorrow that she spoke of must have been his death, " saidHenrietta. "No doubt the going over those old times renewed all thosethoughts. "

"And you think going to Knight Sutton might have the same effect. Well, I suppose we must give it up, " said Fred, with a sigh. "After all, wecan be very happy here!"

"O yes! that we can. It is more on your account than mine, that I wishedit, " said the sister. 

"And I should not have thought so much of it, if I had not thought itwould be pleasanter for you when I am away, " said Fred. 

"And so, " said Henrietta, laughing yet sighing, "we agree to persuadeeach other that we don't care about it. "

Fred performed a grimace, and remarked that if Henrietta continued tomake her tea so scalding, there would soon be a verdict against herof fratricide; but the observation, being intended to conceal certainfeelings of disappointment and heroism, only led to silence. 

After sleeping for some hours, Mrs. Langford awoke refreshed, and gotup, but did not leave her room. Frederick and Henrietta went to take awalk by her desire, as she declared that she preferred being alone, andon their return they found her lying on the sofa. 

"Mamma has been in mischief, " said Fred. "She did not think herselfknocked up enough already, so she has been doing it more thoroughly. "

"Oh, mamma!" was Henrietta's reproachful exclamation, as she looked ather pale face and red swollen eyelids. 

"Never mind, my dears, " said she, trying to smile, "I shall be betternow this is done, and I have it off my mind. " They looked at her inanxious interrogation, and she smiled outright with lip and eye. "Youwill seal that letter with a good will, Henrietta, " she said. "It is toask Uncle Geoffrey to make inquiries about the Pleasance. "

"Mamma!" and they stood transfixed at a decision beyond their hopes:then Henrietta exclaimed--

"No, no, mamma, it will be too much for you; you must not think of it. "

"Yes, " said Fred; "indeed we agreed this morning that it would bebetter not. Put it out of your head, mamma, and go on here in peace andcomfort. I am sure it suits you best. "

"Thank you, thank you, my dear ones, " said she, drawing them towardsher, and fondly kissing them, "but it is all settled, and I am sure itis better for you. It is but a dull life for you here. "

"O no, no, no, dearest mamma: nothing can be dull with you, " criedHenrietta, wishing most sincerely to undo her own work. "We are, indeedwe are, as happy as the day is long. Do not fancy we are discontented;do not think we want a change. "

Mrs. Langford replied by an arch though subdued smile. 

"But we would not have you to do it on our account, " said Fred. "Prayput it out of your head, for we do very well here, and it was only apassing fancy. "

"You will not talk me out of it, my dears, " said Mrs. Langford. "I knowit is right, and it shall be done. It is only the making up my mind thatwas the struggle, and I shall look forward to it as much as either ofyou, when I know it is to be done. Now walk off, my dears, and do notlet that letter be too late for the post. "

"I do not half like it, " said Fred, pausing at the door. 

"I have not many fears on that score, " said she, smiling. "No, do notbe uneasy about me, my dear Fred, it is my proper place, and I must behappy there. I shall like to be near the Hall, and to see all the dearold places again. "

"O, mamma, you cannot talk about them without your voice quivering, "said Henrietta. "You do not know how I wish you would give it up!"

"Give it up! I would not for millions, " said Mrs. Langford. "Now go, mydears, and perhaps I shall go to sleep again. "

The spirits of the brother and sister did not just at first rise enoughfor rejoicing over the decision. Henrietta would willingly have keptback the letter, but this she could not do; and sealing it as ifshe were doing wrong, she sat down to dinner, feeling subdued andremorseful, something like a tyrant between the condemnation andexecution of his victim. But by the time the first course was over, andshe and Frederick had begun to recollect their long-cherished wishes, they made up their minds to be happy, and fell into their usual strainof admiration of the unknown haven of their hopes, and of expectationsthat it would in the end benefit their mother. 

The next morning she was quite in her usual spirits, and affairsproceeded in the usual manner; Frederick's holidays came to an end, andhe returned to school with many a fond lamentation from the mother andsister, but with cheerful auguries from both that the next meeting mightbe at Knight Sutton. 

"Here, Henrietta, " said her mother, as they sat at breakfast together aday or two after Frederick's departure, turning over to her the letterof which she had first broken the seal, while she proceeded to open someothers. It was Uncle Geoffrey's writing, and Henrietta read eagerly:

"MY DEAR MARY, --I would not write till I could give you some positiveinformation about the Pleasance, and that could not be done without aconference with Hardy, who was not at home. I am heartily glad that youthink of coming among us again, but still I should like to feel certainthat it is you that feel equal to it, and not the young ones who are setupon the plan. I suppose you will indignantly refute the charge, but youknow I have never trusted you in that matter. However, we are too muchthe gainers to investigate motives closely, and I cannot but believethat the effort once over, you would find it a great comfort to be amongyour own people, and in your own country. I fully agree with you also inwhat you say of the advantage to Henrietta and Fred. My father is goingto write, and I must leave him to do justice to his own cordiality, andproceed to business. "

Then came the particulars of freehold and copyhold, purchase or lease, repair or disrepair, of which Henrietta knew nothing, and cared less;she knew that her mamma was considered a great heiress, and trusted toher wealth for putting all she pleased in her power: but it was ratheralarming to recollect that Uncle Geoffrey would consider it right tomake the best terms he could, and that the house might be lost to themwhile they were bargaining for it. 

"O, mamma, never mind what he says about its being dear, " said she, "Idare say it will not ruin us. "

"Not exactly, " said Mrs. Langford, smiling, "but gentlemen consider it adisgrace not to make a good bargain, and Uncle Geoffrey must be allowedto have his own way. "

"O but, mamma, suppose some one else should take it. "

"A village house is not like these summer lodgings, which are snapped upbefore you can look at them, " said Mrs. Langford; "I have no fears butthat it is to be had. " But Henrietta could not help fancying that hermother would regard it somewhat as a reprieve, if the bargain was to gooff independently of any determination of hers. 

Still she had made up her mind to look cheerfully at the scheme, andoften talked of it with pleasure, to which the cordial and affectionateletters of her father-in-law and the rest of the family, conduced not alittle. She now fully perceived that it had only been from forbearance, that they had not before urged her return, and as she saw how earnestlyit was desired by Mr. And Mrs. Langford, reproached herself as fora weakness for not having sooner resolved upon her present step. Henrietta's work was rather to keep up her spirits at the prospect, than to prevent her from changing her purpose, which never altered, respecting a return to the neighbourhood of Knight Sutton, thoughwhether to the house of the tempting name, was a question which remainedin agitation during the rest of the autumn, for as surely as Rome wasnot built in a day, so surely cannot a house be bought or sold in a day, especially when a clever and cautious lawyer acts for one party. 

Matters thus dragged on, till the space before the Christmas holidayswas reckoned by weeks, instead of months, and as Mrs. Frederick Langfordlaughingly said, she should be fairly ashamed to meet her boy again attheir present home. She therefore easily allowed herself to be persuadedto accept Mr. Langford's invitation to take up her quarters at the Hall, and look about her a little before finally deciding upon the Pleasance. Christmas at Knight Sutton Hall had the greatest charms in the eyesof Henrietta and Frederick; for many a time had they listened to thedescriptions given con amore by Beatrice Langford, to whom that placehad ever been a home, perhaps the more beloved, because the other halfof her life was spent in London. 

It was a great disappointment, however, to hear that Mrs. GeoffreyLangford was likely to be detained in London by the state of health ofher aunt, Lady Susan St. Leger, whom she did not like to leave, while noother of the family was at hand. This was a cruel stroke, but she couldnot bear that her husband should miss his yearly holiday, her daughterlose the pleasure of a fortnight with Henrietta, or Mr. And Mrs. Langford be deprived of the visit of their favourite son: and shetherefore arranged to go and stay with Lady Susan, while Beatrice andher father went as usual to Knight Sutton. 

Mr. Geoffrey Langford offered to escort his sister-in-law fromDevonshire, but she did not like his holidays to be so wasted. She hadno merely personal apprehensions, and new as railroads were to her, declared herself perfectly willing and able to manage with no companionsbut her daughter and maid, with whom she was to travel to his housein London, there to be met in a day or two by the two school-boys, Frederick and his cousin Alexander, and then proceed all together toKnight Sutton. 

Henrietta could scarcely believe that the long-wished-for time wasreally come, packing up actually commencing, and that her waking wouldfind her under a different roof from that which she had never left. Shedid not know till now that she had any attachments to the place shehad hitherto believed utterly devoid of all interest; but she found shecould not bid it farewell without sorrow. There was the old boatman withhis rough kindly courtesy, and his droll ways of speaking; there was therocky beach where she and her brother had often played on the verge ofthe ocean, watching with mysterious awe or sportive delight the rippleof the advancing waves, the glorious sea itself, the walks, the woods, streams, and rocks, which she now believed, as mamma and Uncle Geoffreyhad often told her, were more beautiful than anything she was likely tofind in Sussex. Other scenes there were, connected with her grandmother, which she grieved much at parting with, but she shunned talking over herregrets, lest she should agitate her mother, whom she watched with greatanxiety. 

She was glad that so much business was on her hands, as to leave littletime for dwelling on her feelings, to which she attributed thecalm quietness with which she went through the few trying days thatimmediately preceded their departure. Henrietta felt this constantemployment so great a relief to her own spirits, that she was sorry onher own account, as well as her mother's, when every possible order hadbeen given, every box packed, and nothing was to be done, but to sitopposite to each other, on each side of the fire, in the idleness whichprecedes candle-light. Her mother leant back in silence, and she watchedher with an anxious gaze. She feared to say anything of sympathywith what she supposed her feeling, lest she should make her weep. Anindifferent speech would be out of place even if Henrietta herself couldhave made it, and yet to remain silent was to allow melancholy thoughtsto prey upon her. So thought the daughter, longing at the same time thather persuasions were all unsaid. 

"Come here, my dear child, " said her mother presently, and Henriettaalmost started at the calmness of the voice, and the serenity of thetranquil countenance. She crossed to her mother, and sat down on alow footstool, leaning against her. "You are very much afraid for me, "continued Mrs. Langford, as she remarked upon the anxious expression ofher face, far different from her own, "but you need not fear, it is allwell with me; it would be wrong not to be thankful for those who are notreally lost to me as well as for those who were given to me here. "

All Henrietta's consideration for her mother could not prevent her frombursting into tears. "O mamma, I did not know it would be so like goingaway from dear grandmamma. "

"Try to feel the truth, my dear, that our being near to her depends onwhether we are in our duty or not. "

"Yes, yes, but this place is so full of her! I do so love it! I did notknow it till now!"

"Yes, we must always love it, my dear child; but we are going to ourhome, Henrietta, to your father's home in life and death, and it must begood for us to be there. With your grandfather, who has wished for us. Knight Sutton is our true home, the one where it is right for us to be. "

Henrietta still wept bitterly, and strange it was that it should be shewho stood in need of consolation, for the fulfilment of her own mostardent wish, and from the very person to whom it was the greatest trial. It was not, however, self-reproach that caused her tears, that hermother's calmness prevented her from feeling, but only attachment to theplace she was about to leave, and the recollections, which she accusedherself of having slighted. Her mother, who had made up her mind to dowhat was right, found strength and peace at the moment of trial, whenthe wayward and untrained spirits of the daughter gave way. Not that sheblamed Henrietta, she was rather gratified to find that she was so muchattached to her home and her grandmother, and felt so much with her; andafter she had succeeded in some degree in restoring her to composure, they talked long and earnestly over old times and deeper feelings. 

CHAPTER IV. 

The journey to London was prosperously performed, and Mrs. FrederickLangford was not overfatigued when she arrived at Uncle Geoffrey's houseat Westminster. The cordiality of their greeting may be imagined, as avisit from Henrietta had been one of the favourite visions of her cousinBeatrice, through her whole life; and the two girls were soon deep inthe delights of a conversation in which sense and nonsense had an equalshare. 

The next day was spent by the two Mrs. Langfords in quiet together, while Henrietta was conducted through a rapid whirl of sight-seeing byBeatrice and Uncle Geoffrey, the latter of whom, to his niece's greatamazement, professed to find almost as much novelty in the sights as shedid. A short December day, though not what they would have chosen, hadthis advantage, that the victim could not be as completely fagged andworn out as in a summer's day, and Henrietta was still fresh and in highspirits when they drove home and found to their delight that the twoschoolboys had already arrived. 

Beatrice met both alike as old friends and almost brothers, butAlexander, though returning her greeting with equal cordiality, lookedshyly at the new aunt and cousin, and as Henrietta suspected, wishedthem elsewhere. She had heard much of him from Beatrice, and knew thather brother regarded him as a formidable rival; and she was thereforesurprised to see that his broad honest face expressed more goodhumour than intellect, and his manners wanted polish. He was tolerablywell-featured, with light eyes and dark hair, and though half a yearolder than his cousin, was much shorter, more perhaps in appearance thanreality, from the breadth and squareness of his shoulders, and from notcarrying himself well. 

Alexander was, as ought previously to have been recorded, the third sonof Mr. Roger Langford, the heir of Knight Sutton, at present living atSutton Leigh, a small house on his father's estate, busied with farming, sporting, and parish business; while his active wife contrived to makea narrow income feed, clothe, and at least half educate their endlesstribe of boys. Roger, the eldest, was at sea; Frederick, the second, inIndia; and Alexander owed his more learned education to Uncle Geoffrey, who had been well recompensed by his industry and good conduct. Indeedhis attainments had always been so superior to those of his brothers, that he might have been considered as a prodigy, had not his cousinFrederick been always one step before him. 

Fred had greater talent, and had been much better taught at home, sothat on first going to school, he took and kept the higher place; butthis was but a small advantage in his eyes, compared with what he had toendure out of school during his first half-year. Unused to any trainingor companionship save of womankind, he was disconsolate, bewildered, derided in that new rude world; while Alex, accustomed to fight hisway among rude brothers, instantly found his level, and even extendeda protecting hand to his cousin, who requited it with little gratitude. Soon overcoming his effeminate habits, he grew expert and dexterous, and was equal to Alex in all but main bodily strength; but the spiritof rivalry once excited, had never died away, and with a real friendshipand esteem for each other, their names or rather their nicknames hadalmost become party words among their schoolfellows. 

Nor was it probable that this competition would be forgotten on thisfirst occasion of spending their holidays together. Fred felt himselfopen to that most galling accusation of want of manliness, on accountat once of his ignorance of country sports, and of his knowledgeof accomplishments; but he did not guess at the feeling which madeAlexander on his side regard those very accomplishments with a feelingwhich, if it were not jealousy, was at least very nearly akin to it. 

Beatrice Langford had not the slightest claim to beauty. She was verylittle, and so thin that her papa did her no injustice when he calledher skin and bones; but her thin brown face, with the aid of a pairof very large deep Italian-looking eyes, was so full of brilliantexpression, and showed such changes of feeling from sad to gay, fromsublime to ridiculous, that no one could have wished one featureotherwise. And if instead of being "like the diamond bright, " they hadbeen "dull as lead, " it would have been little matter to Alex. Beatricehad been, she was still, his friend, his own cousin, more than what hecould believe a sister to be if he had one, --in short his own littleQueen Bee. He had had a monopoly of her; she had trained him in allthe civilization which he possessed, and it was with considerablemortification that he thought himself lowered in her eyes by comparisonwith his old rival, as old a friend of hers, with the same claim tocousinly affection; and instead of understanding only what she hadtaught him, familiar with the tastes and pursuits on which she setperhaps too great a value. 

Fred did not care nearly as much for Beatrice's preference: it might bethat he took it as a matter of course, or perhaps that having a sisterof his own, he did not need her sympathy, but still it was a point onwhich he was likely to be sensitive, and thus her favour was likelyto be secretly quite as much a matter of competition as their schoolstudies and pastimes. 

For instance, dinner was over, and Henrietta was admiring some choicebooks of prints, such luxuries as Uncle Geoffrey now afforded himself, and which his wife and daughter greatly preferred to the more costlystyle of living which some people thought befitted them. She called toher brother who was standing by the fire, "Fred, do come and look atthis beautiful Albert Durer of Sintram. "

He hesitated, doubting whether Alexander would scorn him for anacquaintance with Albert Durer, but Beatrice added, "Yes, it was anold promise that I would show it to you. There now, look, admire, or bepronounced insensible. "

"A wonderful old fellow was that Albert, " said Fred, looking, andforgetting his foolish false shame in the pleasure of admiration. "Yes;O how wondrously the expression on Death's face changes as it does inthe story! How easy it is to see how Fouque must have built it up! Haveyou seen it, mamma?"

His mother came to admire. Another print was produced, and another, andFred and Beatrice were eagerly studying the elaborate engravings of theold German, when Alex, annoyed at finding her too much engrossed to havea word for him, came to share their occupation, and took up one ofthe prints with no practised hand. "Take care, Alex, take care, " criedBeatrice, in a sort of excruciated tone; "don't you see what a pinch youare giving it! Only the initiated ought to handle a print: there is apattern for you, " pointing to Fred. 

She cut right and left: both looked annoyed, and retreated from thetable. Fred thinking how Alex must look down on fingers which possessedany tenderness; Alex provoked at once and pained. Queen Bee's black eyesperceived their power, and gave a flash of laughing triumph. 

But Beatrice was not quite in her usual high spirits, for she was verysorry to leave her mother; and when they went up stairs for the night, she stood long over the fire talking to her, and listening to certainparting cautions. 

"How I wish you could have come, mamma! I am so sure that grandmamma inher kindness will tease Aunt Mary to death. You are the only person whocan guard her without affronting grandmamma. Now I--"

"Had better let it alone, " rejoined Mrs. Geoffrey Langford. "You will domore harm than by letting things take their course. Remember, too, thatAunt Mary was at home there long before you or I knew the place. "

"Oh, if that tiresome Aunt Amelia would but have had some consideration!To go out of town and leave Aunt Susan on our hands just when we alwaysgo home!"

"We have lamented that often enough, " said her mother smiling. "It isunlucky, but it cannot be too often repeated, that wills and wishes mustsometimes bend. "

"You say that for me, mamma, " said Beatrice. "You think grandmamma and Ihave too much will for each other. "

"If you are conscious of that, Bee, I hope that you will bend thatwilful will of yours. "

"I hope I shall, " said Beatrice, "but. . . . Well, I must go to bed. Goodnight, mamma. "

And Mrs. Geoffrey Langford looked after her daughter anxiously, but shewell knew that Beatrice knew her besetting fault, and she trusted to themany fervent resolutions she had made against it. 

The next morning the party bade adieu to Mrs. Geoffrey Langford, andset out on their journey to Knight Sutton. They filled a whole railroadcarriage, and were a very cheerful party. Alexander and Beatricesat opposite to each other, talking over Knight Sutton delights withanimation, Beatrice ever and anon turning to her other cousins withexplanations, or referring to her papa, who was reading the newspaperand talking with Mrs. Frederick Langford. 

The day was not long enough for all the talk of the cousins, and theearly winter twilight came on before their conversation was exhausted, or they had reached the Allonfield station. 

"Here we are!" exclaimed Beatrice, as the train stopped, and at the samemoment a loud voice called out, "All right! where are you, Alex?" uponwhich Alexander tumbled across Henrietta to feel for the handle of thecarriage-door, replying, "Here, old fellow, let us out. Have you broughtDumpling?" And Uncle Geoffrey and Beatrice exclaimed, "How d'ye do, Carey?"

When Alexander had succeeded in making his exit, Henrietta beheld himshaking hands with a figure not quite his own height, and in its roughgreat-coat not unlike a small species of bear. Uncle Geoffrey and Fredhanded out the ladies, and sought their appurtenances in the dark, andHenrietta began to give Alex credit for a portion of that which makethman, when he shoved his brother, admonishing him that there was AuntMary, upon which Carey advanced, much encumbered with sheepish shyness, presented a great rough driving-glove, and shortly and bluntly repliedto the soft tones which kindly greeted him, and inquired for all athome. 

"Is the Hall carriage come?" asked Alex, and, receiving a gruffaffirmative, added, "then, Aunt Mary, you had better come to it whileUncle Geoffrey looks after the luggage, " offered his arm with tolerablecourtesy, and conducted her to the carriage. "There, " said he, "Careyhas driven in our gig, and I suppose Fred and I had better go back withhim. "

"Is the horse steady?" asked his aunt, anxiously. 

"Dumple? To be sure! Never does wrong! do you, old fellow?" said Alex, patting his old friend. 

"And no lamps?"

"O, we know the way blindfold, and you might cross Sutton Heath a dozentimes without meeting anything but a wheelbarrow-full of peat. "

"And how is the road now? It used to be very bad in my time. "

"Lots of ruts, " muttered Carey to his brother, who interpreted it, "Afew ruts this winter, but Dumpling knows all the bad places. "

By this time Uncle Geoffrey came up, and instantly perceiving the stateof things, said, "I say, Freddy, do you mind changing places with me? Ishould like to have a peep at Uncle Roger before going up to the house, and then Dumpling's feelings won't be hurt by passing the turn to SuttonLeigh. "

Fred could not object, and his mother rejoiced in the belief that UncleGeoffrey would take the reins, nor did Beatrice undeceive her, though, as the vehicle rattled past the carriage at full speed, she sawAlexander's own flourish of the whip, and knew that her papa was lettingthe boys have their own way. She had been rather depressed in themorning on leaving her mother, but as she came nearer home her spiritsmounted, and she was almost wild with glee. "Aunt Mary, do you knowwhere you are?"

"On Sutton Heath, I presume, from the absence of landmarks. "

"Yes, that we are. You dear old place, how d'ye do? You beginning ofhome! I don't know when it is best coming to you: on a summer's evening, all glowing with purple heath, or a frosty star-light night like this. There is the Sutton Leigh turn! Hurrah! only a mile further to thegate. "

"Where I used to go to meet the boys coming home from school, " saidher aunt, in a low tone of deep feeling. But she would not sadden theirblithe young hearts, and added cheerfully, "Just the same as ever, Isee: how well I know the outline of the bank there!"

"Ay, it is your fatherland, too, Aunt Mary! Is there not somethinginspiring in the very air? Come, Fred, can't you get up a littleenthusiasm?"

"Oceans, without getting it up, " replied Fred. "I never was morerejoiced in my whole life, " and he began to hum Domum. 

"Sing it, sing it; let us join in chorus as homage to Knight Sutton, "cried Henrietta. 

And the voices began, "Domum, Domum, dulce Domum;" even Aunt Maryherself caught the feelings of her young companions, felt herself comingto her own beloved home and parents, half forgot how changed was hersituation, and threw herself into the delight of returning. 

"Now, Fred, " said Henrietta, "let us try those verses that you found atune for, that begin 'What is home?'"

This also was sung, and by the time it was finished they had reached agate leading into a long drive through dark beech woods. "This is thebeautiful wood of which I have often told you, Henrietta, " said Mrs. Frederick Langford. 

"The wood with glades like cathedral aisles, " said Henrietta. "O, howdelightful it will be to see it come out in leaf!"

"Which I have never seen, " said Beatrice. "I tell papa he has made hisfortune, and ought to retire, and he says he is too young for it. "

"In which I fully agree with him, " said her aunt. "I should not like tosee him with nothing to do. "

"O, mamma, Uncle Geoffrey would never be anywhere with nothing to do, "said Henrietta. 

"No, " said her mother, "but people are always happier with work made forthem, than with what they make for themselves. Besides, Uncle Geoffreyhas too much talent to be spared. "

"Ay, " said Fred, "I wondered to hear you so devoid of ambition, littleBusy Bee. "

"It is only Knight Sutton and thinking of May flowers that makes me so, "said Beatrice. "I believe after all, I should break my heart if papa didretire without--"

"Without what, Bee?"

"Being Lord Chancellor, I suppose, " said Henrietta very seriously. "I amsure I should. "

"His being in Parliament will content me for the present, " saidBeatrice, "for I have been told too often that high principles don'trise in the world, to expect any more. We can be just as proud of him asif he was. "

"You are in a wondrously humble and philosophic mood, Queen Bee, " saidHenrietta; "but where are we now?" added she, as a gate swung back. 

"Coming into the paddock, " said Beatrice; "don't you see the lights inthe house? There, that is the drawing-room window to the right, and thatlarge one the great hall window. Then upstairs, don't you see that redfire-light? That is the south room, which Aunt Mary will be sure tohave. "

Henrietta did not answer, for there was something that subdued her inthe nervous pressure of her mother's hand. The carriage stopped at thedoor, whence streamed forth light, dazzling to eyes long accustomed todarkness; but in the midst stood a figure which Henrietta could not buthave recognized in an instant, even had not old Mr. Langford paid morethan one visit to Rocksand. Tall, thin, unbent, with high bald forehead, clear eye, and long snowy hair; there he was, lifting rather thanhanding his daughter-in-law from the carriage, and fondly kissing herbrow; then he hastily greeted the other occupants of the carriage, whileshe received the kiss of Mrs. Langford. 

They were now in the hall, and turning again to his daughter-in-law, hegave her his arm, and led her into the drawing-room, where he once moreembraced her, saying, "Bless you, my own dear Mary!" She clung to himfor a moment as if she longed to weep with him, but recovering herselfin an instant, she gave her attention to Mrs. Langford, who was tryingto administer to her comfort with a degree of bustle and activity whichsuited well with the alertness of her small figure and the vivacity ofthe black eyes which still preserved their brightness, though her hairwas perfectly white. "Well, Mary, my dear, I hope you are not tired. Youhad better sit down and take off your furs, or will you go to your room?But where is Geoffrey?"

"He went with Alex and Carey, round by Sutton Leigh, " said Beatrice. 

"Ha! ha! my little Queen, are you there?" said grandpapa, holding outhis arms to her. "And, " added he, "is not this your first introductionto the twins, grandmamma? Why you are grown as fine a pair as I wouldwish to see on a summer's day. Last time I saw you I could hardly tellyou apart, when you both wore straw hats and white trousers. No mistakenow though. Well, I am right glad to have you here. "

"Won't you take off some of your wraps, Mary?" proceeded Mrs. Langford, and her daughter-in-law, with a soft "Thank you, " passively obeyed. "Andyou too, my dear, " she added to Henrietta. 

"Off with that bonnet, Miss Henrietta, " proceeded grandpapa. "Let mesee whether you are as like your brother as ever. He has your own face, Mary. "

"Do not you think his forehead like--" and she looked to the end ofthe room where hung the portraits of two young children, the brothersGeoffrey and Frederick. Henrietta had often longed to see it, but nowshe could attend to nothing but her mamma. 

"Like poor dear Frederick?" said grandmamma. "Well, I can't judge byfirelight, you know, my dear, but I should say they were both your veryimage. "

"You can't be the image of any one I should like better, " said Mr. Langford, turning to them cheerfully, and taking Henrietta's hand. "Iwish nothing better than to find you the image of your mamma inside andout. "

"Ah, there's Geoffrey!" cried Mrs. Langford, springing up and almostrunning to meet him. 

"Well, Geoffrey, how d'ye do?" added his father with an indescribabletone and look of heartfelt delight. "Left all your cares behind you?"

"Left my wife behind me, " said Uncle Geoffrey, making a rueful face. 

"Ay, it is a sad business that poor Beatrice cannot come, " said both theold people, "but how is poor Lady Susan?"

"As usual, only too nervous to be left with none of the family at hand. Well, Mary, you look tired. "

Overcome, Uncle Geoffrey would have said, but he thought the otheraccusation would answer the same purpose and attract less attention, and it succeeded, for Mrs. Langford proposed to take her up stairs. Henrietta thought that Beatrice would have offered to save her thetrouble, but this would not have been at all according to the habits ofgrandmamma or granddaughter, and Mrs. Langford briskly led the way toa large cheerful-looking room, talking all the time and saying shesupposed Henrietta would like to be with her mamma. She nodded to theirmaid, who was waiting there, and gave her a kindly greeting, stirred thealready bright fire into a blaze, and returning to her daughter-in-lawwho was standing like one in a dream, she gave her a fond kiss, saying, "There, Mary, I thought you would like to be here. "

"Thank you, thank you, you are always kind. "

"There now, Mary, don't let yourself be overcome. You would notbring him back again, I know. Come, lie down and rest. There--that isright--and don't think of coming down stairs. You think your mamma hadbetter not, don't you?"

"Much better not, thank you, grandmamma, " said Henrietta, as sheassisted in settling her mother on the sofa. "She is tired and overcomenow, but she will be herself after a rest. "

"And ask for anything you like, my dear. A glass of wine or a cup ofcoffee; Judith will get you one in a moment. Won't you have a cup ofcoffee, Mary, my dear?"

"Thank you, no thank you, " said Mrs. Frederick Langford, raisingherself. "Indeed I am sorry--it is very foolish. " Here the choking sobcame again, and she was forced to lie down. Grandmamma stood by, warminga shawl to throw over her, and pitying her in audible whispers. "Poorthing, poor thing! it is very sad for her. There! a pillow, my dear?I'll fetch one out of my room. No? Is her head high enough? Somesal-volatile? Yes, Mary, would you not like some sal-volatile?"

And away she went in search of it, while Henrietta, excessivelydistressed, knelt by her mother, who, throwing her arms round her neck, wept freely for some moments, then laid her head on the cushions again, saying, "I did not think I was so weak!"

"Dearest mamma, " said Henrietta, kissing her and feeling very guilty. 

"If I have not distressed grandmamma!" said her mother anxiously. "No, never mind me, my dear, it was fatigue and--"

Still she could not finish, so painfully did the familiar voices, theunchanged furniture, recall both her happy childhood and the bridal dayswhen she had last entered the house, that it seemed as it were a newthing, a fresh shock to miss the tone that was never to be heard thereagain. Why should all around be the same, when all within was altered?But it had been only the first few moments that had overwhelmed her, andthe sound of Mrs. Langford's returning footsteps recalled her habit ofself-control; she thanked her, held out her quivering hand, drank thesal-volatile, pronounced herself much better, and asked pardon forhaving given so much trouble. 

"Trouble? my dear child, no such thing! I only wish I could see youbetter. No doubt it is too much for you, this coming home the firsttime; but then you know poor Fred is gone to a better--Ah! well, I seeyou can't bear to speak of him, and perhaps after all quiet is the bestthing. Don't let your mamma think of dressing and coming down, my dear. "

There was a little combat on this point, but it ended in Mrs. FrederickLangford yielding, and agreeing to remain upstairs. Grandmamma wouldhave waited to propose to her each of the dishes that were to appearat table, and hear which she thought would suit her taste; but veryfortunately, as Henrietta thought, a bell rang at that moment, which shepronounced to be "the half-hour bell, " and she hastened away, tellingher granddaughter that dinner would be ready at half-past five, andcalling the maid outside the door to giver her full directions where toprocure anything that her mistress might want. 

"Dear grandmamma! just like herself!" said Mrs. Frederick Langford. "ButHenrietta, my dear, " she added with some alarm, "make haste and dress:you must never be too late in this house!"

Henrietta was not much accustomed to dress to a moment, and she was tooanxious about her mamma to make speed with her whole will, and her hairwas in no state of forwardness when the dinner-bell rang, causing hermamma to start and hasten her with an eager, almost alarmed manner. "Youdon't know how your grandmamma dislikes being kept waiting, " said she. 

At last she was ready, and running down, found all the rest assembled, evidently waiting for her. Frederick, looking anxious, met her at thedoor to receive her assurances that their mother was better; the restinquired, and her apologies were cut short by grandmamma calling themto eat her turkey before it grew cold. The spirits of all the party wereperhaps damped by Mrs. Frederick Langford's absence and its cause, forthe dinner was not a very lively one, nor the conversation very amusingto Henrietta and Frederick, as it was chiefly on the news of the countryneighbourhood, in which Uncle Geoffrey showed much interest. 

As soon as she was released from the dining-room, Henrietta ran up toher mamma, whom she found refreshed and composed. "But, O mamma, isthis a good thing for you?" said Henrietta, looking at the red casecontaining her father's miniature, which had evidently been only justclosed on her entrance. 

"The very best thing for me, dearest, " was the answer, now given in herown calm tones. "It does truly make me happier than anything else. No, don't look doubtful, my Henrietta; if it were repining it might hurt me, but I trust it is not. "

"And does this really comfort you, mamma?" said Henrietta, as shepressed the spring, and gazed thoughtfully on the portrait. "O, I cannotfancy that! the more I think, the more I try to realize what it mighthave been, think what Uncle Geoffrey is to Beatrice, till sometimes, Omamma, I feel quite rebellious!"

"You will be better disciplined in time, my poor child, " said hermother, sadly. "As your grandmamma said, who could be so selfish as towish him here?"

"And can you bear to say so, mamma?"

She clasped her hands and looked up, and Henrietta feared she hadgone too far. Both were silent for some little time, until at last thedaughter timidly asked, "And was this your old room, mamma?"

"Yes: look in that shelf in the corner; there are all our old childishbooks. Bring that one, " she added, as Henrietta took one out, andopening it, she showed in the fly-leaf the well-written "F. H. Langford, "with the giver's name; and below in round hand, scrawled all over thepage, "Mary Vivian, the gift of her cousin Fred. " "I believe that youmay find that in almost all of them, " said she. "I am glad they havebeen spared from the children at Sutton Leigh. Will you bring me a fewmore to look over, before you go down again to grandmamma?"

Henrietta did not like to leave her, and lingered while she made aselection for her among the books, and from that fell into another talk, in which they were interrupted by a knock at the door, and the entranceof Mrs. Langford herself. She sat a little time, and asked of health, strength, and diet, until she bustled off again to see if there was agood fire in Geoffrey's room, telling Henrietta that tea would soon beready. 

Henrietta's ideas of grandmammas were formed on the placid Mrs. Vivian, naturally rather indolent, and latterly very infirm, althoughconsiderably younger than Mrs. Langford; and she stood looking after inspeechless amazement, her mamma laughing at her wonder. "But, my dearchild, " she said, "I beg you will go down. It will never do to have youstaying up here all the evening. "

Henrietta was really going this time, when as she opened the door, shewas stopped by a new visitor. This was an elderly respectable-lookingmaid-servant, old Judith, whose name was well known to her. She hadbeen nursery-maid at Knight Sutton at the time "Miss Mary" arrived fromIndia, and was now, what in a more modernized family would have beencalled ladies'-maid or housekeeper, but here was a nondescript office, if anything, upper housemaid. How she was loved and respected is knownto all who are happy enough to possess a "Judith. "

"I beg your pardon, miss, " said she, as Henrietta opened the door justbefore her, and Mrs. Frederick Langford, on hearing her voice, calledout, "O Judith! is that you? I was in hopes you were coming to see me. "

She advanced with a courtesy, at the same time affectionately taking thethin white hand stretched out to her. "I hope you are better, ma'am. Itis something like old times to have you here again. "

"Indeed I am very glad to be here, Judith, " was the answer, "and veryglad to see you looking like your own dear self. "

"Ah! Miss Mary; I beg your pardon, ma'am; I wish I could see you lookingbetter. "

"I shall, I hope, to-morrow, thank you, Judith. But you have not beenintroduced to Henrietta, there. "

"But I have often heard of you, Judith, " said Henrietta, cordiallyholding out her hand. Judith took it, and looked at her withaffectionate earnestness. "Sure enough, miss, " said she, "as Missussays, you are the very picture of your mamma when she went away; but Ithink I see a look of poor Master Frederick too. "

"Have you seen my brother, Judith?" asked Henrietta, fearing a seconddiscussion on likenesses. 

"Yes, Miss Henrietta; I was coming down from Missus's room, whenMr. Geoffrey stopped me to ask how I did, and he said 'Here's a newacquaintance for you, Judith, ' and there was Master Frederick. I shouldhave known him anywhere, and he spoke so cheerful and pleasant. A fineyoung gentleman he is, to be sure. "

"Why, we must be like your grandchildren!" said Henrietta; "but O! herecomes Fred. "

And Judith discreetly retreated as Fred entered bearing a summons tohis sister to come down to tea, saying that he could scarcely prevail ongrandmamma to let him take the message instead of coming herself. 

They found Queen Bee perched upon the arm of her grandpapa's chair, with one hand holding by his collar. She had been coaxing him to sayHenrietta was the prettiest girl he ever saw, and he was teasing herby declaring he should never see anything like Aunt Mary in her girlishdays. Then he called up Henrietta and Fred, and asked them about theirhome doings, showing so distinct a knowledge of them, that they laughedand stood amazed. "Ah, " said grandpapa, "you forgot that I had a QueenBee to enlighten me. We have plenty to tell each other, when we gobuzzing over the ploughed fields together on a sunny morning, haven'twe, Busy, Busy Bee?"

Here grandmamma summoned them all to tea. She liked every one to sitround the table, and put away work and book, as for a regular meal, andit was rather a long one. Then, when all was over, grandpapa called out, "Come, young ladies, I've been wearying for a tune these three months. Ihope you are not too tired to give us one. "

"O no, no, grandpapa!" cried Beatrice, "but you must hear Henrietta. Itis a great shame of her to play so much better than I do, with all myLondon masters too. "

And in music the greater part of the evening was passed away. Beatricecame to her aunt's room to wish her good-night, and to hearHenrietta's opinions, which were of great delight, and still greaterwonder--grandmamma so excessively kind, and grandpapa, O, he was agrandpapa to be proud of!

CHAPTER V. 

It was an agreeable surprise to Henrietta that her mother waked freefrom headache, very cheerful, and feeling quite able to get up tobreakfast. The room looked very bright and pleasant by the first morninglight that shone upon the intricate frost-work on the window; andHenrietta, as usual, was too much lost in gazing at the branches of theelms and the last year's rooks' nests, to make the most of her time;so that the bell for prayers rang long before she was ready. Her mammawould not leave her, and remained to help her. Just as they were goingdown at last, they met Mrs. Langford on her way up with inquiries forpoor Mary. She would have almost been better pleased with a slightindisposition than with dawdling; but she kindly accepted Henrietta'sapologies, and there was one exclamation of joy from all the assembledparty at Mrs. Frederick Langford's unhoped-for entrance. 

"Geoffrey, my dear, " began Mrs. Langford, as soon as the greetings andcongratulations were over, "will you see what is the matter with thelock of this tea-chest?--it has been out of order these three weeks, andI thought you could set it to rights. "

While Uncle Geoffrey was pronouncing on its complaints, Atkins, the oldservant, put in his head. 

"If you please, sir, Thomas Parker would be glad to speak to Mr. Geoffrey about his son on the railway. "

Away went Mr. Geoffrey to the lower regions, where Thomas Parker awaitedhim, and as soon as he returned was addressed by his father: "Geoffrey, I put those papers on the table in the study, if you will look over themwhen you have time, and tell me what you think of the turnpike trust. "

A few moments after the door was thrown wide open, and in burst threeboys, shouting with one voice--"Uncle Geoffrey, Uncle Geoffrey, you mustcome and see which of Vixen's puppies are to be saved!"

"Hush, hush, you rogues, hush!" was Uncle Geoffrey's answer; "don't youknow that you are come into civilized society? Aunt Mary never saw suchwild men of the woods. "

"All crazy at the sight of Uncle Geoffrey, " said grandmamma. "Ah, hespoils you all! but, come here, Johnny, come and speak to your aunt. There, this is Johnny, and here are Richard and Willie, " she added, asthey came up and awkwardly gave their hands to their aunt and cousins. 

Henrietta was almost bewildered by seeing so many likenesses ofAlexander. "How shall I ever know them apart?" said she to Beatrice. 

"Like grandmamma's nest of teacups, all alike, only each one size belowanother, " said Beatrice. "However, I don't require you to learn them allat once; only to know Alex and Willie from the rest. Here, Willie, haveyou nothing to say to me? How are the rabbits?"

Willie, a nice-looking boy of nine or ten years old, of rather slightermake than his brothers, and with darker eyes and hair, came to QueenBee's side, as if he was very glad to see her, and only slightlydiscomposed by Henrietta's neighbourhood. 

John gave the information that papa and Alex were only just behind, andin another minute they made their appearance. "Good morning sir; goodmorning, ma'am, " were Uncle Roger's greetings, as he came in. "Ah, Mary, how d'ye do? glad to see you here at last; hope you are better. ---Ah, good morning, good morning, " as he quickly shook hands with the youngerones. "Good morning, Geoffrey; I told Martin to take the new drill intothe outfield, for I want your opinion whether it is worth keeping. "

And thereupon the three gentlemen began a learned discussion on drills, during which Henrietta studied her uncle. She was at first surprised tosee him look so young--younger, she thought, than Uncle Geoffrey; butin a moment or two she changed her mind, for though mental labour hadthinned and grizzled Uncle Geoffrey's hair, paled his cheek, and tracedlines of thought on his broad high brow, it had not quenched the lightthat beamed in his eyes, nor subdued the joyous merriment that oftenplayed over his countenance, according with the slender active figurethat might have belonged to a mere boy. Uncle Roger was taller, andmuch more robust and broad; his hair still untouched with grey, his faceruddy brown, and his features full of good nature, but rather heavy. Inhis plaid shooting coat and high gaiters, as he stood by the fire, helooked the model of a country squire; but there was an indescribablefamily likeness, and something of the same form about the nose andlip, which recalled to Henrietta the face she loved so well in UncleGeoffrey. 

The drill discussion was not concluded when Mrs. Langford gave thesignal for the ladies to leave the breakfast table. Henrietta ran upstairs for her mother's work, and came down again laughing. "I am sure, Queenie, " said she, "that your papa chose his trade rightly. He maywell be called a great counsel. Besides all the opinions asked of him atbreakfast, I have just come across a consultation on the stairs betweenhim and Judith about--what was it?--some money in a savings' bank. "

"Yes, " said Beatrice, "Judith has saved a sum that is wondrous in thesedegenerate days of maids in silk gowns, and she is wise enough to give'Master Geoffrey' all the management of it. But if you are surprisednow, what will you be by the end of the day? See if his advice is notasked in at least fifty matters. "

"I'll count, " said Henrietta: "what have we had already?" and she tookout pencil and paper--"Number one, the tea-chest; then the poor man, andthe turnpike trust--"

"Vixen's puppies and the drill, " suggested her mamma. 

"And Judith's money, " added Henrietta. "Six already--"

"To say nothing of all that will come by the post, and we shall not hearof, " said Beatrice; "and look here, what I am going to seal for him, one, two, three--eight letters. "

"Why! when could he possibly have written them?"

"Last night after we were gone to bed. It shows how much more grandmammawill let him do than any one else, that she can allow him to sit upwith a candle after eleven o'clock. I really believe that there is notanother living creature in the world who could do it in this house. There, you may add your own affairs to the list, Henrietta, for he isgoing to the Pleasance to meet some man of brick and mortar. "

"O, I wish we could walk there!"

"I dare say we can. I'll manage. Aunt Mary, should you not likeHenrietta to go and see the Pleasance?"

"Almost as much as Henrietta would like it herself, Busy Bee, " said AuntMary; "but I think she should walk to Sutton Leigh to-day. "

"Walk to Sutton Leigh!" echoed old Mrs. Langford, entering at themoment; "not you, surely, Mary?"

"O no, no, grandmamma, " said Beatrice, laughing; "she was only talkingof Henrietta's doing it. "

"Well, and so do, my dears; it will be a very nice thing, if you go thismorning before the frost goes off. Your Aunt Roger will like to see you, and you may take the little pot of black currant jelly that I wanted tosend over for poor Tom's sore mouth. "

Beatrice looked at Henrietta and made a face of disgust as she asked, "Have they no currant jelly themselves?"

"O no, they never can keep anything in the garden. I don't mean that theboys take the fruit; but between tarts and puddings and desserts, poorElizabeth can never make any preserves. "

"But, " objected Queen Bee, "if one of the children is ill, do you thinkAunt Roger will like to have us this morning? and the post girl couldtake the jelly. "

"O nonsense, Bee, " said Mrs. Langford, somewhat angrily; "you don'tlike to do it, I see plain enough. It is very hard you can't be asgood-natured to your own little cousin as to one of the children in thevillage. "

"Indeed, grandmamma, I did not mean that. "

"O no, no, grandmamma, " joined in Henrietta, "we shall be very glad totake it. Pray let us. "

"Yes, " added Beatrice, "if it is really to be of any use, no one can bemore willing. "

"Of any use?" repeated Mrs. Langford. "No! never mind. I'll sendsomeone. "

"No, pray do not, dear grandmamma, " eagerly exclaimed Henrietta; "I dobeg you will let us take it. It will be making me at home directly tolet me be useful. "

Grandmamma was pacified. "When will you set out?" she asked; "you hadbetter not lose this bright morning. "

"We will go directly, " said Queen Bee; "we will go by the west turning, so that Henrietta may see the Pleasance. "

"My dear! the west turning will be a swamp, and I won't have you gettingwet in your feet and catching cold. "

"O, we have clogs; and besides, the road does not get so dirty since ithas been mended. I asked Johnny this morning. "

"As if he knew, or cared anything about it!--and you will be late forluncheon. Besides, grandpapa will drive your aunt there the first dayshe feels equal to it, and Henrietta may see it then. But you willalways have your own way. "

Henrietta had seldom been more uncomfortable than during thisaltercation; and but for reluctance to appear more obliging than hercousin, she would have begged to give up the scheme. Her mother wouldhave interfered in another moment, but the entrance of Uncle Geoffreygave a sudden turn to affairs. 

"Who likes to go to the Pleasance?" said he, as he entered. "All whosecuriosity lies that way may prepare their seven-leagued boots. "

"Here are the girls dying to go, " said Mrs. Langford, as well pleased asif she had not been objecting the minute before. 

"Very well. We go by Sutton Leigh: so make haste, maidens. " Then, turning to his mother, "Didn't I hear you say you had something to sendto Elizabeth, ma'am?"

"Only some currant jelly for little Tom; but if--"

"O grandmamma, that is my charge; pray don't cheat me, " exclaimedHenrietta. "If you will lend me a basket, it will travel much betterwith me than in Uncle Geoffrey's pocket. "

"Ay, that will be the proper division of labour, " said Uncle Geoffrey, looking well pleased with his niece; "but I thought you were off to getready. "

"Don't keep your uncle waiting, my dear, " added her mamma; and Henriettadeparted, Beatrice following her to her room, and there exclaiming, "Ifthere is a thing I can't endure, it is going to Sutton Leigh when one ofthe children is poorly! It is always bad enough--"

"Bad enough! O, Busy Bee!" cried Henrietta, quite unprepared to hear ofany flaw in her paradise. 

"You will soon see what I mean. The host of boys in the way; the woodenbricks and black horses spotted with white wafers that you break yourshins over, the marbles that roll away under your feet, the whips thatcrack in your ears, the universal air of nursery that pervades thehouse. It is worse in the morning, too; for one is always whining oversum, es, est, and another over his spelling. O, if I had eleven brothersin a small house, I should soon turn misanthrope. But you are laughinginstead of getting ready. "

"So are you. "

"My things will be on in a quarter of the time you take. I'll tell youwhat, Henrietta, the Queen Bee allows no drones, and I shall teach youto 'improve each shining hour;' for nothing will get you into such diredisgrace here as to be always behind time. Besides, it is a great shameto waste papa's time. Now, here is your shawl ready folded, and now Iwill trust you to put on your boots and bonnet by yourself. "

In five minutes the Queen Bee flew back again, and found Henrietta stillmeasuring the length of her bonnet strings before the glass. She huntedher down stairs at last, and found the two uncles and grandpapa atthe door, playing with the various dogs, small and great, that usuallywaited there. Fred and the other boys had gone out together some timesince, and the party now set forth, the three gentlemen walking togetherfirst. Henrietta turned as soon as she had gone a sufficient distancethat she might study the aspect of the house. It did not quite fulfilher expectations; it was neither remarkable for age nor beauty; themasonry was in a sort of chessboard pattern, alternate squares offreestone and of flints, the windows were not casements as she thoughtthey ought to have been, and the long wing, or rather excrescence, which contained the drawing-room, was by no means ornamental. It was arespectable, comfortable mansion, and that was all that was to besaid in its praise, and Beatrice's affection had so embellished itin description, that it was no wonder that Henrietta felt slightlydisappointed. She had had some expectation, too, of seeing it in themidst of a park, instead of which the carriage-drive along which theywere walking, only skirted a rather large grass field, full of elmtrees, and known by the less dignified name of the paddock. But shewould not confess the failure of her expectations even to herself, andas Beatrice was evidently looking for some expressions of admiration, she said the road must be very pretty in summer. 

"Especially when this bank is one forest of foxgloves, " said Queen Bee. "Only think! Uncle Roger and the farmer faction wanted grandpapa to havethis hedge row grubbed up, and turned into a plain dead fence; but Icarried the day, and I dare say Aunt Mary will be as much obliged tome as the boys who would have lost their grand preserve of stoats andrabbits. But here are the outfield and the drill. "

And going through a small gate at the corner of the paddock, theyentered a large ploughed field, traversed by a footpath raised andgravelled, so as to be high and dry, which was well for the two girls, as the gentlemen left them to march up and down there by themselves, whilst they were discussing the merits of the brilliant blue machinewhich was travelling along the furrows. It was rather a trial ofpatience, but Beatrice was used to it, and Henrietta was in a temper tobe pleased with anything. 

At last the inspection was concluded, and Mr. Langford came to hisgranddaughters, leaving his two sons to finish their last words withMartin. 

"Well, young ladies, " said he, "this is fine drilling, in patience atleast. I only wish my wheat may be as well drilled with Uncle Roger'snew-fangled machines. "

"That is right, grandpapa, " said Queen Bee; "you hate them as much as Ido, don't you now?"

"She is afraid they will make honey by steam, " said grandpapa, "andrender bees a work of supererogation. "

"They are doing what they can towards it, " said Beatrice. "Why, when Mr. Carey took us to see his hives, I declare I had quite a fellow-feelingfor my poor subjects, boxed up in glass, with all their privacydestroyed. And they won't even let them swarm their own way--a mostunwarrantable interference with the liberty of the subject. "

"Well done, Queenie, " said Mr. Langford, laughing; "a capital champion. And so you don't look forward to the time when we are to have our haymade by one machine, our sheep washed by another, our turkeys crammed bya third--ay, and even the trouble of bird-starving saved us?"

"Bird-starving!" repeated Henrietta. 

"Yes; or keeping a few birds, according to the mother's elegantdiminutive, " said Beatrice, "serving as live scarecrows. "

"I should have thought a scarecrow would have answered the purpose, "said Henrietta. 

"This is one that is full of gunpowder, and fires off every tenminutes, " said grandpapa; "but I told Uncle Roger we would have noneof them here unless he was prepared to see one of his boys blown up atevery third explosion. "

"Is Uncle Roger so very fond of machines?" said Henrietta. 

"He goes about to cattle shows and agricultural meetings, and comes homewith his pockets crammed with papers of new inventions, which I leavehim to try as long as he does not empty my pockets too fast. "

"Don't they succeed, then?" said Henrietta. 

"Why--ay--I must confess we get decent crops enough. And once weachieved a prize ox, --such a disgusting overgrown beast, that I couldnot bear the sight of it; and told Uncle Roger I would have no more suchwaste of good victuals, puffing up the ox instead of the frog. "

Henrietta was not quite certain whether all this was meant in jest orearnest; and perhaps the truth was, that though grandpapa had littleliking for new plans, he was too wise not to adopt those which possessedmanifest advantage, and only indulged himself in a good deal of playfulgrumbling, which greatly teased Uncle Roger. 

"There is Sutton Leigh, " said grandpapa, as they came in sight of a lowwhite house among farm buildings. "Well, Henrietta, are you prepared foran introduction to an aunt and half-a-dozen cousins, and Jessie Careyinto the bargain?"

"Jessie Carey!" exclaimed Beatrice in a tone of dismay. 

"Did you not know she was there? Why they always send Carey over for herwith the gig if there is but a tooth-ache the matter at Sutton Leigh. "

"Is she one of Aunt Roger's nieces?" asked Henrietta. 

"Yes, " said Beatrice. "And--O! grandpapa, don't look at me in that way. Where is the use of being your pet, if I may not tell my mind?"

"I won't have Henrietta prejudiced, " said Mr. Langford. "Don't listen toher, my dear: and I'll tell you what Jessie Carey is. She is an honest, good-natured girl as ever lived; always ready to help every one, neverthinking of trouble, without an atom of selfishness. "

"Now for the but, grandpapa, " cried Beatrice. "I allow all that, onlygrant me the but. "

"But Queen Bee, chancing to be a conceited little Londoner, looks downon us poor country folks as unfit for her most refined and intellectualsociety. "

"O grandpapa, that is not fair! Indeed, you don't really believe that. O, say you don't!" And Beatrice's black eyes were full of tears. 

"If I do not believe the whole, you believe the half, Miss Bee, " and headded, half whispering, "take care some of us do not believe the otherhalf. But don't look dismal on the matter, only put it into one of yourwaxen cells, and don't lose sight of it. And if it is any comfort toyou, I will allow that perhaps poor Jessie is not the most entertainingcompanion for you. Her vanity maggots are not of the same sort asyours. "

They had by this time nearly reached Sutton Leigh, a building littlealtered from the farm-house it had originally been, with a small gardenin front, and a narrow footpath up to the door. As soon as they came insight there was a general rush forward of little boys in brown holland, all darting on Uncle Geoffrey, and holding him fast by legs and arms. 

"Let me loose, you varlets, " he cried, and disengaging one hand, inanother moment drew from his capacious pocket a beautiful red ball, which he sent bounding over their heads, and dancing far away with allthe urchins in pursuit. 

At the same moment the rosy, portly, good-humoured Mrs. Roger Langfordappeared at the door, welcoming them cordially, and, as usual, accusingUncle Geoffrey of spoiling her boys. Henrietta thought she had neverseen a happier face than hers in the midst of cares, and children, anda drawing-room which, with its faded furniture strewn with toys, had infact, as Beatrice said, something of the appearance of a nursery. 

Little Tom, the youngest, was sitting on the lap of his cousin, JessieCarey, at whom Henrietta looked with some curiosity. She was a prettygirl of twenty, with a brilliant gipsy complexion, fine black hair, anda face which looked as good-natured as every other inhabitant of SuttonLeigh. 

But it would be tedious to describe a visit which was actually verytedious to Beatrice, and would have been the same to Henrietta butfor its novelty. Aunt Roger asked all particulars about Mrs. FrederickLangford, then of Aunt Geoffrey and Lady Susan St. Leger, and then gavethe history of the misfortunes of little Tom, who was by this time onUncle Geoffrey's knee looking at himself in the inside of the case ofhis watch. Henrietta's list, too, was considerably lengthened; for UncleGeoffrey advised upon a smoky chimney, mended a cart of Charlie's, andassisted Willie in a puzzling Latin exercise. 

It was almost one o'clock, and as a certain sound of clattering plateswas heard in the next room, Aunt Roger begged her guests to come in toluncheon. Uncle Geoffrey accepted for the girls, who were to walk onwith him; but Mr. Langford, no eater of luncheons, returned to his ownaffairs at home. Henrietta found the meal was the family dinner. She hadhardly ever been seated at one so plain, or on so long a table; and shewas not only surprised, but tormented herself by an uncomfortable anduncalled-for fancy, that her hosts must be supposing her to be remarkingon deficiencies. The younger children were not so perfect in themanagement of knife, fork, and spoon, as to be pleasant to watch; norwas the matter mended by the attempts at correction made from timeto time by their father and Jessie. But Henrietta endured betterthan Beatrice, whose face ill concealed an expression of disgust andweariness, and who maintained a silence very unlike her usual habits. 

At last Uncle Geoffrey, to the joy of both, proposed to pursue theirwalk, and they took leave. Queen Bee rejoiced as soon as they hadquitted the house, that the boys were too well occupied with theirpudding to wish to accompany them, but she did not venture on anyfurther remarks before her papa. He gave a long whistle, and then turnedto point out all the interesting localities to Henrietta. There wassomething to tell of every field, every tree, or every villager, withwhom he exchanged his hearty greeting. If it were only a name, itrecalled some story of mamma's, some tradition handed on by Beatrice. Never was walk more delightful; and the girls were almost sorry to findthemselves at the green gate of the Pleasance, leading to a gravelroad, great part of which had been usurped by the long shoots of theevergreens. Indeed, the place could hardly be said to correspond inappearance to its name, in its chilly, deserted, unfurnished state; butthe girls were resolved to admire, and while Uncle Geoffrey was deep inthe subject of repairs and deficiencies, they flitted about from garretto cellar, making plans, fixing on rooms, and seeing possibilities, incomplete enjoyment. But even this could not last for ever; and rathertired, and very cold, they seated themselves on a step of the stairs, and there built a marvellous castle of delight for next summer; thentalked over the Sutton Leigh household, discussed the last books theyhad read, and had just begun to yawn, when Uncle Geoffrey, being moremerciful than most busy men, concluded his business, and summoned themto return home. Their homeward walk was by a different road, through thevillage of Knight Sutton itself, which Henrietta had not yet seen. Itwas a long straggling street, the cottages for the most part in gardens, and with a general look of comfort and neatness that showed the care ofthe proprietor. 

"O, here is the church, " said Henrietta, in a subdued voice, as theycame to the low flint wall that fenced in the slightly rising groundoccupied by the churchyard, surrounded by a whole grove of noble elmtrees, amongst which could just be seen the small old church, with itslarge deep porch and curious low tower. 

"The door is open, " said Beatrice; "I suppose they are bringing in theholly for Christmas. Should you like to look in, Henrietta?"

"I do not know, " said she, looking at her uncle. "Mamma--"

"I think it might be less trying if she has not to feel for you andherself too, " said Uncle Geoffrey. 

"I am sure I should wish it very much, " said Henrietta, and they enteredthe low, dark, solemn-looking building, the massive stone columns andlow-browed arches of which had in them something peculiarly awful andimpressive to Henrietta's present state of mind. Uncle Geoffrey led heron into the chancel, where, among numerous mural tablets recordingthe names of different members of the Langford family, was one chieflynoticeable for the superior taste of its Gothic canopy, and which borethe name of Frederick Henry Langford, with the date of his death, andhis age, only twenty-six. One of the large flat stones below also hadthe initials F. H. L. , and the date of the year. Henrietta stood andlooked in deep silence, Beatrice watching her earnestly and kindly, andher uncle's thoughts almost as much as hers, on what might have been. Her father had been so near him in age, so constantly his companion, soentirely one in mind and temper, that he had been far more to him thanhis elder brother, and his death had been the one great sorrow of UncleGeoffrey's life. 

The first sound which broke the stillness was the opening of thedoor, as the old clerk's wife entered with a huge basket of holly, anddragging a mighty branch behind her. Uncle Geoffrey nodded in reply toher courtesy, and gave his daughter a glance which sent her to the otherend of the church to assist in the Christmas decorations. 

Henrietta turned her liquid eyes upon her uncle. "This is coming verynear him!" said she in a low voice. "Uncle; I wish I might be quite surethat he knows me. "

"Do not wish too much for certainty which has not been granted to us, "said Uncle Geoffrey. "Think rather of 'I shall go to him, but he shallnot return to me. '"

"But, uncle, you would not have me not believe that he is near to meand knows how--how I would have loved him, and how I do love him, " sheadded, while the tears rose to her eyes. 

"It may be so, my dear, and it is a thought which is not only mostcomforting, but good for us, as bringing us closer to the unseen world:but it has not been positively revealed, and it seems to me better todwell on that time when the meeting with him is so far certain that itdepends but on ourselves. "

To many persons, Uncle Geoffrey would scarce have spoken in this way;but he was aware of a certain tendency in Henrietta's mind to merge thereverence and respect she owed to her parents, in a dreamy unpracticalfeeling for the father whom she had never known, whose voice she hadnever heard, and from whom she had not one precept to obey; while shelost sight of that honour and duty which was daily called for towardsher mother. It was in honour, not in love, that Henrietta was wanting, and with how many daughters is it not the same? It was therefore, that though even to himself it seemed harsh, and cost him a pang, Mr. Geoffrey Langford resolved that his niece's first visit to her father'sgrave should not be spent in fruitless dreams of him or of his presence, alluring because involving neither self-reproach nor resolution; but inthoughts which might lead to action, to humility, and to the yielding upof self-will. 

Henrietta looked very thoughtful. "That time is so far away!" said she. 

"How do you know that?" said her uncle in the deep low tone that broughtthe full perception that "it is nigh, even at the doors. "

She gave a sort of shuddering sigh, the reality being doubly broughthome to her, by the remembrance of the suddenness of her father'ssummons. 

"It is awful, " she said. "I cannot bear to think of it. "

"Henrietta, " said her uncle solemnly, "guard yourself from being sosatisfied with a dream of the present as to lose sight of the real, most real future. " He paused, and as she did not speak, went on: "Thepresent, which is the means of attaining to that future, is one not ofvisions and thoughts, but of deeds. "

Again Henrietta sighed, but presently she said, "But, uncle, that wouldbring us back to the world of sense. Are we not to pray that we may inheart and mind ascend?"

"Yes, but to dwell with Whom? Not to stop short with objects once ofearthly affection. "

"Then would you not have me think of him at all?" said she, almostreproachfully. 

"I would have you take care, Henrietta, lest the thought should absorbthe love and trust due to your true and Heavenly Father, and at the sametime you forget what on earth is owed to your mother. Do you think thatis what your father would desire?"

"You mean, " she said sadly, "that while I do not think enough of God, and while I love my own way so well, I have no right to dwell on thethought I love best, the thought that he is near. "

"Take it rather as a caution than as blame, " said Uncle Geoffrey. A longsilence ensued, during which Henrietta thought deeply on the new ideaopened to her. Her vision, for it could not be called her memory ofher father, had in fact been too highly enshrined in her mind, too muchworshipped, she had deemed this devotion a virtue, and fostered as itwas by the solitude of her life, and the temper of her mother's mind, the truth was as Uncle Geoffrey had hinted, and she began to perceiveit, but still it was most unwillingly, for the thought was cherishedso as to be almost part of herself. Uncle Geoffrey's manner was so kindthat she could not be vexed with him, but she was disappointed, for shehad hoped for a narration of some part of her father's history, and forthe indulgence of that soft sorrow which has in it little pain. Insteadof this she was bidden to quit her beloved world, to soar above it, or to seek for a duty which she had rather not believe that she hadneglected, though--no, she did not like to look deeper. 

Mr. Geoffrey Langford gave her time for thought, though of what natureit might be, he could not guess, and then said, "One thing more beforewe leave this place. Whether Fred cheerfully obeys the fifth commandmentin its full extent, may often, as I believe, depend on your influence. Will you try to exert it in the right way?"

"You mean when he wishes to do things like other boys of his age, " saidHenrietta. 

"Yes. Think yourself, and lead him to think, that obedience is betterthan what he fancies manliness. Teach him to give up pleasure for thesake of obedience, and you will do your work as a sister and daughter. "

While Uncle Geoffrey was speaking, Beatrice's operations with the hollyhad brought her a good deal nearer to them, and at the same time thechurch door opened, and a gentleman entered, whom the first glanceshowed Henrietta to be Mr. Franklin, the clergyman of the parish, ofwhom she had heard so much. He advanced on seeing Beatrice with theholly in her hand. "Miss Langford! This is just what I was wishing. "

"I was just helping old Martha, " said Beatrice; "we came in to show mycousin the church, and--"

By this time the others had advanced. 

"How well the church looks this dark afternoon, " said Uncle Geoffrey, speaking in a low tone, "it is quite the moment to choose for seeingit for the first time. But you are very early in beginning youradornments. "

"I thought if I had the evergreens here in time, I might see a little tothe arrangement myself, " said Mr. Franklin, "but I am afraid I know verylittle about the matter. Miss Langford, I wish you would assist us withyour taste. "

Beatrice and Henrietta looked at each other, and their eyes sparkledwith delight. "I should like it exceedingly, " said the former; "I wasjust thinking what capabilities there are. And Henrietta will do itbeautifully. "

"Then will you really be kind enough to come to-morrow, and see what canbe done?"

"Yes, we will come as soon as ever breakfast is over, and work hard, "said Queen Bee. "And we will make Alex and Fred come too, to do theplaces that are out of reach. "

"Thank you, thank you, " said Mr. Franklin, eagerly; "I assure you thematter was quite upon my mind, for the old lady there, good as she is, certainly has not the best taste in church dressing. "

"And pray, Mr. Franklin, let us have a step ladder, for I am sure thereought to be festoons round those two columns of the chancel arch. Look, papa, do you not think so?"

"You might put a twining wreath like the columns at Roslin chapel, " saidher papa, "and I should try how much I could cover the Dutch cherubs atthe head of the tables of commandments. "

"O, and don't you see, " said Henrietta, "there in front of the altaris a space, where I really think we might make the cross and 'I H S' inholly?"

"But could you, Henrietta?" asked Beatrice. 

"O yes, I know I can; I made 'M. L. ' in roses on mamma's last birthday, and set it up over the chimney-piece in the drawing-room, and I am surewe could contrive this. How appropriate it will look!"

"Ah!" said Mr. Franklin, "I have heard of such things, but I had alwaysconsidered them as quite above our powers. "

"They would be, without Henrietta, " said Queen Bee, "but she was alwaysexcellent as wreath weaving, and all those things that belong to choicetaste and clever fingers. Only let us have plenty of the wherewithal, and we will do our work so as to amaze the parish. "

"And now, " said Uncle Geoffrey, "we must be walking home, my youngladies. It is getting quite dark. "

It was indeed, for as they left the church the sunlight was fast fadingon the horizon, and Venus was already shining forth in pure quiet beautyon the clear blue sky. Mr. Franklin walked a considerable part of theway home with them, adding to Henrietta's list by asking counsel abouta damp spot in the wall of the church, and on the measures to be adoptedwith a refractory farmer. 

By the time they reached home, evening was fast closing in; and at thesound of their entrance Mrs. Langford and Frederick both came to meetthem in the hall, the former asking anxiously whether they had not beenlingering in the cold and damp, inspecting the clogs to see that theywere dry, and feeling if the fingers were cold. She then ordered the twogirls up stairs to dress before going into the drawing-room with theirthings on, and told Henrietta to remember that dinner would be athalf-past five. 

"Is mamma gone up?" asked Henrietta. 

"Yes, my dear, long ago; she has been out with your grandpapa, and isgone to rest herself. "

"And how long have you been at home, Fred?" said Queen Bee. "Why, youhave performed your toilette already! Why did you not come to meet us?"

"I should have had a long spy-glass to see which way you were gone, "said Fred, in a tone which, to Henrietta's ears, implied that he was notquite pleased, and then, following his sister up stairs, he went on toher, "I wish I had never come in, but it was about three, and Alex andCarey thought we might as well get a bit of something for luncheon, andthereby they had the pleasure of seeing mamma send her pretty dear up tochange his shoes and stockings. So there was an end of me for the day. I declare it is getting too absurd! Do persuade mamma that I am not madeof sugar candy. "

With Uncle Geoffrey's admonitions fresh in her mind, these complaintssounded painfully in Henrietta's ears, and she would gladly have soothedaway his irritation; but, however convenient Judith might find thestairs for private conferences, they did not appear to her equallyappropriate, especially when at the very moment grandpapa was comingdown from above and grandmamma up from below. Both she and Fredtherefore retreated into their mamma's room, where they found hersitting on a low stool by the fire, reading by its light one of the oldchildish books, of which she seemed never to weary. Fred's petulance, to do him justice, never could endure the charm of her presence, and hisbrow was as bright and open as his sister's as he came forward, hopingthat she was not tired. 

"Quite the contrary, thank you, my dear, " said she, smiling; "I enjoyedmy walk exceedingly. "

"A walk!" exclaimed Henrietta. 

"A crawl, perhaps you would call it, but a delightful crawl it was withgrandpapa up and down what we used to call the sun walk, by the kitchengarden wall. And now, Pussy-cat, Pussy-cat, where have you been?"

"I've been to Sutton Leigh, with the good Queen, " answered Henrietta, gaily. "I have seen everything--Sutton Leigh, and the Pleasance, and thechurch! And, mamma, Mr. Franklin has asked us to go and dress the churchfor Christmas! Is not that what of all things is delightful? Only thinkof church-decking! What I have read and heard of, but I always thoughtit something too great and too happy for me ever to do. "

"I hope you will be able to succeed in it, " said her mamma. "What atreat it will be to see your work on Sunday. "

"And you are to help, too, Fred; you and Alexander are to come and reachthe high places for us. But do tell us your adventures. "

Fred had been all over the farm; had been introduced to the wholelive stock, including ferrets and the tame hedge-hog; visited theplantations, and assisted at the killing of a stoat; cut his name out onthe bark of the old pollard; and, in short, had been supremely happy. He "was just going to see Dumpling and Vixen's puppies at Sutton Leigh, when--"

"When I caught you, my poor boy, " said his mamma; "and very cruel itwas, I allow, but I thought you might have gone out again. "

"I had no other thick shoes upstairs; but really, mamma, no one thinksof minding those things. "

"You should have seen him, Henrietta, " said his mother; "his shoeslooked as if he had been walking through a river. "

"Well, but so were all the others, " said Fred. 

"Very likely, but they are more used to it; and, besides, they are suchsturdy fellows. I should as soon think of a deal board catching cold. But you--if there is as much substance in you, it is all height; and youknow, Fred, you would find it considerably more tiresome to be laid upwith a bad cold. "

"I never catch cold, " said Fred. 

"Boys always say so, " said Mrs. Frederick Langford; "it is a--what shallI call it?--a puerile delusion, which their mammas can always defeatwhen they choose by a formidable list of colds and coughs; but I won'tput you in mind of how often you have sat with your feet on the fendercroaking like an old raven, and solacing yourself with stick-liquoriceand Ivanhoe. "

"You had better allow him to proceed in his pursuit of a cold, mamma, "said Henrietta, "just to see how grandmamma will nurse it. "

A knock at the door here put an end to the conversation, by announcingthe arrival of Bennet, Mrs. Frederick Langford's maid; who had come insuch good time that Henrietta was, for once in her life, full dresseda whole quarter of an hour before dinner time. Nor was her involuntarypunctuality without a reward, for the interval of waiting for dinner, sitting round the fire, was particularly enjoyed by Mr. And Mrs. Langford; and Uncle Geoffrey, therefore, always contrived to make it aleisure time; and there was so much merriment in talking over the walk, and discussing the plans for the Pleasance, that Henrietta resolvednever again to miss such a pleasant reunion by her own tardiness. 

Nor was the evening less agreeable. Henrietta pleased grandmamma bygetting her carpet-work out of some puzzle, and by flying across theroom to fetch the tea-chest: she delighted grandpapa by her singing, andby finding his spectacles for him; she did quite a praiseworthy piece ofher own crochet purse, and laughed a great deal at the battle that wasgoing on between Queen Bee and Fred about the hero of some new book. She kept her list of Uncle Geoffrey's manifold applicants on the tablebefore her, and had the pleasure of increasing it by two men, businessunknown, who sent to ask him to come and speak to them; by a loudand eager appeal from Fred and Beatrice to decide their contest, by aquestion of taste on the shades of grandmamma's carpet-work, and by herown query how to translate a difficult German passage which had baffledherself, mamma, and Fred. 

However, Queen Bee's number, fifty, had not been attained, and hermajesty was obliged to declare that she meant in a week instead ofa day, for which reason the catalogue was written out fair, to becontinued. 

Mrs. Frederick Langford thought herself well recompensed for the painher resolution had cost her, by the pleasure that Mr. And Mrs. Langfordevidently took in her son and daughter, by the brightness of her twochildren's own faces, and especially when Henrietta murmured in hersleep something about "delightful, " "bright leaves and red berries, " andthen, "and 'tis for my own dear papa. "

And after all, in the attainment of their fondest wish, were Henriettaand Frederick as serenely happy as she was?

CHAPTER VI. 

Christmas Eve, which was also a Saturday, dawned brightly on Henrietta, but even her eagerness for her new employment could not so far overcomeher habitual dilatoriness as not to annoy her cousin, Busy Bee, even toa degree of very unnecessary fidgeting when there was any work in hand. She sat on thorns all breakfast time, devoured what her grandpapa calleda sparrow's allowance, swallowed her tea scalding, and thereby gainednothing but leisure to fret at the deliberation with which Henrietta cuther bread into little square dice, and spread her butter on them as ifeach piece was to serve as a model for future generations. 

The subject of conversation was not precisely calculated to soothe herspirits. Grandmamma was talking of giving a young party--a New-year'sparty on Monday week, the second of January. "It would be pleasant forthe young people, " she thought, "if Mary did not think it would be toomuch for her. "

Beatrice looked despairingly at her aunt, well knowing what her answerwould be, that it would not be at all too much for her, that she shouldbe very glad to see her former neighbours, and that it would be a greattreat to Henrietta and Fred. 

"We will have the carpet up in the dining-room, " added Mrs. Langford, "and Daniels, the carpenter, shall bring his violin, and we can get up anice little set for a dance. "

"O thank you, grandmamma, " cried Henrietta eagerly, as Mrs. Langfordlooked at her. 

"Poor innocent, you little know!" murmured Queen Bee to herself. 

"That is right, Henrietta, " said Mrs. Langford, "I like to see youngpeople like young people, not above a dance now and then, --all inmoderation. "

"Above dancing, " said grandpapa, who, perhaps, took this as a reflectionon his pet, Queen Bee, "that is what you call being on the high rope, isn't it?"

Beatrice, though feeling excessively savage, could not help laughing. 

"Are you on the high rope, Queenie?" asked Fred, who sat next to her:"do you despise the light fantastic--?"

"I don't know: I do not mind it much, " was all she could bring herselfto say, though she could not venture to be more decidedly ungraciousbefore her father. "Not much in itself, " she added, in a lower tone, as the conversation grew louder, "it is the people, Philip Carey, andall, --but hush! listen. "

He did so, and heard Careys, Dittons, Evanses, &c. , enumerated, and ateach name Beatrice looked gloomier, but she was not observed, for herAunt Mary had much to hear about the present state of the families, andthe stream of conversation flowed away from the fête. 

The meal was at last concluded, and Beatrice in great haste orderedFrederick off to Sutton Leigh, with a message to Alex to meet them atthe Church, and bring as much holly as he could, and his great knife. "Bring him safe, " said she, "for if you fail, and prove a corbiemessenger, I promise you worse than the sharpest sting of the most angrybee. "

Away she ran to fetch her bonnet and shawl, while Henrietta walked upafter her, saying she would just fetch her mamma's writing-case downfor her, and then get ready directly. On coming down, she could not helpwaiting a moment before advancing to the table, to hear what was passingbetween her mother and uncle. 

"Do you like for me to drive you down to the Church to-day?" he asked. 

"Thank you, " she answered, raising her mild blue eyes, "I think not. "

"Remember, it will be perfectly convenient, and do just what suits you, "said he in a voice of kind solicitude. 

"Thank you very much, Geoffrey, " she replied, in an earnest tone, "butindeed I had better go for the first time to the service, especially onsuch a day as to-morrow, when thoughts must be in better order. "

"I understand, " said Uncle Geoffrey: and Henrietta, putting down thewriting-case, retreated with downcast eyes, with a moment's perceptionof the higher tone of mind to which he had tried to raise her. 

In the hall she found Mrs. Langford engaged in moving her preciousfamily of plants from their night quarters near the fire to thebright sunshine near the window. Henrietta seeing her lifting heavyflower-pots, instantly sprang forward with, "O grandmamma, let me help. "

Little as Mrs. Langford was wont to allow herself to be assisted, shewas gratified with the obliging offer, and Henrietta had carriedthe myrtle, the old-fashioned oak-leaved geranium, with its fragrantdeeply-indented leaves, a grim-looking cactus, and two or three more, and was deep in the story of the orange-tree, the pip of which had beenplanted by Uncle Geoffrey at five years old, but which never seemedlikely to grow beyond the size of a tolerable currant-bush, whenBeatrice came down and beheld her with consternation--"Henrietta!Henrietta! what are you about?" cried she, breaking full into the story. "Do make haste. "

"I will come in a minute, " said Henrietta, who was assisting inadjusting the prop to which the old daphne was tied. 

"Don't stop for me, my dear, " said Mrs. Langford: "there, don't let mebe in your way. "

"O, grandmamma, I like to do this very much. "

"But, Henrietta, " persisted the despotic Queen Bee, "we really ought tobe there. "

"What is all this about?" said grandmamma, not particularly wellpleased. "There, go, go, my dear; I don't want any more, thank you: whatare you in such a fuss for now, going out all day again?"

"Yes, grandmamma, " said Beatrice, "did you not hear that Mr. Franklinasked us to dress the church for to-morrow? and we must not waste timein these short days. "

"Dress the church! Well, I suppose you must have your own way, but Inever heard of such things in my younger days. Young ladies are verydifferent now!"

Beatrice drove Henrietta up-stairs with a renewed "Do make haste, " andthen replied in a tone of argument and irritation, "I do not see whyyoung ladies should not like dressing churches for festivals better thanarraying themselves for balls and dances!"

True as the speech was, how would Beatrice have liked to have seen herfather or mother stand before her at that moment?

"Ah, well! it is all very well, " said grandmamma, shaking her head, asshe always did when out-argued by Beatrice, "you girls think yourselvesso clever, there is no talking to you; but I think you had much betterlet old Martha alone; she has done it well enough before ever you wereborn, and such a litter as you will make the Church won't be fit to beseen to-morrow! All day in that cold damp place too! I wonder Mary couldconsent, Henrietta looks very delicate. "

"O no, grandmamma, she is quite strong, very strong indeed. "

"I am sure she is hoarse this morning, " proceeded Mrs. Langford; "Ishall speak to her mamma. "

"O don't, pray, grandmamma; she would be so disappointed. And what wouldMr. Franklin do?"

"O very well, I promise you, as he has done before, " said Mrs. Langford, hastening off to the drawing-room, while her granddaughter dartedupstairs to hurry Henrietta out of the house before a prohibition couldarrive. It was what Henrietta had too often assisted Fred in doing tohave many scruples, besides which she knew how grieved her mamma wouldbe to be obliged to stop her, and how glad to find her safe out ofreach; so she let her cousin heap on shawls, fur cuffs, and boas in afar less leisurely and discriminating manner than was usual with her. 

"It would be absolute sneaking (to use an elegant word), I suppose, "said Beatrice, "to go down the back stairs. "

"True, " said Henrietta, "we will even take the bull by the horns. "

"And trust to our heels, " said Beatrice, stealthily opening the door;"the coast is clear, and I know both your mamma and my papa will notstop us if they can help it. One, two, three, and away!"

Off they flew, down the stairs, across the hall, and up the long greenwalk, before they ventured to stop for Henrietta to put on her gloves, and take up the boa that was dragging behind her like a huge serpent. And after all, there was no need for their flight; they might havegone openly and with clear consciences, had they but properly andsubmissively waited the decision of their elders. Mr. Geoffrey Langford, who did not know how ill his daughter had been behaving, would have beenvery sorry to interfere with the plan, and easily reconciled his motherto it, in his own cheerful pleasant way. Indeed her opposition hadbeen entirely caused by Beatrice herself; she had not once thought ofobjecting when it had been first mentioned the evening before, andhad not Beatrice not first fidgeted and then argued, would only haveregarded it as a pleasant way of occupying their morning. 

"I could scold you, Miss Drone, " said Beatrice when the two girls hadset themselves to rights, and recovered breath; "it was all the fault ofyour dawdling. "

"Well, perhaps it was, " said Henrietta, "but you know I could not seegrandmamma lifting those flower-pots without offering to help her. "

"How many more times shall I have to tell you that grandmamma hates tobe helped?"

"Then she was very kind to me, " replied Henrietta. 

"I see how it will be, " said Beatrice, smiling, "you will begrandmamma's pet, and it will be a just division. I never yet could gether to let me help her in anything, she is so resolutely independent. "

Queen Bee did not take into account how often her service was eithergrudgingly offered, or else when she came with a good will, it was alsowith a way, it might be better, it might be worse, but in which she wasdetermined to have the thing done, and against which her grandmamma wasof course equally resolute. 

"She is an amazing person!" said Henrietta. "Is she eighty yet?"

"Seventy-nine, " said Beatrice; "and grandpapa eighty-two. I always sayI think we should get the prize in a show of grandfathers andgrandmothers, if there was one like Uncle Roger's fat cattle shows. Youknow she thinks nothing of walking twice to church on a Sunday, andall over the village besides when there is anybody ill. But here is theSutton Leigh path. Let me see if those boys are to be trusted. Yes, yes, that's right! Capital!" cried she in high glee; "here is Birnam woodcoming across the field. " And springing on one of the bars of the gatenear the top, she flourished her handkerchief, chanting or singing, "Greet thee well, thou holly green, Welcome, welcome, art thou seen, With all thy glittering garlands bending, As to greet my--quickdescending:"

she finished in an altered tone, as she was obliged to springprecipitately down to avoid a fall. "It made a capital conclusion, however, though not quite what I had proposed. Well, gentlemen, " asfour or five of the boys came up, each bearing a huge holly bush--"Well, gentlemen, you are a sight for sair een. "

"With sair fingers, you mean, " said Fred; "these bushes scratch likehalf a dozen wild cats. "

"It is in too good a cause for me to pity you, " said Beatrice. 

"Nor would I accept it if you would, " said Fred. 

His sister, however, seemed determined on bestowing it whether he wouldor not, --"How your hands are bleeding! Have you any thorns in them? Letme see, I have my penknife. "

"Stuff!" was Fred's gracious reply, as he glanced at Alex and Carey. 

"But why did you not put on your gloves?" proceeded Henrietta. 

"Gloves, nonsense!" said Fred, who never went without them at Rocksand. 

"He will take up the gauntlet presently, " said Beatrice. "By the by, Alex, how many pairs of gloves have you had or lost in your life?"

"O, I always keep a pair for Sundays and for Allonfield, " said Alex. 

"Jessie says she will never let me drive her again without them, " saidCarey, "but trust me for that: I hate them, they are such girl's things;I tell her then she can't be driven. "

Fred could not bear to hear of Carey's driving, a thing which he had notyet been permitted to attempt, and he hastily broke in, "You have nottold the news yet. "

"What news?"

"The Euphrosyne is coming home, " cried the boys with one voice. "Had wenot told you? The Euphrosyne is coming home, and Roger may be here anyday!"

"That is something like news, " said Queen Bee; "I thought it wouldonly be that the puppies could see, or that Tom's tooth was through. Grandpapa has not heard it?"

"Papa is going up to tell him, " said John. "I was going too, only Alexbagged me to carry his holly-bush. "

"And so the great Rogero is coming home!" said Beatrice. "How you willlearn to talk sea slang! And how happy grandmamma will be, especiallyif he comes in time for her great affair. Do you hear, Alex? you mustpractise your steps, for grandmamma is going to give a grand party, Careys and Evanses, and all, on purpose to gratify Fred's great love ofdancing. "

"I love dancing?" exclaimed Fred, in a tone of astonishment andcontempt. 

"Why, did you not look quite enraptured at breakfast when it wasproposed? I expected you every moment to ask the honour of my hand forthe first quadrille, but I suppose you leave it for Philip Carey!"

"If it comes at all you must start me, Bee, " said Alex, "for I am sure Ican't dance with any one but you. "

"Let me request it now, " said Fred, "though why you should think I likedancing I cannot imagine! I am sure nothing but your Majesty can make itendurable. "

"There are compliments to your Majesty, " cried Henrietta, laughing; "onewill not or cannot dance at all without her, the other cannot find itendurable! I long to see which is to be gratified. "

"Time will show, " said Beatrice; "I shall ponder on their requests, and decide maturely, Greek against Prussian, lover of the dance againsthater of the dance. "

"I don't love it, I declare, " exclaimed Fred. 

"I don't mind it, if you dance with me, " said Alex. 

And Beatrice was in her glory, teasing them both, and feeling herselfthe object of attention to both. 

Flirtation is not a pleasant word, and it is one which we are apt tothink applies chiefly to the manners of girls, vain of their personalappearance, and wanting in sense or education. Beatrice would havethought herself infinitely above it; but what else was her love ofattention, her delight in playing off her two cousins against eachother? Beauty, or the consciousness of beauty, has little to do with it. Henrietta, if ever the matter occurred to her, could not help knowingthat she was uncommonly pretty, yet no one could be more free from anytendency to this habit. Beatrice knew equally well that she was plain, but that did not make the least difference; if any, it was rather on theside of vanity, in being able without a handsome face, so to attract andengross her cousins. It was amusing, gratifying, flattering, to feelher power to play them off, and irritate the little feelings of jealousywhich she had detected; and thoughtless as to the right or wrong, shepursued her course. 

On reaching the church they found that, as was usual with her, she hadbrought them before any one was ready; the doors were locked, and theyhad to wait while Carey and John went to old Martha's to fetch the key. In a few minutes more Mr. Franklin arrived, well pleased to see themready to fulfil their promise; the west door was opened, and disclosed ahuge heap of holly laid up under the tower, ready for use. 

The first thing the boys did was to go up into the belfry, and out onthe top of the tower, and Busy Bee had a great mind to follow them; butshe thought it would not be fair to Mr. Franklin, and the wide fieldupon which she had to work began to alarm her imagination. 

Before the boys came down again, she had settled the plan of operationswith Henrietta and Mr. Franklin, dragged her holly bushes into theaisle, and brought out her knife and string. They came down declaringthat they could be of no use, and they should go away, and Beatrice madeno objection to the departure of Carey and Johnny, who, as she justlyobserved, would be only in the way; but she insisted on keeping Fred andAlex. 

"Look at all those pillars! How are we ever to twine them by ourselves?Look at all those great bushes! How are we to lift them? No, no, indeed, we cannot spare you, Fred. We must have some stronger hands to help us, and you have such a good eye for this sort of thing. "

Had Alexander gone, Fred would have found some excuse for following him, rather than he should leave him with young ladies, doing young ladies'work; but, as Beatrice well knew, Alex would never withdraw hisassistance when she asked Fred's, and she felt secure of them both. 

"There, Alex, settle that ladder by the screen, please. Now will you seeif there is anything to tie a piece of string to? for it is of no use tomake a festoon if we cannot fasten it. "

"I can't see anything. "

"Here, give me your hand, and I'll look. " Up tripped the little Bee, just holding by his hand. "Yes, to be sure there is! Here is a greatrough nail sticking out. Is it firm? Yes, capitally. Now, Alex, make asailor's knot round it. Help me down first though--thank you. Fred, willyou trim that branch into something like shape. You see how I mean. Wemust have a long drooping wreath of holly and ivy, to blend with thescreen. How tough this ivy is! Thank you--that's it. Well, Mr. Franklin, I hope we shall get on in time. "

Mr. Franklin was sure of it; and seeing all actively employed, andhimself of little use, he took his leave for the present, hoping thatthe Misses Langford would not tire themselves. 

Angels' work is Church decoration--work fit for angels, that is to say;but how pure should be the hands and hearts engaged in it! Its greatnessmakes it solemn and awful. It is work immediately for the glory ofGod; it is work like that of the children who strewed the palm-branchesbefore the steps of the Redeemer! Who can frame in imagination amore favoured and delightful occupation, than that of the four youngcreatures who were, in very deed, greeting the coming of their Lord withthose bright and glistening wreaths with which they were adorning Hissanctuary?

Angels' work! but the angels veil their faces and tremble; and weupon earth have still greater cause to tremble and bow down in awfulreverence, when we are allowed to approach so near His shrine. And wasthat spirit of holy fear--that sole desire for His glory--the chiefthought with these young people?

Not that there was what even a severe judge could call irreverence inword or deed; there was no idle laughter, and the conversation was in atone and a style which showed that they were all well trained in respectfor the sanctity of the place. Even in all the helping up and downladders and steps, in the reaching over for branches, in all the littlemishaps and adventures that befell them, their behaviour was outwardlyperfectly what it ought to have been; and that is no small praise forfour young people, under seventeen, left in church alone together for somany hours. 

But still Beatrice's great aim was, unconsciously perhaps, to keep thetwo boys entirely devoted to herself, and to exert her power. Wonderfulpower it was in reality, which kept them interested in employmentso little accordant with their nature; kept them amused withoutirreverence, and doing good service all the time. But it was a power ofwhich she greatly enjoyed the exercise, and which did nothing to lessenthe rivalry between them. As to Henrietta, she was sitting apart on ahassock, very happy, and very busy in arranging the Monogram and wreathwhich she had yesterday proposed. She was almost forgotten by the otherthree--certainly neglected--but she did not feel it so; she had ratherbe quiet, for she could not work and talk like Queen Bee; and she likedto think over the numerous verses and hymns that her employment broughtto her mind. Uncle Geoffrey's conversation dwelt upon her too; she beganto realize his meaning, and she was especially anxious to fulfil hisdesire, by entreating Fred to beware of temptations to disobedience. Opportunities for private interviews were, however, very rare at KnightSutton, and she had been looking forward to having him all to herselfhere, when he must wish to visit his father's grave with her. She wasvexed for a moment that his first attention was not given to it; but sheknew that his first thought was there, and boys never showed what wasuppermost in their minds to anyone but their sisters. She should havehim by and by, and the present was full of tranquil enjoyment. 

If Henrietta had been free from blame in coming to Knight Sutton at all, or in her way of leaving the house this morning, there would have beenlittle or no drawback to our pleasure in contemplating her. 

"Is it possible!" exclaimed Queen Bee, as the last reverberation ofthe single stroke of the deep-toned clock fell quivering on her ear. "Ithought you would have given us at least eleven more. "

"What a quantity remains to be done!" sighed Henrietta, laying downthe wreath which she had just completed. "Your work looks beautiful, Queenie, but how shall we ever finish?"

"A short winter's day, too!" said Beatrice. "One thing is certain--thatwe can't go home to luncheon. "

"What will grandmamma think of that?" said Henrietta doubtfully. "Willshe like it?"

Beatrice could have answered, "Not at all;" but she said, "O never mind, it can't be helped; we should be late even if we were to set off now, and besides we might be caught and stopped. "

"Oh, that would be worse than anything, " said Henrietta, quiteconvinced. 

"So you mean to starve, " said Alex. 

"See what slaves men are to creature comforts, " said Beatrice; "what doyou say, Henrietta?"

"I had much rather stay here, " said Henrietta; "I want nothing. "

"Much better fun to go without, " said Fred, who had not often enoughmissed a regular meal not to think doing so an honour and a joke. 

"I'll tell you what will do best of all!" cried Queen Bee. "You go toDame Reid's, and buy us sixpennyworth of the gingerbread papa callsthe extreme of luxury, and we will eat it on the old men's bench in theporch. "

"Oho! her Majesty is descending to creature comforts, " said Alex. "Ithought she would soon come down to other mortals. "

"Only to gratify her famishing subjects, " said Beatrice, "you disloyalvassal, you! Fred is worth a dozen of you. Come, make haste. She issure to have a fresh stock, for she always has a great baking when Mr. Geoffrey is coming. "

"For his private eating?" said Fred. 

"He likes it pretty well, certainly; and he seldom goes through thevillage without making considerable purchase for the benefit of thechildren in his path, who take care to be not a few. I found littleJenny Woods made small distinction between Mr. Geoffrey and Mr. Ginger. But come, Alex, why are you not off?"

"Because I don't happen to have a sixpence, " said Alex, with an honestopenness, overcoming his desire to add "in my pocket. " It cost himan effort; for at school, where each slight advantage was noted, and comparisons perpetually made, Fred's superior wealth and largerallowance had secured him the adherence of some; and though he eitherknew it not, or despised such mammon worship, his rival was sufficientlyawake to it to be uncomfortable in acknowledging his poverty. 

"Every one is poor at the end of the half, " said Fred, tossing up hispurse and catching it again, so as to demonstrate its lightness. "Hereis a sixpence, though, at her Majesty's service. "

"And do you think she would take your last sixpence, you honour toloyalty?" said Beatrice, feeling in her pocket. "We are not fallen quiteso low. But alas! the royal exchequer is, as I now remember, locked upin my desk at home. "

"And my purse is in my workbox, " said Henrietta. 

"So, Fred, I must be beholden to you for the present, " said Beatrice, "if it won't quite break you down. "

"There are more where that came from, " said Fred, with a careless air. "Come along, Alex. "

Away they went. "That is unlucky, " soliloquised Queen Bee: "if I couldhave sent Alex alone, it would have been all right, and he would havecome back again; but now one will carry away the other, and we shall seethem no more. "

"No, no, that would be rather too bad, " said Henrietta. "I am sure Fredwill behave better. "

"Mark what I say, " said Beatrice. "I know how it will be; a dog or a gunis what a boy cannot for a moment withstand, and if we see them again'twill be a nine days' wonder. But come, we must to the work; I want tolook at your wreath. "

She did not, however, work quite as cheerily as before, and lost muchtime in running backwards and forwards to peep out at the door, andin protesting that she was neither surprised nor annoyed at thefaithlessness of her envoys. At last a droll little frightened knock washeard at the door. Beatrice went to open it, and a whitey-brown paperparcel was held out to her by a boy in a green canvas round frock, anda pair of round, hard, red, solid-looking cheeks; no other than DameReid's grandson. 

"Thank you, " said she. "Did Master Alexander give you this?"

"Ay. "

"Thank you, that's right!" and away he went. 

"You see, " said Queen Bee, holding up the parcel to Henrietta, who cameout to the porch. "Let us look. O, they have vouchsafed a note!" andshe took out a crumpled envelope, directed in Aunt Mary's handwritingto Fred, on the back of which Alex had written, "Dear B. , we beg pardon, but Carey and Dick are going up to Andrews's about his terrier. --A. L. ""Very cool, certainly!" said Beatrice, laughing, but still with a littlepique. "What a life I will lead them!"

"Well, you were a true prophet, " said Henrietta, "and after all it doesnot much signify. They have done all the work that is out of reach; butstill I thought Fred would have behaved better. "

"You have yet to learn the difference between Fred with you or with me, and Fred with his own congeners, " said Beatrice; "you don't know halfthe phases of boy nature. "

Henrietta sighed; for Fred had certainly not been quite what sheexpected him to-day. Not because he had appeared to forget her, for thatwas nothing--that was only appearance, and her love was too healthy andtrue even to feel it neglect; but he had forgotten his father's grave. He was now neglecting the church; and far from its consoling her to hearthat it was the way with all boys when they came together, it gave herone moment's doubt whether they were not happier, when they were all inall to each other at Rocksand. 

It was but for one instant that she felt this impression; the next ithad passed away, and she was sharing the gingerbread with her cousin, and smiling at the great admiration in which it seemed to be held bythe natives of Knight Sutton. They took a short walk up and down thechurchyard while eating it, and then returned to their occupation, wellpleased, on re-entering, to see how much show they had made already. They worked together very happily; indeed, now that all thought of hersquires was quite out of her head, Beatrice worked much more in earnestand in the right kind of frame; something more of the true spirit ofthis service came over her, and she really possessed some of that temperof devotion which she fancied had been with her the whole day. 

It was a beautiful thing when Henrietta raised her face, as she waskneeling by the font, and her clear sweet voice began at first in a low, timid note, but gradually growing fuller and stronger--

"Hark! the herald angels sing Glory to the new-born King, Peace onearth, and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled. "

Beatrice took up the strain at the first line, and sweetly did theirtones echo through the building; while their hearts swelled with delightand thankfulness for the "good tidings of great joy. " Another andanother Christmas hymn was raised, and never were carols sung by happiervoices; and the decorations proceeded all the better and more suitablybeneath their influence. They scarcely knew how time passed away, tillHenrietta, turning round, was amazed to see Uncle Geoffrey standing justwithin the door watching them. 

"Beautiful!" said he, as she suddenly ceased, in some confusion; "yourwork is beautiful! I came here prepared to scold you a little, but Idon't think I can. Who made that wreath and Monogram?"

"She did, of course, papa, " said Beatrice, pointing to her cousin. "Whoelse could?"

"It is a very successful arrangement, " said Uncle Geoffrey, moving aboutto find the spot for obtaining the best view. "It is an arrangement tosuggest so much. "

Henrietta came to the place where he stood, and for the first timeperceived the full effect of her work. It was placed in front of thealtar, the dark crimson covering of which relieved the shining leavesand scarlet berries of the holly. The three letters, I H S, were inthe centre, formed of small sprays fastened in the required shape; andaround them was a large circle of holly, plaited and twined together, the many-pointed leaves standing out in every direction in theirpeculiar stiff gracefulness. 

"I see it now!" said she, in a low voice full of awe. "Uncle, I did notmean to make it so!"

"How?" he asked. 

"It is like Good Friday!" said she, as the resemblance to the crown ofthorns struck her more and more strongly. 

"Well, why not, my dear?" said her uncle, as she shrunk closer to him ina sort of alarm. "Would Christmas be worth observing if it were not forGood Friday?"

"Yes, it is right uncle; but somehow it is melancholy. "

"Where are those verses that say--let me see--

 'And still Thy Church's faith Shall link, In all her prayer and praise, Thy glory with Thy death. '

So you see, Henrietta, you have been guided to do quite right. "

Henrietta gave a little sigh, but did not answer: and Beatrice said, "It is a very odd thing, whenever any work of art--or, what shall I callit?--is well done, it is apt to have so much more in it than the authorintended. It is so in poetry, painting, and everything else. "

"There is, perhaps, more meaning than we understand, when we talk of thespirit in which a thing is done, " said her father: "But have you muchmore to do? Those columns look very well. "

"O, are you come to help us, papa?"

"I came chiefly because grandmamma was a good deal concerned at yournot coming home to luncheon. You must not be out the whole morning againjust at present. I have some sandwiches in my pocket for you. "

Beatrice explained how they had been fed, and her papa said, "Very well, we will find some one who will be glad of them; but mind, do not makeher think you unsociable again. Do you hear and heed?"

It was the sort of tone which, while perfectly kind and gentle, showsthat it belongs to a man who will be obeyed, and ready compliance waspromised. He proceeded to give his very valuable aid at once in tasteand execution, the adornment prospered greatly, and when Mr. Franklincame in, his surprise and delight were excited by the beauty whichhad grown up in his absence. The long, drooping, massive wreaths ofevergreen at the east end, centring in the crown and letters; the spiralfestoons round the pillars; the sprays in every niche; the tower ofholly over the font--all were more beautiful, both together and singly, than he had even imagined, and he was profuse in admiration and thanks. 

The work was done; and the two Misses Langford, after one well-satisfiedsurvey from the door, bent their steps homeward, looking forward to thepleasure with which grandpapa and Aunt Mary would see it to-morrow. Asthey went in the deepening twilight, the whole village seemed vocal:children's voices, shrill and tuneless near, but softened by distance, were ringing out here, there, and everywhere, with

"As shepherds watch'd their flocks by night. "

And again, as they walked on, the sound from another band of littlevoices was brought on the still frosty wind--

"Glad tidings of great joy I bring To you and all mankind. "

Imperfect rhymes, bad voices, no time observed; but how joyous, --howreally Christmas-like--how well it suited the soft half-light, the lastpale shine of sunset lingering in the south-west! the large solemn starsthat one by one appeared! How Uncle Geoffrey caught up the lines andsang them over to himself! How light and free Beatrice walked!--and howthe quiet happy tears would rise in Henrietta's eyes!

The singing in the drawing-room that evening, far superior as it was, with Henrietta, Beatrice, Frederick, and even Aunt Mary's beautifulvoice, was not equal in enjoyment to that. Was it because Beatrice wasteasing Fred all the time about his defection? The church singers cameup to the Hall, and the drawing-room door was set open for the partyto listen to them; grandpapa and Uncle Geoffrey went out to have a talkwith them, and so passed the space till tea-time; to say nothing of themany little troops of young small voices outside the windows, to whomMrs. Langford's plum buns, and Mr. Geoffrey's sixpences, were a veryenjoyable part of the Christmas festivities. 

CHAPTER VII. 

The double feast of Sunday and Christmas-day dawned upon Henrietta withmany anxieties for her mother, to whom the first going to church mustbe so great a trial. Would that she could, as of old, be at her side thewhole day! but this privilege, unrecked of at Rocksand, was no longerhers. She had to walk to church with grandmamma and the rest of theparty, while Mrs. Frederick Langford was driven in the open carriageby old Mr. Langford, and she was obliged to comfort herself withrecollecting that no companion ever suited her better than grandpapa. Itwas a sight to be remembered when she came into church, leaning upon hisarm, her sweet expression of peace and resignation, making her even morelovely than when last she entered there--her face in all its early bloomof youthful beauty, and radiant with innocent happiness. 

But Henrietta knew not how to appreciate that "peace which passeth allunderstanding;" and all that she saw was the glistening of tears in hereyes, and the heaving of her bosom, as she knelt down in her place; andshe thought that if she had calculated all that she would have to gothrough, and all her own anxieties for her, she should never have urgedtheir removal. She viewed it, however, as a matter of expediency ratherthan of duty, and her feelings were not in the only right and wholesomechannel. As on the former occasion, Knight Sutton Church seemed to hermore full of her father's presence than of any other, so now, throughoutthe service, she was chiefly occupied with watching her mother; andentirely by the force of her own imagination, she contrived to workherself into a state of nervous apprehension, only equalled by hermamma's own anxieties for Fred. 

Neither she nor any of her young cousins were yet confirmed, so they allleft the church together. What would she not have given to be able totalk her fears over with either Frederick or Beatrice, and be assuredby them that her mamma had borne it very well, and would not suffer fromit. But though neither of them was indifferent or unfeeling, there wasnot much likelihood of sympathy from them just at present. Beatrice hadalways been sure that Aunt Mary would behave like an angel; and whenFred saw that his mother looked tranquil, and showed no symptoms ofagitation, he dismissed anxiety from his mind, and never even guessed athis sister's alarms. 

Nor in reality had he many thoughts for his sister of any kind; for hewas, as usual, engrossed with Queen Bee, criticising the decorationswhich had been completed in his absence, and, together with Alex, replying to the scolding with which she visited their desertion. 

Nothing could have been more eminently successful than the decorations, which looked to still greater advantage in the brightness of the morningsun than in the dimness of the evening twilight; and many were thecompliments which the two young ladies received upon their handiwork. The old women had "never seen nothing like it, "--the school childrenwhispered to each other, "How pretty!" Uncle Geoffrey and Mr. Franklinadmired even more than before; grandpapa and Aunt Mary were delighted;grandmamma herself allowed it was much better than she had expected; andJessie Carey, by way of climax, said it "was like magic. "

It was a very different Sunday from those to which Henrietta had beenaccustomed, in the complete quiet and retirement of Rocksand. The Hallwas so far from the church, that there was but just time to get back intime for evening service. After which, according to a practice of whichshe had often heard her mamma speak with many agreeable reminiscences, the Langford family almost always went in a body on a progress to thefarmyard, to visit the fatting oxen and see the cows milked. 

Mrs. Roger Langford was at home with little Tom, and Mrs. FrederickLangford was glad to seek the tranquillity and repose of her ownapartment; but all the rest went in procession, greatly to the amusementof Fred and Henrietta, to the large barn-like building, where a narrowpath led them along the front of the stalls of the gentle-lookingsweet-breathed cows, and the huge white-horned oxen. 

Uncle Roger, as always happened, monopolised his brother, and kepthim estimating the weight of the great Devon ox, which was next forexecution. Grandmamma was escorting Charlie and Arthur (whom theirgrandfather was wont to call penultimus and antepenultimus), helpingthem to feed the cows with turnips, and guarding them from going behindtheir heels. Henrietta was extremely happy, for grandpapa himself wasdoing the honours for her, and instructing her in the difference betweena Guernsey cow and a short-horn; and so was Alexander, for he had QueenBee all to himself in a remote corner of the cow-house, rubbing oldspotted Nancy's curly brow, catching at her polished black-tipped horn, and listening to his hopes and fears for the next half year. Not soFrederick, as he stood at the door with Jessie Carey, who, having nolove for the cow-house, especially when in her best silk, thought alwaysready to take care of the children there, was very glad to secure acompanion outside, especially one so handsome, so much more polishedthan any of her cousins, and so well able to reply to her small talk. Little did she guess how far off he wished her, or how he longed to belistening to his uncles, talking to Beatrice, sticking holly into thecows' halters with John and Richard, scrambling into the hay-loft withCarey and William--anywhere, rather than be liable to the imputation ofbeing too fine a gentleman to enter a cow-house. 

This accusation never entered the head of any one but himself; but stillan attack was in store for him. After a few words to Martin the cowman, and paying their respects to the pigs, the party left the farm-yard, andthe inhabitants of Sutton Leigh took the path to their own abode, whileBeatrice turned round to her cousin, saying, "Well, Fred, I congratulateyou on your politeness! How well you endured being victimised!"

"I victimised! How do you know I was not enchanted?"

"Nay, you can't deceive me while you have a transparent face. Trust mefor finding out whether you are bored or not. Besides, I would not payso bad a compliment to your taste as to think otherwise. "

"How do you know I was not exercising the taste of Rubens himself? Iwas actually admiring you all, and thinking how like it all was to thatgreat print from one of his pictures; the building with its dark gloomyroof, and open sides, the twilight, the solitary dispersed snow-flakes, the haze of dust, the sleek cattle, and their long white horns. "

"Quite poetical, " said Queen Bee, in a short, dry, satirical manner. "How charmed Jessie must have been!"

"Why?" said Fred, rather provoked. 

"Such masterly eyes are not common among our gentlemen. You will bequite her phoenix; and how much 'Thomson's Seasons' you will have tohear! I dare say you have had it already--

 'Now, shepherds, to your helpless charge be kind!'"

"Well, very good advice, too, " said Fred. 

"I hate and detest Thomson, " said Beatrice; "above all, for travestyingRuth into 'the lovely young Lavinia;' so whenever Jessie treated me toany of her quotations, I criticised him without mercy, and at last Isaid, by great good luck, that the only use of him was to serve as animposition for young ladies at second-rate boarding schools. It was acapital hit, for Alex found out that it was the way she learnt so muchof him, and since that time I have heard no more of 'Jemmy Thomson!Jemmy Thomson! O!'"

The laughter which followed this speech had a tone in it, which, reaching Mr. Geoffrey Langford, who was walking a little in front withhis mother, made him suspect that the young people were getting intosuch spirits as were not quite Sunday-like; and, turning round, he askedthem some trifling question, which made him a party to the conversation, and brought it back to a quieter, though not less merry tone. 

Dinner was at five, and Henrietta was dressed so late that Queen Bee hadto come up to summon her, and bring her down after every one was in thedining-room--an entrée all the more formidable, because Mr. Franklin wasdining there, as well as Uncle Roger and Alexander. 

Thanks in some degree to her own dawdling, she had been in a hurry thewhole day, and she longed for a quiet evening: but here it seemed toher, as with the best intentions it usually is, in a large party, that, but for the laying aside of needlework, of secular books and secularmusic, it might as well have been any other day of the week. 

Her mamma was very tired, and went to bed before tea, the gentlemen hada long talk over the fire, the boys and Beatrice laughed and talked, andshe helped her grandmamma to hand about the tea, answering her questionsabout her mother's health and habits, and heard a good deal thatinterested her, but still she could not feel as if it were Sunday. At Rocksand she used to sit for many a pleasant hour, either in thedarkening summer twilight, or the bright red light of the winter fire, repeating or singing hymns, and enjoying the most delightful talks thatthe whole week had to offer, and now she greatly missed the conversationthat would have "set this strange week to rights in her head, " as shesaid to herself. 

She thought over it a good deal whilst Bennet was brushing her hair atnight, feeling as if it had been a week-day, and as if it would be asdifficult to begin a new fresh week on Monday morning, as it would anew day after sitting up a whole night. How far this was occasioned byKnight Sutton habits, and how far it was her own fault, was not what sheasked herself, though she sat up for a long time musing on the changein her way of life, and scarcely able to believe that it was only lastSunday that she had been sitting with her mother over their fire atRocksand. Enough had happened for a whole month. Her darling project wasfulfilled; the airy castle of former days had become a substance, andshe was inhabiting it: and was she really so very much happier? Thereshe went into a reverie--but musing is not meditating, nor vaguedreamings wholesome reflections; she went on sitting their, chieflyfor want of energy to move, till the fire burnt low, the clock strucktwelve, and Mrs. Frederick Langford exclaimed in a sleepy voice, "Mydear, are you going to sleep there?"

CHAPTER VIII. 

Breakfast was nearly over on Monday morning, when a whole party of theSutton Leigh boys entered with the intelligence that the great pond inKnight's Portion was quite frozen over, and that skating might beginwithout loss of time. 

"You are coming, are you not, Bee?" said Alex, leaning over the back ofher chair. 

"O yes, " said she, nearly whispering "only take care. It is taboothere, "--and she made a sign with her hand towards Mrs. Langford, "anddon't frighten Aunt Mary about Fred. O it is too late, Carey's doing thedeed as fast as he can. "

Carey was asking Fred whether he had ever skated, or could skate, andFred was giving an account of his exploits in that line at school, hoping it might prove to his mother that he might be trusted to takecare of himself since he had dared the danger before. In vain: thealarmed expression had come over her face, as she asked Alexanderwhether his father had looked at the ice. 

"No, " said Alex, "but it is perfectly safe. I tried it this morning, andit is as firm as this marble chimney-piece. "

"He is pretty well to be trusted, " said his grandfather, "moreespecially as it would be difficult to get drowned there. "

"I would give a shilling to anyone who could drown himself there, " saidAlex. 

"The travelling man did, " exclaimed at once Carey, John, and Richard. 

"Don't they come in just like the Greek chorus?" said Beatrice, in awhisper to Fred, who gave a little laugh, but was too anxious to attendto her. 

"I thought he was drowned in the river, " said Alex. 

"No, it was in the deep pool under the weeping willow, where theduckweed grows so rank in summer, " said Carey. 

Uncle Geoffrey laughed. "I am sorry to interfere with your romanticembellishments, Carey, or with the credit of your beloved pond, sinceyou are determined not to leave it behindhand with its neighbours. "

"I always thought it was there, " said the boy. 

"And thought wrong; the poor man was found in the river two miles off. "

"I always heard it was at Knight's Pool, " repeated Carey. 

"I do not know what you may have heard, " said Uncle Geoffrey; "but as ithappened a good while before you were born, I think you had better notargue the point. "

"Grandpapa, " persisted Carey, "was it not in Knight's Pool?"

"Certainly not, " was the answer drily given. 

"Well, " continued Carey, "I am sure you might drown yourself there. "

"Rather than own yourself mistaken, " said Uncle Geoffrey. 

"Carey, Carey, I hate contradiction, " said grandmamma, rising andrustling past where he stood with a most absurd, dogged, unconvincedface. "Take your arm off the mantelpiece, let that china cup alone, andstand like a gentleman. Do!"

"All in vain!" said Beatrice. "To the end of his life he will maintainthat Knight's Pool drowned the travelling man!"

"Well, never mind, " said John, impatiently, "are we coming to skate thismorning or are we not?"

"I really wish, " said Aunt Mary, as if she could not help it, "withoutdistrusting either old Knight's Pool or your judgment, Alexander, thatyou would ask some one to look at it. "

"I should like just to run down and see the fun, " said Uncle Geoffrey, thus setting all parties at rest for the moment. The two girls ranjoyfully up to put on their bonnets, as Henrietta wished to see, Beatrice to join in, the sport. At that instant Mrs. Langford askedher son Geoffrey to remove some obstacle which hindered the comfortableshutting of the door, and though a servant might just as well have doneit, he readily complied, according to his constant habit of making allelse give way to her, replying to the discomfited looks of the boys, "Ishall be ready by the time the young ladies come down. "

So he was, long before Henrietta was ready, and just as she and Beatriceappeared on the stairs, Atkins was carrying across the hall what theboys looked at with glances of dismay, namely, the post-bag. KnightSutton, being small and remote, did not possess a post-office, buta messenger came from Allonfield for the letters on every day exceptSunday, and returned again in the space of an hour. A very inconvenientarrangement, as everyone had said for the last twenty years, and mightprobably say for twenty years more. 

As usual, more than half the contents were for G. Langford, Esq. , and Fred's face grew longer and longer as he saw the closely-writtenbusiness-like sheets. 

"Fred, my poor fellow, " said his uncle, looking up, "I am sorry for you, but one or two must be answered by this day's post. I will not be longerthan I can help. "

"Then do let us come on, " exclaimed the chorus. 

"Come, Queenie, " added Alex. 

She delayed, however, saying, "Can I do any good, papa?"

"Thank you, let me see. I do not like to stop you, but it would savetime if you could just copy a letter. "

"O thank you, pray let me, " said Beatrice, delighted. "Go on, Henrietta, I shall soon come. "

Henrietta would have waited, but she saw a chance of speaking to herbrother, which she did not like to lose. 

Her mother had taken advantage of the various conversations going on inthe hall, to draw her son aside, saying, "Freddy, I believe you think mevery troublesome, but do let me entreat of you not to venture on the icetill one of your uncles has said it is safe. "

"Uncle Roger trusts Alex, " said Fred. 

"Yes, but he lets all those boys take their chance, and a number ofyou together are likely to be careless, and I know there used to bedangerous places in that pond. I will not detain you, my dear, " addedshe, as the others were preparing to start, "only I beg you will notattempt to skate till your uncle comes. "

"Very well, " said Frederick, in a tone of as much annoyance as ever heshowed his mother, and with little suspicion how much it cost her notto set her mind at rest by exacting a promise from him. This she hadresolutely forborne to do in cases like the present, from his earliestdays, and she had her reward in the implicit reliance she could placeon his word when once given. And now, sighing that it had not beenvoluntarily offered, she went to her sofa, to struggle and reason invain with her fears, and start at each approaching step, lest it shouldbring the tidings of some fatal accident, all the time blaming herselffor the entreaties which might, as she dreaded, place him in peril ofdisobedience. 

In a few moments Mr. Geoffrey Langford was sitting in the great redleathern chair in the study, writing as fast as his fingers would move, apparently without a moment for thought, though he might have said, likethe great painter, that what seemed the work of half an hour, was infact the labour of years. His daughter, her bonnet by her side, satopposite to him, writing with almost equal rapidity, and supremelyhappy, for to the credit of our little Queen Bee let it be spoken, thatno talk with Henrietta, no walk with grandpapa, no new exciting tale, no, not even a flirtation with Fred and Alex, one or both, was equal inher estimation to the pleasure and honour of helping papa, even thoughit was copying a dry legal opinion, instead of gliding about on thesmooth hard ice, in the bright winter morning's sunshine. 

The two pens maintained a duet of diligent scratching for some twentyor five and twenty minutes without intermission, but at last Beatricelooked up, and without speaking, held up her sheet. 

"Already? Thank you, my little clerk, I could think it was mamma. Nowthen, off to the skating. My compliments to Fred, and tell him I feelfor him, and will not keep him waiting longer than I can avoid:" andmuttering a resumption of his last sentence, on went the lawyer'sindefatigable pen; and away flew the merry little Busy Bee, bounding offwith her droll, tripping, elastic, short-stepped run, which suited sowell with her little alert figure, and her dress, a small plain blackvelvet bonnet, a tight black velvet "jacket, " as she called it, and abrown silk dress, with narrow yellow stripes (chosen chiefly in joke, because it was the colour of a bee), not a bit of superfluous shawl, boa, or ribbon about her, but all close and compact, fit for thediversion which she was eager to enjoy. The only girl among so manyboys, she had learnt to share in many of their sports, and one of theprime favourites was skating, a diversion which owes as much of itscharm to the caprices of its patron Jack Frost, as to the degree ofskill which it requires. 

She arrived at the stile leading to "Knight's Portion, " as it wascalled, and a very barren portion must the poor Knight have possessed ifit was all his property. It was a sloping chalky field or rather cornerof a down, covered with very short grass and thistles, which defiedall the attacks of Uncle Roger and his sheep. On one side was a sort ofprecipice, where the chalk had been dug away, and a rather extensive oldchalk pit formed a tolerable pond, by the assistance of the ditch at thefoot of a hedge. On the glassy surface already marked by many a sharplytraced circular line, the Sutton Leigh boys were careering, the youngerones with those extraordinary bends, twists, and contortions to whichthe unskilful are driven in order to preserve their balance. Frederickand Henrietta stood on the brink, neither of them looking particularlycheerful; but both turned gladly at the sight of the Busy Bee, and cameto meet her with eager inquiries for her papa. 

She was a very welcome sight to both, especially Henrietta, who had fromthe first felt almost out of place alone with all those boys, andwho hoped that she would be some comfort to poor Fred, who had beenentertaining her with every variety of grumbling for the last half-hour, and perversely refusing to walk out of sight of the forbidden pleasure, or to talk of anything else. Such a conversation as she was wishing forwas impossible whilst he was constantly calling out to the others, andexclaiming at their adventures, and in the intervals lamenting hisown hard fate, scolding her for her slowness in dressing, which hadoccasioned the delay, and magnifying the loss of his pleasure, perhapsin a sort of secret hope that the temptation would so far increase asto form in his eyes an excuse for yielding to it. Seldom had he shownhimself so unamiable towards her, and with great relief and satisfactionshe beheld her cousin descending the steep slippery path from the heightabove, and while the cloud began to lighten on his brow, she thought toherself, "It will be all right now, he is always happy with Busy Bee!"

So he might have been had Beatrice been sufficiently unselfish for onceto use her influence in the right direction, and surrender an amusementfor the sake of another; but to give up or defer such a pleasure asskating with Alex never entered her mind, though a moment's reflectionmight have shown her how much more annoying the privation would berendered by the sight of a girl fearlessly enjoying the sport from whichhe was debarred. It would, perhaps, be judging too hardly to reckonagainst her as a fault that her grandmamma could not bear to hear ofanything so "boyish, " and had long ago entreated her to be more like ayoung lady. There was no positive order in this case, and her papaand mamma did not object. So she eagerly answered Alexander's summons, fastened on her skates, and soon was gliding merrily on the surface ofthe Knight's Pool, while her cousins watched her dexterity with surpriseand interest; but soon Fred once more grew gloomy, sighed, groaned, looked at his watch, and recommenced his complaints. At first shehad occupation enough in attending to her own security to bestow anyattention on other things, but in less than a quarter of an hour, shebegan to feel at her ease, and her spirits rising to the pitch whereconsideration is lost, she "could not help, " in her own phrase, laughingat the disconsolate Fred. 

"How woebegone he looks!" said she, as she whisked past, "but nevermind, Fred, the post must go some time or other. "

"It must be gone, " said Fred. "I am sure we have been here above anhour!"

"Henrietta looks blue with cold, like an old hen obliged to follow herducklings to the water!" observed Beatrice, again gliding near, and inthe midst of her next circular sweep she chanted--

"Although their feet are pointed, and my feet are round, Pray, is thatany reason why I should be drowned?"

It was a great aggravation of Fred's calamities to be obliged to laugh, nor were matters mended by the sight of the party now advancing from thehouse, Jessie Carey, with three of the lesser boys. 

"What news of Uncle Geoffrey?"

"I did not see him, " said Jessie: "I think he was in the study, UncleRoger went to him there. "

"No hope then!" muttered the unfortunate Fred. 

"Can't you skate, Fred?" asked little Arthur with a certain mostprovoking face of wonder and curiosity. 

"Presently, " said Fred. 

"He must not, " cried Richard, in a tone which Fred thought malicious, though it was only rude. 

"Must not?" and Arthur looked up in amazement to the boy so much tallerthan his three brothers, creatures in his eyes privileged to do whatthey pleased. 

"His mamma won't let him, " was Dick's polite answer. Fred could haveknocked him down with the greatest satisfaction, but in the first placehe was out of reach, in the second, the young ladies were present, inthe third he was a little boy, and a stupid one, and Fred had temperenough left to see that there would be nothing gained by quarrellingwith him, so contenting himself with a secret but most ardent wish thathe had him as his fag at school, he turned to Jessie, and asked her whatshe thought of the weather, if the white frost would bring rain, &c. , &c. 

Jessie thought the morning too bright not to be doubtful, and the hoarfrost was so very thick and white that it was not likely to continuemuch longer. 

"How beautiful these delicate white crests are to every thorn in thehedge!" said Henrietta; "and look, these pieces of chalk are almostcased in glass. "

"O I do love such a sight!" said Jessie. "Here is a beautiful bit ofstick crusted over. "

"It is a perfect little Giant's Causeway, " said Henrietta; "do look atthese lovely little columns, Fred. "

"Ah!" said Jessie, "Myriads of little salts, or hook'd or shaped likedouble wedges. --"

She thought Beatrice safe out of hearing, but that very moment by shecame, borne swiftly along, and catching the cadence of that one line, looked archly at Fred, and shaped with her lips rather than uttered--"OJemmy Thomson! Jemmy Thomson, O!"

It filled up the measure. That Beatrice, Alexander and Chorus should bemaking him a laughing-stock, and him pinned to Miss Carey's side, wasmore than he could endure. He had made up his mind that Uncle Geoffreywas not coming at all, his last feeble hold of patience and obediencegave way, and he exclaimed, "Well, I shan't wait any longer, it is notof the least use. "

"O, Fred, consider!" said his sister. 

"That's right, Freddy, " shouted Carey, "he'll not come now, I'll answerfor it. "

"You know he promised he would, " pleaded Henrietta. 

"Uncle Roger has got hold of him, and he is as bad as the old man of thesea, " said Fred, "the post has been gone this half-hour, and I shall notwait any longer. "

"Think of mamma. "

"How can you talk such nonsense, Henrietta?" exclaimed Fred impatiently, "do you think that I am so awfully heavy that the ice that bears themmust needs break with me?"

"I do not suppose there is any danger, " said Henrietta, "but for thesake of poor mamma's entreaties!"

"Do you think I am going to be kept in leading-strings all the rest ofmy life?" said Fred, obliged to work himself into a passion in order tosilence his sister and his conscience. "I have submitted to such absurdnonsense a great deal too long already, I will not be made a fool of inthe sight of everybody; so here goes!"

And breaking away from her detaining arm, he ran down to the verge ofthe pond, and claimed the skates which he had lent to John. Henriettaturned away her eyes full of tears. 

"Never mind, Henrietta, " shouted the good-natured Alexander, "I'llengage to fish him out if he goes in. "

"It is as likely I may fish you out, Mr. Alex, " returned Fred, slightlyaffronted. 

"Or more likely still there will be no fishing in the case, " said thenaughty little Syren, who felt all the time a secret satisfaction in theconsciousness that it was she who had made the temptation irresistible, then adding, to pacify Henrietta and her own feelings of compunction, "Aunt Mary must be satisfied when she hears with what exemplary patiencehe waited till papa was past hope, and the pond past fear. "

Whether Alex smiled at the words "past fear, " or whether Fred onlythought he did, is uncertain, the effect was that he exclaimed, "I onlywish there was a place in this pond that you did not like to skate over, Alex. "

"Well, there is one, " said Alex, laughing, "where Carey drowns thetravelling man: there is a spring there, and the ice is never so firm, so you may try--"

"Don't, Fred--I beg you won't!" cried Beatrice. 

"O, Fred, Fred, think, think, if anything should happen!" imploredHenrietta. 

"I shan't look, I can't bear it!" exclaimed Jessie, turning away. 

Fred without listening skated triumphantly towards the hedge, and acrossthe perilous part, and fortunately it was without disaster. In themiddle of the shout of applause with which the chorus celebrated hisachievement, a gate in the hedge suddenly opened, and the two unclesstood before them. The first thing Uncle Geoffrey did was to take ashort run, and slide right across the middle of the pond, while UncleRoger stood by laughing and saying, "Well done, Geoffrey, you are notquite so heavy as I am. "

Uncle Geoffrey reaching the opposite side, caught up little Charley bythe arms and whirled him round in the air, then shouted in a voicethat had all the glee and blithe exultation of a boy just releasedfrom school, "I hereby certify to all whom it may concern, the pond isfranked! Where's Fred?"

Fred wished himself anywhere else, and so did Henrietta. Even QueenBee's complacency gave way before her father, and it was only Alexanderwho had spirit to answer, "We thought you were not coming at all. "

"Indeed!" said Uncle Geoffrey; and little Willy exclaimed, "Why, Alex, Uncle Geoffrey always comes when he promises, " a truth to which everyone gave a mental assent. 

Without taking the smallest notice of Frederick by word or look, UncleGeoffrey proceeded to join the other boys, to the great increase oftheir merriment, instructing them in making figures of eight, and in allthe other mysteries of the skating art, which they could scarcely enjoymore than he seemed to do. Henrietta, cold and unhappy, grieved at herbrother's conduct, and still more grieved at the displeasure of heruncle, wished to return to the house, yet could not make up her mindto do so, for fear of her mamma's asking about Fred; and whilst she wasstill doubting and hesitating, the Church bell began to ring, remindingher of the saint's day service, one of the delights of Knight Suttonto which she had so long looked forward. Yet here was anotherdisappointment. The uncles and the two girls immediately prepared to go. Jessie said she must take Arthur and Charley home, and set off. The boyscould do as they pleased, and Willy holding Uncle Geoffrey's hand wasgoing with him, but the rest continued their sport, and among them wasFred. He had never disobeyed a Church bell before, and had rather nothave done so now, but as he saw none of his male companions setting off, he fancied that to attend a week-day service in the holidays might bereckoned a girlish proceeding, imagined his cousins laughing at him assoon as his back was turned, and guessed from Uncle Geoffrey's gravelooks that he might be taken to task when no longer protected by thepresence of the rest. 

He therefore replied with a gruff short "No" to his sister's anxiousquestion whether he was not coming, and flourished away to the other endof the pond; but a few seconds after he was not a little surprised andvexed at finding himself mistaken after all--at least so far as regardedAlex, who had been only going on with his sport to the last moment, andnow taking off his skates, vaulted over the gate, and ran at full speedafter the rest of the party, overtaking them before they reached thevillage. 

Henrietta was sadly disappointed when, looking round at the sound offootsteps, she saw him instead of her brother. His refusal to go toChurch grieved her more than his disobedience, on which she did not ingeneral look with sufficient seriousness, and for which in the presentcase there were many extenuating circumstances, which she longed toplead to Uncle Geoffrey, who would, she thought, relax in his severitytowards her poor Fred, if he knew how long he had waited, and howmuch he had been teased. This, however, she could not tell him withoutcomplaining of his daughter, and in fact it was an additional painthat Queen Bee should have used all her powerful influence in the wrongdirection. 

It was impossible to be long vexed with the little Busy Bee, even insuch circumstances as these, especially when she came up to her, puther arm into hers, and looked into her face with all the sweetness thatcould sometimes reside in those brown features of hers, saying, "Mypoor Henrietta, I am afraid we have been putting you to torture all thistime, but you know that it is quite nonsense to be afraid of anythinghappening. "

"O yes, I know that, but really, Queenie, you should not have persuadedhim. "

"I? Well, I believe it was rather naughty of me to laugh at him, forpersuade him I did not, but if you had but seen him in the point I did, and known how absurd you two poor disconsolate creatures looked, youwould not have been able to help it. And how was I to know that he wouldgo into the only dangerous place he could find, just by way of bravado?I could have beaten myself when I saw that, but it is all safe, and noharm done. "

"There is your papa displeased with him. "

"O, I will settle that; I will tell him it was half of it my fault, andbeg him to say nothing about it. And as for Fred--I should like to makea charade of fool-hardy, with a personal application. Did you ever act acharade, Henrietta?"

"Never; I scarcely know what it is. "

"O charming, charming! What rare fun we will have! I wish I had not toldyou of fool-hardy, for now we can't have that, but this evening, O, thisevening, I am no Queen Bee if you do not see what will amaze you! Alex!Alex! Where is the boy? I must speak to you this instant. "

Pouncing upon Alexander, she drew him a little behind the others, andwas presently engaged in an eager low-voiced conference, apparentlypersuading him to something much against his inclination, but Henriettawas not sufficiently happy to bestow much curiosity on the subject. Allher thoughts were with Fred, and she had not long been in Church beforeall her mother's fears seemed to have passed to her. Her mother hadrecovered her serenity, and was able to trust her boy in the hands ofhis Heavenly Father, while Henrietta, haunted by the remembrance ofmany a moral tale, was tormenting herself with the expectation ofretribution, and dwelling on a fancied figure of her brother liftedsenseless out of the water, with closed eyes and dripping hair. 

CHAPTER IX. 

With all her faults, Queen Bee was a good-natured, generous littlething, and it was not what every one would have done, when, as soon asshe returned from Church, she followed her father to the study, saying, "Papa, you must not be displeased with Fred, for he was very muchplagued, and he only had just begun when you came. "

"The other boys had been teasing him?"

"Dick had been laughing at him, saying his mamma would not let him go onthe ice, and that, you know, was past all bearing. And honestly, it wasmy fault too; I laughed, not at that joke, of course, for it was onlyworthy of Dick himself, but at poor Fred's own disconsolate looks. "

"Was not his case unpleasant enough, without your making it worse?"

"Of course, papa, I ought to have been more considerate, but you knowhow easily I am run away with by high spirits. "

"And I know you have the power to restrain them, Beatrice. You have noright to talk of being run away with, as if you were helpless. "

"I know it is very wrong; I often think I will check myself, butthere are many speeches which, when once they come to my lips, areirresistible, or seem so. However, I will not try to justify myself; Iknow I was to blame, only you must not be angry with Fred, for it reallydid seem rather unreasonable to keep him there parading about withHenrietta and Jessie, when the ice was quite safe for everybody else. "

"I am not angry with him, Bee; I cannot but be sorry that he gave wayto the temptation, but there was so much to excuse him, that I shall notshow any further displeasure. He is often in a very vexatious positionfor a boy of his age. I can imagine nothing more galling than theserestraints. "

"And cannot you--" said Beatrice, stopping short. 

"Speak to your aunt? I will not make her miserable. Anything she thinksright she will do, at whatever cost to herself, and for that veryreason I will not interfere. It is a great deal better for Fred thathis amusement should be sacrificed to her peace, than her peace to hisamusement. "

"Yet surely this cannot go on for life, " said Beatrice, as if she washalf afraid to hazard the remark. 

"Never mind the future. She will grow more used to the other boys, andgain more confidence in Fred. Things will right themselves, if we donot set them wrong. And now, mark me. You are not a mere child, who canplead the excuse of thoughtlessness for leading him into mischief;you know the greatness of the sin of disobedience, and the fearfulresponsibility incurred by conducing to it in others. Do not help tolead him astray for the sake of--of vanity--of amusement. "

Something in the manner in which he pronounced these words conveyed toBeatrice a sense of the emptiness and worthlessness of her motives, and she answered earnestly, "I was wrong, papa; I know it is a love ofsaying clever things that often leads me wrong. It was so to-day, forI could have stopped myself, but for the pleasure of making fun. It isvanity, and I will try to subdue it. "

Beatrice had a sort of candid way of reasoning about her faults, andwould blame herself, and examine her motives in a manner which disarmedreproof by forestalling it. She was perfectly sincere, yet it wasself-deception, for it was not as if it was herself whom she wasanalysing, but rather as if it was some character in a book; indeed, shewould have described herself almost exactly as she is here described, except that her delineation would have been much more clever and moreexact. She would not have spared herself--for this reason, that herown character was more a study to her than a reality, her faults rathercircumstances than sins; it was her mind, rather than her soul, thatreflected and made resolutions, or more correctly, what would have beenresolutions, if they had possessed any real earnestness, and not beendone, as it were, mechanically, because they became the occasion. 

The conversation was concluded by the sound of the luncheon bell, andshe ran up to take off her bonnet, her thoughts taking the followingcourse: "I am very sorry; it is too bad to tease poor Fred, cruel andwrong, and all that, only if he would not look absurd! It is too drollto see how provoked he is, when I take the least notice of Alex, andafter all, I don't think he cares for me half as much as Alex does, onlyit flatters his vanity. Those great boys are really quite as vain asgirls, not Alex though, good downright fellow, who would do anything forme, and I have put him to a hard proof to-night. What a capital thoughtthose charades are! Fred will meet the others on common, nay, onsuperior ground, and there will be none of these foolish questions whocan be most manly mad. Fred is really a fine spirited fellow though, andI thought papa could not find it in his heart to be angry with him. Howcapitally he will act, and how lovely Henrietta will look! I must makethem take to the charades, it will be so very delightful, and keep Fredquite out of mischief, which will set Aunt Mary at ease. And how amusedgrandpapa will be! What shall it be to-night? What Alex can manage toact tolerably. Ce n'est que le premier pas qui conte, and the premierpas must be with our best foot foremost. I give myself credit for thethought; it will make all smooth. "

These meditations occupied her during a hasty toilette and a still morerapid descent, and were abruptly concluded by her alighting from herswinging jump down the last four steps close to Fred himself, who wasstanding by the hall fire with a gloomy expression of countenance, which with inconsiderate good nature she hastened to remove. "Don't lookdismal, Freddy; I have told papa all about it, and he does not mind it. Cheer up, you adventurous knight, I have some glorious fun for you thisevening. "

Not mind it! The impression thus conveyed to one but too willing toreceive it, was that Uncle Geoffrey, that external conscience, thoughthim excused from attending to unreasonable prohibitions. Away went allthe wholesome self-reproach which he had begun to feel, away went allfear of Uncle Geoffrey's eye, all compunction in meeting his mother, and he entered the dining-room in such lively spirits that his unclewas vexed to see him so unconcerned, and his mother felt sure that herentreaty had not been disregarded. She never heard to the contrary, forshe liked better to trust than to ask questions, and he, like far toomany boys, did not think concealment blameable where there was no actualfalsehood. 

All the time they were at table, Queen Bee was in one of her states ofwild restlessness, and the instant she was at liberty she flew away, and was seen no more that afternoon, except in certain flittings intodifferent apartments, where she appeared for a moment or two with someextraordinary and mysterious request. First she popped upon grandpapa, and with the expense of a little coaxing and teasing, obtained from himthe loan of his Deputy-Lieutenant's uniform; then she darted into thedrawing-room, on hearing Uncle Roger's voice, and conjured him not toforget to give a little note to Alex, containing these words, "Willymust wear his cap without a peak. Bring Roger's dirk, and above all, beg, borrow, or steal, Uncle Roger's fishing boots. " Her next descentwas upon Aunt Mary, in her own room: "Aunt, would you do me a greatfavour, and ask no questions, nor tell Henrietta? Do just lend me thethree little marabout feathers which you had in your cap yesterdayevening. Only for this one evening, and I'll take great care. "

"I am sure, my dear, you are very welcome to them; I do not feel likemyself in such finery, " said Mrs. Frederick Langford, smiling, asBeatrice took possession of the elegant little white cap, which she hadthe discretion to carry to Bennet, its lawful protector, to be bereftof its plumed honours. Bennet, an old friend of nursery days, was inthe secret of her plans for the evening; her head-quarters were in thework-room, which had often served her as a playroom in days gone by, andJudith, gratified by a visit from "Miss Bee, " dived for her sake intoboxes and drawers, amid hoards where none but Judith would have dared torummage. 

All this might ultimately be for Henrietta's entertainment, but atpresent it did not much conduce towards it, as she was left to her ownresources in the drawing-room. She practised a little, worked a little, listened to a consultation between grandpapa and Uncle Roger, about thenew pig-sty, wrote it down in her list when they went into the study toask Uncle Geoffrey's advice, tried to talk over things in general withher mamma, but found it impossible with grandmamma continually comingin and out of the room, yawned, wondered what Busy Bee was about, feltdeserted, gave up work, and had just found an entertaining book, whengrandmamma came in, and invited her to visit the poultry yard. Shereadily accepted, but for want of Queen Bee to hurry her, kept hergrandmamma waiting longer than she liked, and had more of a scoldingthan was agreeable. The chickens were all gone to roost by the time theyarrived, the cock just peering down at them with his coral-bordered eye, and the ducks waddling stealthily in one by one, the feeding was over, the hen-wife gone, and Mrs. Langford vexed at being too late. 

Henrietta was annoyed with herself and with the result of the day, butshe had some consolation, for as they were going towards the house, they met Mr. Langford, who called out, "So you have been walking withgrandmamma! Well, if you are not tired, come and have a little turn withgrandpapa. I am going to speak to Daniels, the carpenter, and my 'merryChristmas' will be twice as welcome to his old father, if I take youwith me. "

Henrietta might be a little tired, but such an invitation was not to berefused, and she was at her grandpapa's side in an instant, thanking himso much that he laughed and said the favour was to him. "I wish we hadFred here too, " said he, as they walked on, "the old man will be veryglad to see you. "

"Was he one of mamma's many admirers in the village?"

"All the village admired Miss Mary, but it was your father who wasold Daniels' chief friend. The boys used to have a great taste forcarpentry, especially your father, who was always at his elbow when hewas at work at the Hall. Poor old man, I thought he would never haveheld up his head again when our great trouble came on us. He used totouch his hat, and turn away without looking me in the face. And thereyou may see stuck up over the chimney-piece in his cottage the newchisel that your father gave him when he had broken his old one. "

"Dear old man!" said Henrietta, warmly, "I am so very glad that we havecome here, where people really care for us, and are interested in us, and not for our own sake. How delightful it is! I feel as if we werecome out of banishment. "

"Well, it is all the better for you, " said Mr. Langford; "if we hadhad you here, depend upon it, we should have spoilt you. We have so fewgranddaughters that we cannot help making too much of them. There isthat little Busy Bee--by the by, what is her plan this evening, or arenot you in her secret?"

"O no, I believe she is to surprise us all. I met her just before I cameout dragging a huge bag after her: I wanted to help her, but she wouldnot let me. "

"She turns us all round her finger, " said grandpapa. "I never found theperson who could resist Queen Bee, except grandmamma. But I am glad youdo not take after her, Henrietta, for one such grandchild is enough, andit is better for woman-kind to have leadable spirits than leading. "

"O, grandpapa!"

"That is a dissentient O. What does it mean? Out with it. "

"Only that I was thinking about weakness; I beg your pardon, grandpapa. "

"Look here!" and Mr. Langford bent the slender cane in his hand (hedisdained a stronger walking-stick) to its full extent of suppleness. "Is this weak?"

"No, it is strong in energy, " said Henrietta, laughing, as the elasticcane sprang back to its former shape. 

"Yet to a certain point you can bend it as far as you please. Well, thatshould be the way with you: be turned any way but the wrong, and letyour own determination be only to keep upright. "

"But women are admired for influence. "

"Influence is a good thing in its way, but only of a good sort when itis unconscious. At any rate, when you set to work to influence people, take care it is only with a view to their good, and not to your ownpersonal wishes, or influencing becomes a dangerous trade, especiallyfor young ladies towards their elders. "

Grandpapa, who had only seen Henrietta carried about by Beatrice, grandmamma, or Fred, and willing to oblige them all, had little idea howapplicable to her case was his general maxim, nor indeed did she at themoment take it to herself, although it was one day to return upon her. It brought them to the neat cottage of the carpenter, with the thatchedworkshop behind, and the garden in front, which would have looked neatbut for the melancholy aspect of the frost-bitten cabbages. 

This was Henrietta's first cottage visit, and she was all eagernessand interest, picturing to herself a venerable old man, almost asfine-looking as her grandfather, and as eloquent as old men in cottagesalways are in books; but she found it rather a disappointing meeting. Itwas a very nice trim-looking daughter-in-law who opened the door, onMr. Langford's knock, and the room was neatness itself, but the oldcarpenter was not at all what she had imagined. He was a little stoopingold man, with a shaking head, and weak red eyes under a green shade, anddid not seem to have anything to say beyond "Yes, sir, " and "Thankyou, sir, " when Mr. Langford shouted into his deaf ears some ofthe "compliments of the season. " Looking at the young lady, whom heevidently mistook for Beatrice, he hoped that Mr. And Mrs. Geoffrey werequite well. His face lighted up a little for a moment when Mr. Langfordtold him this was Mr. Frederick's daughter, but it was only for aninstant, and in a somewhat querulous voice he asked if there was not ayoung gentleman too. 

"O yes, " said Mr. Langford, "he shall come and see you some day. "

"He would not care to see a poor old man, " said Daniels, turning alittle away, while his daughter-in-law began to apologise for him bysaying, "He is more lost than usual to-day, sir; I think it was gettingtired going to church, yesterday morning; he did not sleep well, and hehas been so fretful all the morning, a body did not know what to do withhim. "

Mr. Langford said a few more cheerful words to the poor old man, thenasked the daughter where her husband was, and, hearing that he was inthe workshop, refused offers of fetching him in, and went out to speakto him, leaving Henrietta to sit by the fire and wait for him. A wearywaiting time she found it; shy as she was of poor people, as of a classwith whom she was utterly unacquainted, feeling bound to make herselfagreeable, but completely ignorant how to set about it, wishing to talkto the old man, and fearing to neglect him, but finding conversationquite impossible except with Mrs. Daniels, and not very easy withher--she tried to recollect what storied young ladies did say to oldmen, but nothing she could think of would do, or was what she could findherself capable of saying. At last she remembered, in "Gertrude, " theold nurse's complaint that Laura did not inquire after the rheumatism, and she hazarded her voice in expressing a hope that Mr. Daniels did notsuffer from it. Clear as the sweet voice was, it was too tremulous (forshe was really in a fright of embarrassment) to reach the old man'sear, and his daughter-in-law took it upon her to repeat the inquiry ina shrill sharp scream, that almost went through her ears; then whilethe old man was answering something in a muttering maundering way, sheproceeded with a reply, and told a long story about his ways with thedoctor, in her Sussex dialect, almost incomprehensible to Henrietta. Theconversation dropped, until Mrs. Daniels began hoping that every one atthe Hall was quite well, and as she inquired after them one by one, this took up a reasonable time; but then again followed a silence. Mrs. Daniels was not a native of Knight Sutton, or she would have had more tosay about Henrietta's mother; but she had never seen her before, and hadnone of that interest in her that half the parish felt. Henrietta wishedthere had been a baby to notice, but she saw no trace in the room of theexistence of children, and did not like to ask if there were any. Shelooked at the open hearth, and said it was very comfortable, and wastold in return that it made a great draught, and smoked very much. Thenshe bethought herself of admiring an elaborately worked frame sampler, that hung against the wall; and the conversation this supplied lastedher till, to her great joy, grandpapa made his appearance again, andsummoned her to return, as it was already growing very dark. 

She thought he might have made something of an apology for thedisagreeableness of his friend; but, being used to it, and forgettingthat she was not, he did no such thing; and she was wondering thatcottage visiting could ever have been represented as so pleasant anoccupation, when he began on a far more interesting subject, askingabout her mother's health, and how she thought Knight Sutton agreed withher, saying how very glad he was to have her there again, and how likehis own daughter she had always been. He went on to tell of his firstsight of his two daughters-in-law, when, little guessing that they wouldbe such, he went to fetch home the little Mary Vivian, who had come fromIndia under the care of General St. Leger. "There they were, " said he;"I can almost see them now, as their black nurse led them in; your aunta brown little sturdy thing, ready to make acquaintance in a moment, and your mamma such a fair, shrinking, fragile morsel of a child, that Ifelt quite ashamed to take her among all my great scrambling boys. "

"Ah! mamma says her recollection is all in bits and scraps; sherecollects the ship, and she remembers sitting on your knee in acarriage; but she cannot remember either the parting with Aunt Geoffreyor the coming here. "

"I do not remember about the parting with Aunt Geoffrey; they managedthat in the nursery, I believe, but I shall never forget the boysreceiving her, --Fred and Geoffrey, I mean, --for Roger was at school. Howthey admired her like some strange curiosity, and played with her likea little girl with a new doll. There was no fear that they would be toorough with her, for they used to touch her as if she was made of glass. And what a turn out of old playthings there was in her service!"

"That was when she was six, " said Henrietta, "and papa must have beenten. "

"Yes, thereabouts, and Geoffrey a year younger. How they did pet her!and come down to all their old baby-plays again for her sake, till I wasalmost afraid that cricket and hockey would be given up and forgotten. "

"And were they?"

"No, no, trust boys for that. Little Mary came to be looker on, if shedid not sometimes play herself. She was distressed damsel, and theyknight and giant, or dragon, or I cannot tell what, though many's thetime I have laughed over it. Whatever they pleased was she: never livedcreature more without will of her own. "

"Never, " responded Henrietta; but that for which Mr. Langfordmight commend his little Mary at seven years old, did not appear soappropriate a subject of observation in Mrs. Frederick Langford, and byher own daughter. 

"Eh!" said her grandfather. Then answering his mental objection inanother tone, "Ay, ay, no will for her own pleasure; that depends moreon you than on any one else. "

"I would do anything on earth for her!" said Henrietta, feeling it fromthe bottom of her heart. 

"I am sure you would, my dear, " said Mr. Langford, "and she deserves it. There are few like her, and few that have gone through so much. To thinkof her as she was when last she was here and to look at her now! Well, it won't do to talk of it; but I thought when I saw her face yesterday, that I could see, as well as believe, it was all for the best for her, as I am sure it was for us. "

He was interrupted just as they reached the gate by the voice of hiseldest son calling "Out late, sir, " and looking round, Henrietta sawwhat looked in the darkness like a long procession, Uncle and AuntRoger, and their niece, and all the boys, as far down as William, comingto the Hall for the regular Christmas dinner-party. 

Joining company, Henrietta walked with Jessie and answered her inquirieswhether she had got wet or cold in the morning; but it was in an absentmanner, for she was all the time dwelling on what her grandfather hadbeen saying. She was calling up in imagination the bright scenes of hermother's youth; those delightful games of which she had often heard, andwhich she could place in their appropriate setting now that she knew thescenes. She ran up to her room, where she found only Bennet, her motherhaving dressed and gone down; and sitting down before the fire, andresigning her curls to her maid, she let herself dwell on the ideas theconversation had called up, turning from the bright to the darker side. She pictured to herself the church, the open grave, her uncles and hergrandfather round it, the villagers taking part in their grief, the oldcarpenter's averted head--she thought what must have been the agony ofthe moment, of laying in his untimely grave one so fondly loved, on whomthe world was just opening so brightly, --and the young wife--theinfant children--how fearful it must have been! "It was almost a crueldispensation, " thought Henrietta. "O, how happy and bright we might havebeen! What would it not have been to hold by his hand, to have his kiss, to look for his smile! And mamma, to have had her in all her joyousnessand blitheness, with no ill health, and no cares! O, why was it not so?And yet grandpapa said it was for the best! And in what a manner he didsay it, as if he really felt and saw, and knew the advantage of it!To dear papa himself I know it was for the best, but for us, mamma, grandpapa--no, I never shall understand it. They were good before; whydid they need punishment? Is this what is called saying 'Thy will bedone?' Then I shall never be able to say it, and yet I ought!"

"Your head a little higher, if you please, Miss Henrietta, " said Bennet;"it is that makes me so long dressing you, and your mamma has beentelling me that I must get you ready faster. "

Henrietta slightly raised her head for the moment, but soon let it sinkagain in her musings, and when Bennet reminded her, replied, "I can't, Bennet, it breaks my neck. " Her will was not with her mother's, in atrifling matter of which the reasonableness could not but approve itselfto her. How, then, was it likely to be bent to that of her HeavenlyParent, in what is above reason?

The toilet was at length completed, and in time for her to be handedin to dinner by Alexander, an honour which she owed to Beatrice havingalready been secured by Frederick, who was resolved not to be againabandoned to Jessie. Alex did not favour her with much conversation, partly because he was thinking with perturbation of the task set him forthe evening, and partly because he was trying to hear what Queen Bee wassaying to Fred, in the midst of the clatter of knives and forks, and theloud voice of Mr. Roger Langford, which was enough to drown most othersounds. Some inquiries had been made about Mrs. Geoffrey Langford andher aunt, Lady Susan St. Leger, which had led Beatrice into a greatlamentation for her mother's absence, and from thence into a descriptionof what Lady Susan exacted from her friends. "Aunt Susan is a regularfidget, " said she; "not such a fidget as some people, " with anindication of Mrs. Langford. "Some people are determined to make otherscomfortable in a way of their own, and that is a fidget to be regardedwith considerable respect; but Aunt Susan's fidgeting takes the turnof sacrificing the comfort of every one else to her own and her littledog's. "

"But that is very hard on Aunt Geoffrey, " said Fred. 

"Frightfully. Any one who was less selfish would have insisted onmamma's coming here, instead of which Aunt Susan only complains of hersister and brother, and everybody else, for going out of London, whenshe may be taken suddenly ill at any time. She is in such a nervousstate that Mr. Peyton cannot tell what might be the consequence, " saidBeatrice, in an imitative tone, which made Fred laugh. 

"I am sure I should leave her to take care of herself, " said he. 

"So do the whole family except ourselves; they are all worn out byher querulousness, and are not particularly given to patience orunselfishness either. But mamma is really fond of her, because she waskind to her when she came home from India, and she manages to keep herquiet better than anyone else can. She can very seldom resist mamma'scheerful voice, which drives off half her nerves at once. You cannotthink how funny it is to see how Aunt Amelia always seems to stroke thecat the wrong way, and mamma to smooth her down the right. "

A lull in the conversation left these last words audible, and Mr. Langford said, "What is that about stroking the cat, Queenie?"

"O you are telling it all--O don't, Bee!" cried Willy. 

And with certain jokes about cats and bags, which seemed excessively todiscomfit Willy, who protested the cat was not in the bag at all--itwas the partridges--the conversation drifted away again from the youngerparty. 

As soon as dinner was over, Beatrice again disappeared, after beggingher grandmamma to allow the great Indian screen to remain as it atpresent stood, spread out so as to cut off one end of the room, wherethere was a door opening into the study. Behind this screen frequentrustlings were heard, with now and then a burst of laughing orwhispering, and a sound of moving furniture, which so excited Mrs. Langford, that, starting up, she exclaimed that she must go and see whatthey were doing. 

"We are taking great care, grandmamma, " called Alexander. "We won't hurtit. "

This, by showing so far that there was something to be hurt, was so farfrom reassuring her, that she would certainly have set out on a voyageof discovery, but for Mr. Langford, who professed himself convinced thatall was right, and said he would not have the Busy Bee disturbed. 

She came in to tea, bringing Alex and Willy with her--the latter, in amarvellous state of mystery and excitement, longing to tell all himself, and yet in great terror lest the others should tell. 

As soon as the tea was despatched, the three actors departed, andpresently there was a call from behind the screen, "Are you ready, goodpeople?"

"Go it, " answered Carey. 

"Are the elders ready?" said Beatrice's voice. 

"Papa, don't go on talking to Uncle Geoffrey!" cried Willy. 

"Ay, ay, all attention, " said grandpapa. "Now for it!"

The screen was folded back, and discovered Alex in a pasteboard crown, ermine tippet, and purple mantle, sitting enthroned with Beatrice (atiara and feathers on her head) at his side, and kneeling before thema nondescript article, consisting chiefly of a fur cloak, a fur cap, adorned with a pair of grey squirrel cuffs, sewn ingeniously into theform of ears, a boa by way of tail, and an immense pair of boots. As Uncle Geoffrey said, the cat was certainly out of the bag, and itproceeded in due form to take two real partridges from the bag, andpresent them to the king and princess in the name of the MarquisCarabbas. 

The king and princess made some consultation as to who the marquismight be, the princess proposing to send for the Peerage, and the kingcross-examining puss in an incredulous way which greatly puzzled him, until at last he bethought himself of exclaiming, in a fierce manner, "I've told you the truth, Mr. King, and if you won't believe me, I can'thelp it!" and walked off on his hind legs in as dignified and resentfula manner as his boots would let him; repairing to the drawing-room tohave his accoutrements admired, while the screen was again spread inpreparation for Scene II. 

Scene II. Presented but a half-length, a shawl being hung in front, soas to conceal certain incongruities. A great arm-chair was wheeled closeto the table, on which stood an aged black jack out of the hall, a quartmeasure, and a silver tankard; while in the chair, a cushion on hishead, and a great carving-knife held like a sceptre in his hand, reclined Alex, his bulk enlarged by at least two pillows, over which anold, long-breasted white satin waistcoat, embroidered with silver, hadwith some difficulty been brought to meet. Before him stood a littlefigure in a cloth cap, set jauntily on one side, decorated with a fox'sbrush, and with Mrs. Frederick Langford's three feathers, and a coatbearing marvellous resemblance to Beatrice's own black velvet spencer, crossed over one shoulder by a broad blue ribbon, which Henrietta knewfull well. "Do thou stand for my father, " began this droll little shape, "and examine me in the particulars of my life. "

It was not badly carried out; Prince Henry, when he did not giggle, acted beautifully; and Falstaff really did very well, though his eyeswere often directed downwards, and the curious, by standing on tiptoe, obtained not only a view of Prince Hal's pink petticoat, but of a greatShakespeare laid open on the floor; and a very low bow on the part ofthe heir apparent, when about to change places with his fat friend, wasstrongly suspected of being for the purpose of turning over a leaf. Itwas with great spirit that the parting appeal was given, "Banish fatJack, and banish all the world!" And there was great applause when fatJack and Prince Hal jumped up and drew the screen forward again;though Uncle Geoffrey and Aunt Mary were cruel enough to utter certainhistorical and antiquarian doubts as to whether the Prince of Wales waslikely to wear the three feathers and ribbon of the garter in his hauntsat Eastcheap. 

In the concluding scene the deputy lieutenant's uniform made a greatfigure, with the addition of the long-breasted waistcoat, a white scarf, and the white cockade, adorning Alex, who, with a boot-jack under hisarm, looked as tall and as rigid as he possibly could, with a very lowbow, which was gracefully returned by a royal personage in a Scottishbonnet, also bearing the white cockade, a tartan scarf, and the blueribbon. Altogether, Prince Charles Edward and the Baron of Bradwardinestood confessed; the character was solemnly read, and the shoe pulledoff, or supposed to be, as the lower screen still remained to cut offthe view; and then the Baron indulged in a lengthy yawn and stretch, while Prince Charlie, skipping into the midst of the audience, dancedround Mr. Langford, asking if he had guessed it. 

CHAPTER X. 

Beatrice had not judged amiss when she thought charade-acting anamusement likely to take the fancy of her cousins. The great success ofher boot-jack inspired both Frederick and Henrietta with eagerness toimitate it; and nothing was talked of but what was practicable in theway of scenes, words, and decorations. The Sutton Leigh party wereto dine at the Hall again on Thursday, and it was resolved that thereshould be a grand charade, with all the splendour that due preparationcould bestow upon it. "It was such an amusement to grandpapa, " asBeatrice told Henrietta, "and it occupied Fred so nicely, " as shesaid to her father; both which observations being perfectly true, Mr. Geoffrey Langford was very willing to promote the sport, and totranquillise his mother respecting the disarrangement of her furniture. 

But what should the word be? Every one had predilections of theirown--some for comedy, others for tragedy; some for extemporary acting, others for Shakespeare. Beatrice, with her eye for drawing, alreadygrouped her dramatis personae, so as to display Henrietta's picturesqueface and figure to the greatest advantage, and had designs of making herand Fred represent Catherine and Henry Seyton, whom, as she said, shehad always believed to be exactly like them. Fred was inclined for"another touch at Prince Hal, " and devised numerous ways of actingAnonymous, for the sake of "Anon, anon, sir. " Henrietta wanted tocontrive something in which Queen Bee might appear as an actual fairybee, and had very pretty visions of making her a beneficent spirit in alittle fanciful opera, for which she had written three or four verses, when Fred put an end to it be pronouncing it "nonsense and humbug. "

So passed Tuesday, without coming to any decision, and Henrietta wasbeginning to fear that they would never fix at all, when on Wednesdaymorning Beatrice came down in an ecstasy with the news, that by somechance a wig of her papa's was in the house, and a charade they must andwould have which would bring in the wig. "Come and see it, " said she, drawing her two cousins into the study after breakfast: the study beingthe safest place for holding counsel on these secret subjects. "Therenow, is it not charming? O, a law charade we must have, that iscertain!"

Fred and Henrietta, who had never chanced to see a barrister's wigbefore, were greatly diverted with its little tails, and tried it on inturn. While Henrietta was in the midst of her laugh at the sight ofher own fair ringlets hanging out below the tight grey rolls, the doorsuddenly opened, and gave entrance to its owner, fiercely exclaiming, "What! nothing safe from you, you impertinent kittens?"

"O, Uncle Geoffrey, I beg your pardon!" cried Henrietta, blushingcrimson. 

"Don't take it off till I have looked at you, " said Uncle Geoffrey. "Why, you would make a capital Portia!"

"Yes, yes!" cried Queen Bee, "that is it: Portia she shall be, and I'llbe Nerissa. "

"Oh, no, Queenie, I could never be Portia!" said Henrietta: "I am sure Ican't. "

"But I have set my heart on being the 'little scrubby lawyer's clerk, '"said Busy Bee; "it is what I am just fit for; and let me see--Fred shallbe Antonio, and that will make you plead from your very heart, and youshall have Alex for your Bassanio. "

"But the word. Do you mean to make it fit in with Falstaff and CatherineSeyton?" said Henrietta. 

"Let me see, " said Beatrice; "bond--bondage, jew--jeweller, juniper, --"

"Lawsuit, " said Fred. "Ay, don't you see, all the scenes would come outof the 'Merchant of Venice. ' There is 'law' when the old Jew is cryingout for his ducats, and--but halloo!" and Fred stood aghast at the sightof his uncle, whose presence they had all forgotten in their eagerness. 

"Traitor!" said Beatrice; "but never mind, I believe we must have lethim into the plot, for nobody else can be Shylock. "

"O, Bee, " whispered Henrietta, reproachfully, "don't tease him with ournonsense. Think of asking him to study Shylock's part, when he has allthat pile of papers on the table. "

"Jessica, my girl, Look to my house. I am right loth to go; There issome ill a-brewing to my rest, For I did dream of money-bags to-night. "

Such was Uncle Geoffrey's reply; his face and tone so suddenly alteredto the snarl of the old Jew, that his young companions at first started, and then clapped their hands in delighted admiration. 

"Do you really know it all?" asked Henrietta, in a sort of respectfulawe. 

"It won't cost me much trouble to get it up, " said Mr. GeoffreyLangford; "Shylock's growls stick in one's memory better than finerspeeches. "

"Then will you really be so very kind?"

"Provided you will leave the prompter of Monday night on the tablethis morning, " said Uncle Geoffrey, smiling in that manner which, to acertain degree, removed any feeling of obligation, by making it seem asif it was entirely for his own diversion. Nor could it be denied that hedid actually enjoy it. 

The party took up their quarters in the study, which really was the onlyplace fit for consultations and rehearsals, since Fred and Alexcould not be taken to the maids' workroom, and none of the downstairsapartments could be made subject to the confusion incidental to theirpreparations. Henrietta had many scruples at first about disturbingUncle Geoffrey, but his daughter laughed at them all; and they were soonat an end when she perceived that he minded their chattering, spouting, and laughing, no more than if they had been so many little sparrowstwittering on the eaves, but pursued the even tenor of his writinguninterruptedly, even while she fitted on his head a yellow pointed cap, which her ingenious fingers had compounded of the lining of certain uglyold curtains. 

His presence in this silent state served, too, as a protection in Mrs. Langford's periodical visitations to stir the fire; but for him, shewould assuredly have found fault, and probably Beatrice would havecome to a collision with her, which would have put an end to the wholescheme. 

It formed a considerable addition to Henrietta's list of his avocations, and really by making the utmost of everything he did for other peopleduring that whole week, she made the number reach even to seventy-nineby the next Thursday morning. The most noted of these employments werethe looking over a new Act of Parliament with the county member, thecuring grandmamma's old gander of a mysterious lameness, the managingof an emigration of a whole family to New Zealand, the guessing a riddlesupposed "to have no answer, " and the mending of some extraordinaryspring that was broken in Uncle Roger's new drill. Beatrice was charmedwith the list; Aunt Mary said it was delightful to be so precious toevery one; and grandpapa, shaking his head at his son, said he wasashamed to find that his family contained such a Jack of all trades; towhich Uncle Geoffrey replied, that it was too true that "all work and noplay make Jack a very dull boy. "

The breaking up of the frost, with a succession of sleet, snow andrain, was much in favour of Beatrice and her plans, by taking awayall temptation from the boys to engage in out-of-door amusements; andAntonio and Bassanio studied their parts so diligently, that Careywas heard to observe that it might just as well be half year. They hadbesides their own proper parts, to undertake those of the Princes ofArragon and Morocco, since Queen Bee, willing to have as much of Nerissaas possible, had determined to put their choice, and that of Bassanio, all into the one scene belonging to "suit. " It was one of thoseoccasions on which she showed little consideration, for she thus gavePortia an immense quantity to learn in only two days; persuading herselfall the time that it was no such hard task, since the beautifulspeech about mercy Henrietta already knew by heart, and she madeno difficulties about the rest. Indeed, Beatrice thought herselfexcessively amiable in doing all she could to show off her cousin'sbeauty and acting, whilst taking a subordinate part herself; forgettingthat humility is not shown in choosing a part, but in taking willinglythat which is assigned us. 

Henrietta was rather appalled at the quantity she had to learn, as wellas at the prominent part she was to take; but she did not like to spoilthe pleasure of the rest with objections, and applied herself in goodearnest to her study. She walked about with a little Shakespeare in herhand; she learnt while she was dressing, working, waiting; sat up late, resisting many a summons from her mother to come to bed, and long beforedaylight, was up and learning again. 

The great evening had come, and the audience were thus arranged:grandmamma took up her carpet-work, expressing many hopes to Aunt Rogerthat it would be over now and out of the children's heads, for theyturned the house upside down, and for her part, she thought it very likeplay-acting. Aunt Roger, returning the sentiment with interest, took outone of the little brown holland frocks, which she seemed to be alwaysmaking. Uncle Roger composed himself to sleep in the arm-chair for wantof his brother to talk to; grandpapa moved a sofa to the front for AuntMary, and sat down by her, declaring that they would see something verypretty, and hoping it would not be too hard a nut for his old wits tocrack; Jessie, and such of the boys as could not be persuaded to bemagnificos, found themselves a convenient station, and the scene opened. 

It was a very short one, but it made every one laugh greatly, thanks toShylock's excellent acting, and the chorus of boys, who greatly enjoyedchasing him across the stage, crying, "The law, his ducats, and hisdaughter!"

Then, after a short interval, appeared Portia, a silver arrow in herhair, almost lovely enough for the real Portia; though the alarmedexpression in her glowing face was little accordant with the calmdignified self-possession of the noble Venetian heiress. Nerissa, ahandkerchief folded squarely over her head, short petticoats, scarletlambswool worked into her stockings, and a black apron trimmed withbright ribbon, made a complete little Italian waiting-maid; her quick, pert reply to her lady's first faltering speech, seemed wonderfully torestore Portia to herself, and they got on well and with spirit throughthe description of the suitors, and the choice of the two first caskets. Portia looked excessively dignified, and Nerissa's by-play was capital. Whether it was owing to Bassanio's awkwardness or her own shyness, she did not prosper quite so well when the leaden casket was chosen;Bassanio seemed more afraid of her than rejoiced, and looked much moreat Nerissa than at her, whilst she moved as slowly, and spoke in ascold and measured a way, as if it had been the Prince of Morocco who hadunfortunately hit upon the right casket. 

In the grand concluding scene she was, however, all that could bewished. She really made a very pretty picture in the dark robes, theglowing carnation of her cheek contrasting with the grey wig, beneathwhich a few bright ringlets still peeped out; one little white handraised, and the other holding the parchment, and her eyes fixed on theJew, as if she either imagined herself Portia, or saw her brother inAntonio's case, for they glistened with tears, and her voice had atremulous pleading tone, which fairly made her grandfather and motherboth cry heartily. 

"Take, then, thy bond; take thou thy pound of flesh!"

The Duke (little Willy) was in an agony, and was forcibly withheld byBassanio from crying "No, he shan't!" Nerissa was so absorbed as even tohave forgotten herself; Shylock could hardly keep his countenance up tothe necessary expression of malice and obduracy; even Johnny and Dickwere hanging with breathless attention on the "but, " when suddenly therewas a general start throughout the party; the door opened; Atkins, witha voice and face full of delight, announced "Master Roger, " and thereentered a young man, in a pea jacket and worsted comforter. 

Such confusion, such rapture as ensued! The tumultuous welcomes andhandshakings before the sailor had time to distinguish one from another, the actors assuming their own characters, grandmamma and Mrs. RogerLangford asking dozens of questions in a breath, and Mr. Roger Langfordfast asleep in his great arm-chair, till roused by Dick tugging at hisarm, and Willy hammering on his knee, he slowly arose, saying, "What, Roger, my boy, is it you? I thought it was all their acting!"

"Ah! Miss Jessie, " exclaimed Roger; "that is right: I have not seen sucha crop of shining curls since I have been gone. So you have not lostyour pink cheeks with pining for me. How are they all at home?"

"Here, Roger, your Aunt Mary, " said his mother; and instantly therewas a subduing of the young sailor's boisterous mirth, as he turnedto answer her gentle welcome. The laugh arose the next moment at theappearance of the still half-disguised actors: Alex without Bassanio'sshort black cloak and slouched hat and feather, but still retaining hisburnt cork eyebrows and moustache, and wondering that Roger did not knowhim; Uncle Geoffrey still in Shylock's yellow cap, and Fred somewhatgrim with the Prince of Morocco's complexion. 

"How d'ye do, Phil?" said Roger, returning his cousinly shake of thehand with interest. "What! are not you Philip Carey?"

"O, Roger, Roger!" cried a small figure, in whom the Italian maidenpredominated. 

"What, Aunt Geoffrey masquerading too? How d'ye do, aunt?"

"Well done, Roger! That's right! Go on!" cried his father, laughingheartily. 

"Is it not my aunt? No? Is it the little Bee, then? Why you are grown aslike her! But where is Aunt Geoffrey then? Not here? That is a bore. Ithought you would have all been in port here at Christmas. And is notthis Philip? Come tell me, some of you, instead of laughing there. Areyou Fred Langford, then?"

"Right this time, " said Fred, "so now you must shake hands with me in myown name. "

"Very glad to do so, and see you here at last, " said Roger, cordially. "And now tell me, what is all this about? One would think you werecrossing the Line?"

"You shall hear what it is all about, and see too, " said Mr. Langford. "We must have that wicked old Jew disappointed, must not we, Willy? Butwhere is my little Portia? What is become of her?"

"Fled, I suspect, " said her mother, "gone to turn into herself beforeher introduction. "

"O, Roger, it was so jolly, " Carey was now heard to say above theconfusion of voices. "Uncle Geoffrey was an old Jew, going to cut apound of flesh out of Fred, and Henrietta was making a speech in alawyer's wig, and had just found such a dodge!"

"Ha! like the masks in the carnival at Rio! Ferrars and I went ashorethere, and--"

"Have you been at Sutton Leigh, Roger?"

"Have you dined?"

"Cold turkey--excellent Christmas pie, only too much pepper--a cup oftea--no, but we will have the beef in--"

Further conversation was suspended by these propositions, with theanswers and thanks resulting therefrom, but in the midst grandpapaexclaimed, "Ah! here she is! Here is the counsellor! Here is a newcousin for you, Roger; here is the advocate for you when you have atough law-suit! Lucky for you, Master Geoffrey, that she is not a man, or your nose would soon be put out of joint. You little rogue! How daredyou make your mother and grandfather cry their hearts out?"

"I was very glad to see you as bad as myself, sir, " said Mrs. FrederickLangford. "I was very much ashamed of being so foolish, but then, youknow, I could hardly ever read through that scene without crying. "

"Ah! you are a prudent mamma, and will not let her be conceited. Butto see Geoffrey, with his lips quivering, and yet frowning and lookingsavage with all his might and main! Well, you are a capital set ofactors, all of you, and we must see the end of it. "

This was the great desire of Beatrice, and she was annoyed withHenrietta for having thrown aside her borrowed garments, but the Fatesdecreed otherwise. The Christmas pie came in, grandpapa proceeded tocarve it, and soon lost the remembrance of the charade in talking tohis eldest grandson about his travels. A sailor just returned fromfour years on the South American coast, who had doubled Cape Horn, shotcondors on the Andes, caught goats at Juan Fernandez, fished for sharksin the Atlantic, and heard parrots chatter in the Brazilian woods, couldnot fail to be very entertaining, even though he cared not for the Incasof Peru, and could tell little about the beauties of an iceberg; andaccordingly everyone was greatly entertained, except the Queen Bee, whosat in a corner of the sofa, playing with her watch-chain, wonderinghow long Roger would go on eating pie, looking at the time-piece, andstrangling the yawns induced by her inability to attract the notice ofeither of her squires, whose eyes and ears were all for the newcomer. She was not even missed; if she had been, it would have been someconsolation; but on they went, listening and laughing, as if the courseof the Euphrosyne, her quick sailing, and the adventures of her crew, were the only subjects of interest in the world. He was only at home fora week, but so much the worse, that would be till the end of Beatrice'sown visit, and she supposed it would be nothing but Euphrosyne the wholetime. 

There was at last a change: Roger had half a hundred questions to askabout his cousins and all the neighbours. 

"And has Philip Carey set up for himself at Allonfield? Does he get anypractice? I have a great mind to be ill; it would be such a joke to bedoctored by Master Philip!"

"Ah! to think of your taking Mr. Frederick for poor Philip, " saidJessie. "I assure you, " nodding to Fred, "I take it as a greatcompliment, and so will Philip. "

"And is Fanny Evans as pretty as ever?"

"Oh! grown quite fat and coarse, " said Jessie; "but you may judgefor yourself on Monday. Dear Mrs. Langford is so kind as to give us aregular Christmas party, and all the Evanses and Dittons are coming. Andwe are to dance in the dining-room, the best place for it in thecounty; the floor is so much better laid down than in the Allonfieldassembly-room. "

"No such good place for dancing as the deck of a frigate, " said Roger. "This time last year we had a ball on board the Euphrosyne at Rio. Itook the prettiest girl there in to supper--don't be jealous, Jessie, she had not such cheeks as yours. She was better off there than in thenext ball where I met her, in the town. She fancied she had got rathera thick sandwich at supper: she peeped in, and what do you think shefound? A great monster of a cockroach, twice as big as any you eversaw. "

"O, you horrid creature!" cried Jessie, "I am sure it was your doing. I am sure it was your doing. I am sure you will give me a scorpion, orsome dreadful creature! I won't let you take me in to supper on Monday, I declare. "

"Perhaps I won't have you. I mean to have Cousin Henrietta for mypartner, if she will have me. "

"Thank you, Cousin Roger, " faltered Henrietta, blushing crimson, withthe doubt whether she was saying the right thing, and fearing Jessiemight be vexed. Her confusion was increased the next moment, as Roger, looking at her more fully than he had done before, went on, "Muchhonoured, cousin. Now, all of you wish me joy. I am safe to have theprettiest girl in the room for my partner. But how slow of them allnot to have engaged her before. Eh! Alex, what have you to say foryourself?"

"I hope for Queen Bee, " said Alex. 

"And Jessie must dance with me, because I don't know how, " said Carey. 

"My dears, this will never do!" interposed grandmamma. "You can't alldance with each other, or what is to become of the company? I neverheard of such a thing. Let me see: Queen Bee must open the ball withlittle Henry Hargrave, and Roger must dance with Miss Benson. "

"No, no, " cried Roger, "I won't give up my partner, ma'am; I am aprivileged person, just come home. Knight Sutton has not had too much ofHenrietta or me, so you must let us be company. Come, Cousin Henrietta, stick fast to your engagement; you can't break the first promise youever made me. Here, " proceeded he, jumping up, and holding out his hand, "let us begin this minute; I'll show you how we waltz with the Brazilianladies. "

"Thank you, Cousin Roger, I cannot waltz, " said Henrietta. 

"That's a pity. Come, Jessie, then. "

If the practice of waltzing was not to be admired, there was somethingwhich was very nice in the perfect good humour with which Jessieanswered her cousin's summons, without the slightest sign of annoyanceat his evident preference of Henrietta's newer face. 

"If I can't waltz, I can play for you, " said Henrietta, willing not toseem disobliging; and going to the piano, she played whilst Roger andJessie whirled merrily round the room, every now and then receivingshocks against the furniture and minding them not the least in theworld, till at last, perfectly out of breath, they dropped laughing uponthe sofa. 

The observations upon the wild spirits of sailors ashore then sank intosilence; Mrs. Roger Langford reproved her son for making such a racket, as was enough to kill his Aunt Mary; with a face of real concern heapologised from the bottom of his heart, and Aunt Mary in return assuredhim that she enjoyed the sight of his merriment. 

Grandmamma announced in her most decided tone that she would have nowaltzes and no polkas at her party. Roger assured her that there was nopossibility of giving a dance without them, and Jessie seconded him asmuch as she ventured; but Mrs. Langford was unpersuadable, declaringthat she would have no such things in her house. Young people in herdays were contented to dance country dances; if they wanted anythingnewer, they might have quadrilles, but as to these new romps, she wouldnot hear of them. 

And here, for once in her life, Beatrice was perfectly agreed with hergrandmamma, and she came to life again, and sat forward to join in theuniversal condemnation of waltzes and polkas that was going on round thetable. 

With this drop of consolation to her, the party broke up, and Jessie, as she walked home to Sutton Leigh, found great solace in determiningwithin herself that at any rate waltzing was not half so bad as dressingup and play-acting, which she was sure her mamma would never approve. 

Beatrice came to her aunt's room, when they went upstairs, andpetitioned for a little talk, and Mrs. Frederick Langford, with kindpity for her present motherless condition, accepted her visit, and evenallowed her to outstay Bennet, during whose operations the discussion ofthe charade, and the history of the preparations and contrivances gavesubject to a very animated conversation. 

Then came matters of more interest. What Beatrice seemed above allto wish for, was to relieve herself by the expression of her intensedislike to the ball, and all the company, very nearly without exception, and there were few elders to whom a young damsel could talk so muchwithout restraint as to Aunt Mary. 

The waltzing, too, how glad she was that grandmamma had forbidden it, and here Henrietta chimed in. She had never seen waltzing before; hadonly heard of it as people in their quiet homes hear and think of thedoings of the fashionable world, and in her simplicity was perfectlyshocked and amazed at Jessie, a sort of relation, practising it andpleading for it. 

"My dear!" said Beatrice, laughing, "I do not know what you would doif you were me, when there is Matilda St. Leger polka-ing away half thedays of her life. "

"Yes, but Lady Matilda is a regular fashionable young lady. "

"Ay, and so is Jessie at heart. It is the elegance, and the air, andthe society that are wanting, not the will. It is the circumstances thatmake the difference, not the temper. "

"Quite true, Busy Bee, " said her aunt, "temper may be the same in verydifferent circumstances. "

"But it is very curious, mamma, " said Henrietta, "how people can beparticular in one point, and not in another. Now, Bee, I beg yourpardon, only I know you don't mind it, Jessie did not approve of yourskating. "

"Yes, " said Beatrice, "every one has scruples of his own, and laughs atthose of other people. "

"Which I think ought to teach Busy Bees to be rather less stinging, "said Aunt Mary. 

"But then, mamma, " said Henrietta, "we must hold to the right scruples, and what are they? I do not suppose that in reality Jessie is less--lessdesirous of avoiding all that verges towards a want of propriety then weare, yet she waltzes. Now we were brought up to dislike such things. "

"O, it is just according to what you are brought up to, " said Beatrice. "A Turkish lady despises us for showing our faces: it is just as youthink it. "

"No, that will not do, " said Henrietta. "Something must be actuallywrong. Mamma, do say what you think. "

"I think, my dear, that woman has been mercifully endowed with aninstinct which discerns unconsciously what is becoming or not, andwhatever at the first moment jars on that sense is unbecoming in herown individual case. The fineness of the perception may be destroyed byeducation, or wilful dulling, and often on one point it may be silent, though alive and active on others. "

"Yes, " said Henrietta, as if satisfied. 

"And above all, " said her mother, "it, like other gifts, growsdangerous, it may become affectation. "

"Pruding, " said Beatrice, "showing openly that you like it to beobserved how prudent and proper you are. "

"Whereas true delicacy would shrink from showing that it is consciousof anything wrong, " said Henrietta. "Wrong I do not exactly mean, butsomething on the borders of it. "

"Yes, " said Aunt Mary, "and above all, do not let this delicacy showitself in the carping at other people, which only exalts our own opinionof ourselves, and very soon turns into 'judging our neighbour. '"

"But there is false delicacy, aunt. "

"Yes, but it would be false kindness to enter on a fresh discussiontonight, when you ought to be fast asleep. "

CHAPTER XI. 

The Queen Bee, usually undisputed sovereign of Knight Sutton, found inher cousin Roger a formidable rival. As son and heir, elder brother, andnewly arrived after five years' absence, he had considerable claims toattention, and his high spirits, sailor manners, sea stories, and boldopen temper, were in themselves such charms that it was no wonder thatFrederick and Alexander were seduced from their allegiance, and evengrandpapa was less than usual the property of his granddaughter. 

This, however, she might have endured, had the sailor himself beenamenable to her power, for his glories would then have become hers, andhave afforded her further opportunities of coquetting with Fred. Butbetween Roger and her there was little in common: he was not, and neverhad been, accessible to her influence; he regarded her, indeed, with allthe open-hearted affection of cousinly intercourse, but for the rest, thought her much too clever for him, and far less attractive than eitherHenrietta or Jessie. 

If she would, Henrietta might have secured his devotion, for he wasstruck with her beauty, and considered it a matter of credit to himselfto engross the prettiest person present. Had Beatrice been in her place, it may be doubted how far love of power, and the pleasure of teasing, might have carried her out of her natural character in the style thatsuited him; but Henrietta was too simple, and her mind too full of herown affairs even to perceive that he distinguished her. She likedhim, but she showed none of the little airs which would have seemed toappropriate him. She was ready to be talked to, but only as she gave theattention due to any one, nay, showing, because she felt, less eagernessthan if it had been grandpapa, Queen Bee, or Fred, a talk with the lastof whom was a pleasure now longed for, but never enjoyed. To hisstories of adventures, or accounts of manners, she lent a willing anda delighted ear; but all common-place jokes tending to flirtation fellflat; she either did not catch them, or did not catch at them. She mightblush and look confused, but it was uncomfortable, and not gratifiedembarrassment, and if she found an answer, it was one either to changethe subject, or honestly manifest that she was not pleased. 

She did not mortify Roger, who liked her all the time; and if he thoughtat all, only considered her as shy or grave, and still continued toadmire her, and seek her out, whenever his former favourite, Jessie, was not in the way to rattle with in his usual style. Jessie was full ofenjoyment, Henrietta was glad to be left to her own devices, hermamma was still more rejoiced to see her act so properly withoutself-consciousness or the necessity of interference, and the Queen Beeought to have been duly grateful to the one faithful vassal who wasproof against all allurements from her side and service. 

She ought, but the melancholy fact is that the devotion of womankind isusually taken as a matter of course. Beatrice would have despised andbeen very angry with Henrietta had she deserted to Roger, but she didnot feel in the least grateful for her adherence, and would have beenmuch more proud of retaining either of the boys. There was one point onwhich their attention could still be commanded, namely, the charades;for though the world may be of opinion that they had had quite asufficiency of amusement, they were but the more stimulated by theirsuccess on Thursday, and the sudden termination in the very height oftheir triumph. 

They would, perhaps, have favoured the public with a repetition ofShylock's trial the next evening, but that, to the great consternation, and, perhaps, indignation of Beatrice, when she came down to breakfastin the morning, she found their tiring-room, the study, completelycleared of all their various goods and chattels, Portia's wig in itsbox, the three caskets gone back to the dressing-room, the duke's thronesafe in its place in the hall, and even Shylock's yellow cap picked topieces, and rolled up in the general hoard of things which were tocome of use in seven years' time. Judith, who was putting the finishingtouches to the re-arrangement by shaking up the cushions of the greatchair, and restoring the inkstand to its place in the middle of thetable, gave in answer to her exclamations the information that "Missushad been up since seven o'clock, helping to put away the things herself, for she said she could not bear to have Mr. Geoffrey's room not fit foranybody to sit in. " This might certainly be considered as a tolerablybroad hint that they had better discontinue their representations, but they were arrived at that state of eagerness which may be bestillustrated by the proverb referring to a blind horse. Every one, inclined to that same impetuosity, and want of soberness, can rememberthe dismay with which hosts of such disregarded checks will recur to themind when too late, and the poor satisfaction of the self-justificationwhich truly answers that their object was not even comprehended. Henrietta, accustomed but little to heed such indications of dissentfrom her will, did not once think of her grandmamma's dislike, andBeatrice with her eyes fully open to it, wilfully despised it as afidgety fancy. 

Henrietta had devised a series of scenes for the word assassin, andgreatly delighted the imagination of her partners by a proposal to makea pair of asses' ears of cotton velvet for the adornment of Bottom theweaver. Fred fell back in his chair in fits of laughing at the device, and Queen Bee capered and danced about the room, declaring her worthy tobe her own "primest of viziers. "

"And, " said Beatrice, "what an exquisite interlude it will make torelieve the various plagues of Monday evening. "

"Why you don't mean to act then!" exclaimed Henrietta. 

"Why not? You don't know what a relief it will be. It will be an excusefor getting away from all the stupidity. "

"To be sure it will, " cried Fred. "A bright thought, Mrs. Bee. We shallhave it all to ourselves in the study in comfort. "

"But would grandmamma ever let us do it?" said Henrietta. 

"I will manage, " said Beatrice. "I will make grandpapa agree to it, andthen she will not mind. Think how he enjoyed it. "

"Before so many people!" said Henrietta. "O, Queenie, it will never do!It would be a regular exhibition. "

"My dear, what nonsense!" said Beatrice. "Why, it is all among friendsand neighbours. "

"Friends and neighbours to you, " said Henrietta. 

"And yours too. Fred, she is deserting! I thought you meant to adopt orinherit all Knight Sutton and its neighbourhood could offer. "

"A choice inheritance that neighbourhood, by your account, " said Fred. "But come, Henrietta, you must not spoil the whole affair by suchnonsense and affectation. "

"Affectation! O, Fred!"

"Yes, to be sure it is, " said Fred: "to set up such scruples as these. Why, you said yourself that you forget all about the spectators whenonce you get into the spirit of the thing. "

"And what is affectation, " said Beatrice, seeing her advantage, "butthinking what other people will think?"

There are few persuasions to which a girl who claims to possess somedegree of sense is more accessible, than the imputation of affectation, especially when brought forward by a brother, and enforced by a cleverand determined friend. Such a feeling is no doubt often very useful inpreventing folly, but it may sometimes be perverted to the smotheringof wholesome scruples. Henrietta only pressed one point more, she beggednot to be Titania. 

"O, you must, you silly child, " said Beatrice. "I have such designsfor dressing you! Besides, I mean to be Mustardseed, and make grandpapalaugh by my by-play at the giant Ox-beef. "

"But consider, Bee, " said Henrietta, "how much too tall I am fora fairy. It would be too absurd to make Titania as large as Bottomhimself--spoil the whole picture. You might surely get some little girlsto be the other fairies, and take Titania yourself. "

"Certainly it might conciliate people to have their own children madepart of the show, " said Beatrice. "Little Anna Carey has sense enough, I think; ay, and the two Nevilles, if they will not be shy. We will keepyou to come out in grand force in the last scene--Queen Eleanor suckingthe poison. Aunt Mary has a certain black-lace scarf that will make anexcellent Spanish mantilla. Or else suppose you are Berengaria, comingto see King Richard when he was 'old-man-of-the-mountains. '"

"No, no, " cried Fred, "stick to the Queen Eleanor scene. We will have nomore blacking of faces. Yesterday I was too late down stairs because Icould not get the abominable stuff out of my hair. "

"And it would be a cruel stroke to be taken for Philip Carey again, in the gentleman's own presence, too, " said Beatrice. "Monsieur isapparemment the apothecaire de famille. Do you remember, Henrietta, theFrench governess in Miss Edgworth's book?"

"Jessie smiled and nodded as if she was perfectly enchanted with themistake, " said Henrietta. 

"And I do not wonder at it, " said Beatrice, "the mistake, I mean. Fred'swhite hands there have just the look of a doctor's; of course Rogerthought the only use of them could be to feel pulses, and Philip, forwant of something better to do, is always trying for a genteel look. "

"You insulting creature!" said Fred. "Just as if I tried to lookgenteel. "

"You do, then, whether you try or not. You can't help it, you know, andI am very sorry for you; but you do stand and walk and hold out yourhand just as Philip is always trying to do, and it is no wonder Rogerthought he had succeeded in attaining his object. "

"But what a goose the man must be to make such absurdity his object, "said Henrietta. 

"He could not be a Carey and be otherwise, " said Busy Bee. "And besides, what would you have him do? As to getting any practice, unless his kithand kin choose to victimise themselves philanthropically according toRoger's proposal, I do not see what chance he has, where everyone knowsthe extent of a Carey's intellects; and what is left for the poor man todo but to study the cut of his boots?"

"If you say much more about it, Queenie, " said Henrietta, "you will makeFred dance in Bottom's hob-nailed shoes. "

"Ah! it is a melancholy business, " said Beatrice; "but it cannot behelped. Fred cannot turn into a clodhopper. But what earthquake isthis?" exclaimed she, as the front door was dashed open with suchviolence as to shake the house, and the next moment Alexander rushed in, heated and almost breathless. "Rats! rats!" was his cry; "Fred, that'sright. But where is Uncle Geoffrey?"

"Gone to Allonfield. "

"More's the pity. There are a whole host of rats in the great barn athome. Pincher caught me one just now, and they are going to turn theplace regularly out, only I got them to wait while I came up here foryou and Uncle Geoffrey. Come, make haste, fly--like smoke--while I goand tell grandpapa. "

Off flew Fred to make his preparation, and off to the drawing roomhurried Alex to call grandpapa. He was greeted by a reproof from Mrs. Langford for shaking the house enough to bring it down, and grandpapalaughed, thanked him, and said he hoped to be at Sutton Leigh in timefor the rat hunt, as he was engaged to drive grandmamma and Aunt Marythither and to the Pleasance that afternoon. 

Two seconds more, and Fred and Alex were speeding away together, and thegirls went up to put on their bonnets to walk and meet their elders atSutton Leigh. For once Beatrice let Henrietta be as slow as she pleased, for she was willing to let as much of the visit as possible passbefore they arrived there. They walked along, merrily concocting theirarrangements for Monday evening, until at length they came to the gatesof Sutton Leigh, and already heard the shouts of triumph, the barking ofdogs, and the cackle of terrified poultry, which proclaimed that the warwas at its height. 

"O! the glories of a rat hunt!" cried Beatrice. "Come, Henrietta, hereis a safe place whence to contemplate it, and really it is a sight notto be lost. "

Henrietta thought not indeed when she looked over a gate leading intothe farm-yard on the side opposite to the great old barn, raised ona multitude of stone posts, a short ladder reaching to the wide doorswhich were folded back so as to display the heaps of straw thrownviolently back and forward; the dogs now standing in attitudes ofecstatic expectation, tail straight out, head bent forward, nowspringing in rapture on the prey; the boys rushing about with theirhuge sticks, and coming down now and then with thundering blows, thelabourers with their white shirt sleeves and pitchforks pulling down thestraw, Uncle Roger with a portentous-looking club in the thick of thefight. On the ladder, cheering them on, stood grandpapa, holding littleTom in his arms, and at the bottom, armed with small sticks, wereCharlie and Arthur, consoling themselves for being turned out of themelée, by making quite as much noise as all those who were doing realexecution, thumping unmercifully at every unfortunate dead mouse or ratthat was thrown out, and charging fiercely at the pigs, ducks, and geesethat now and then came up to inspect proceedings, and perhaps, for suchaccidents will occur in the best regulated families, to devour a shareof the prey. 

Beatrice's first exclamation was, "O! if papa was but here!"

"Nothing can go on without him, I suppose, " said Henrietta. "And yet, isthis one of his great enjoyments?"

"My dear, don't you know it is a part of the privilege of a free-bornEnglishman to delight in hunting 'rats and mice and such small beer, ' asmuch or more than the grand chasse? I have not the smallest doubt thatall the old cavaliers were fine old farm-loving fellows, who liked a rathunt, and enjoyed turning out a barn with all their hearts. "

"There goes Fred!" cried Henrietta. 

"Ah! capital. He takes to it by nature, you see. There--there! O whata scene it is! Look how beautifully the sun comes in, making that solidsort of light on the mist of dust at the top. "

"And how beautifully it falls on grandpapa's head! I think thatgrandpapa with little Tom is one of the best parts of the picture, Bee. "

"To be sure he is, that noble old head of his, and that beautiful gentleface; and to see him pointing, and soothing the child when he getsfrightened at the hubbub, and then enjoying the victories over the poorrats as keenly as anybody!"

"Certainly, " said Henrietta, "there is something very odd in man'snature; they can like to do such cruel-sounding things without beingcruel! Grandpapa, or Fred, or Uncle Roger, or Alex now, they are as kindand gentle as possible: yet the delight they can take in catching andkilling--"

"That is what town-people never can understand, " said Beatrice, "thathunting-spirit of mankind. I hate above all things to hear it crieddown, and the nonsense that is talked about it. I only wish that thosepeople could have seen what I did last summer--grandpapa calling Carey, and holding the ladder for him while he put the young birds into theirnest that had fallen out. And O the uproar that there was one day whenDick did something cruel to a poor rabbit; it was two or three yearsago, and Alex and Carey set upon him and thrashed him so that theywere really punished for it, bad as it was of Dick; it was one of thosebursts of generous indignation. "

"It is a very curious thing, " said Henrietta, "the soldier spirit itmust be, I suppose--"

"What are you philosophising about, young ladies?" asked Mr. Langford, coming up as Henrietta said these last words. 

"Only about the spirit of the chase, grandpapa, " said Beatrice, "whatthe pleasure can be of the field of slaughter there. "

"Something mysterious, you may be sure, young ladies, " said grandpapa. "I have hunted rats once or twice a year now these seventy years ormore, and I can't say I am tired yet. And there is Master Fred goingat it, for the first time in his life, as fiercely as any of us oldveterans, and he has a very good eye for a hit, I can tell you, if it isany satisfaction to you. Ha! hoigh Vixen! hoigh Carey! that's it--therehe goes!"

"Now, grandpapa, " said Beatrice, catching hold of his hand, "I want justto speak to you. Don't you think we might have a little charade-actingon Monday to enliven the evening a little?"

"Eh? what? More charades? Well, they are very pretty sport, only I thinkthey would astonish the natives here a little. Are we to have the end ofShylock?"

"No, " said Beatrice, "we never condescend to repeat ourselves. We have anew word and a beauty, and don't you think it will do very well?"

"I am afraid grandmamma will think you are going to take to privatetheatricals. "

"Well, it won't be nearly such regular acting as the last, " saidBeatrice, "I do not think it would do to take another half-play for somany spectators, but a scene or two mostly in dumb show would make avery nice diversion. Only say that you consent, grandpapa. "

"Well, I don't see any harm in it, " said grandpapa, "so long asgrandmamma does not mind it. I suppose your mamma does not, Henrietta?"

"O no, " said Henrietta, with a certain mental reservation that she wouldmake her not mind it, or at any rate not gainsay it. Fred's calling heraffected was enough to make her consent, and bring her mamma to consentto anything; for so little is it really the nature of woman to exercisepower, that if she domineers, it is sure to be compensated by somesubjection in some other manner: and if Henrietta ruled her mother, shewas completely under the dominion of Fred and Beatrice. Themistocles'wife might rule Athens, but she was governed by her son. 

After this conversation they went in, and found Aunt Roger very busy, recommending servants to Aunt Mary, and grandmamma enforcing all shesaid. The visit soon came to an end, and they went on to the Pleasance, where the inspection did not prove quite as agreeable as on thefirst occasion; for grandmamma and Beatrice had very different viewsrespecting the appropriation of the rooms, and poor Mrs. FrederickLangford was harassed and wearied by her vain attempts to accede to thewishes of both, and vex neither. Grandmamma was determined too to lookover every corner, and discuss every room, and Henrietta, in despairat the fatigue her mother was obliged to go through, kept on seeking invain for a seat for her, and having at last discovered a broken-backedkitchen chair in some of the regions below, kept diligently carryingit after her in all her peregrinations. She was constantly wishing thatUncle Geoffrey would come, but in vain; and between the long talking atSutton Leigh, the wandering about the house, and the many discussions, her mamma was completely tired out, and obliged, when they came home, to confess that she had a headache. Henrietta fairly wished her safe atRocksand. 

While Henrietta was attending her mother to her own room, and persuadingher to lay up for the evening, Beatrice, whose head was full of but onematter, pursued Mrs. Langford into the study, and propounded her grandobject. As she fully expected, she met with a flat refusal, and sittingdown in her arm-chair, Mrs. Langford very earnestly began with "Nowlisten to me, my dear child, " and proceeded with a long story ofcertain private theatricals some forty years ago, which to her certainknowledge, ended in a young lady eloping with a music master. Beatriceset to work to argue: in the first place it was not probable that eithershe or Henrietta would run away with their cousins; secondly, that theformer elopement was not chargeable on poor Shakespeare; thirdly, thatthese were not private theatricals at all. 

"And pray what are they, then--when you dress yourselves up, and speakthe speeches out as boldly as Mrs. Siddons, or any of them?"

"You pay us a great compliment, " said Beatrice, who could sometimesbe pert when alone with grandmamma; and she then went on with herexplanation of how very far this was from anything that could be calledtheatrical; it was the guessing the word, not their acting, that wasthe important point. The distinction was too fine for grandmamma; itwas play-acting, and that was enough for her, and she would not have itdone. 

"But grandpapa liked it, and had given full consent. " This was apowerful piece of ordnance which Beatrice had kept in reserve, but atthe first moment the shot did not tell. 

"Ladies were the best judges in such a case as this, " said Mrs. Langford, "and let who would consent, she would never have hergranddaughters standing up, speaking speeches out of Shakespeare, beforea whole room full of company. "

"Well, then, grandmamma, I'll tell you what: to oblige you, we will nothave one single scene out of Shakespeare--not one. Won't that do?"

"You will go to some other play-book, and that is worse, " said Mrs. Langford. 

"No, no, we will not: we will do every bit out of our own heads, and itshall be almost all Fred and Alex; Henrietta and I will scarcely comein at all. And it will so shorten the evening, and amuse every one sonicely! and grandpapa has said we may. "

Mrs. Langford gave a sort of sigh. "Ah, well! you always will have yourown way, and I suppose you must; but I never thought to see such thingsin my house. In my day, young people thought no more of a scheme whentheir elders had once said, 'No. '"

"Yes, only you must not say so, grandmamma. I am sure we would give itup if you did; but pray do not--we will manage very well. "

"And put the whole house in a mess, as you did last time; turneverything upside down. I tell you, Beatrice, I can't have it done. Ishall want the study to put out the supper in. "

"We can dress in our own rooms, then, " said Beatrice, "never mind that. "

"Well, then, if you will make merry-andrews of yourselves, and yourfathers and mothers like to let you, I can't help it--that's all I haveto say, " said Mrs. Langford, walking out of the room; while Fred enteredfrom the other side a moment after. "Victory, victory, my dear Fred!"cried Beatrice, darting to meet him in an ecstasy. "I have prevailed:you find me in the hour of victory. The Assassin for ever! announced forMonday night, before a select audience!"

"Well, you are an irresistible Queen Bee, " said Fred; "why Alex has justbeen telling me ever so much that his mother told him about grandmamma'sdislike to it. I thought the whole concern a gone 'coon, as they say inAmerica. "

"I got grandpapa first, " said Beatrice, "and then I persuaded her;she told me it would lead to all sorts of mischief, and gave me a longlecture which had nothing to do with it. But I found out at lastthat the chief points which alarmed her were poor Shakespeare and theconfusion in the study; so by giving up those two I gained everything. "

"You don't mean that you gave up bully Bottom?"

"Yes, I do; but you need not resign your asses' ears. You shall wearthem in the character of King Midas. "

"I think, " said the ungrateful Fred, "that you might as well have givenit all up together as Bottom. "

"No, no; just think what capabilities there are in Midas. We willdecidedly make him King of California, and I'll be the priestess ofApollo; there is an old three-legged epergne-stand that will make a mostexcellent tripod. And only think of the whispering into the reeds, 'KingMidas has the ears of an ass. ' I would have made more of a fight forBottom, if that had not come into my head. "

"But you will have nothing to do. "

"That helped to conciliate. I promised we girls should appear verylittle, and for the sake of effect, I had rather Henrietta broke on theworld in all her beauty at the end. I do look forward to seeing her asQueen Eleanor; she will look so regal. "

Fred smiled, for he delighted in his sister's praises. "You are awondrous damsel, busy one, " said he, "to be content to play secondfiddle. "

"Second fiddle! As if I were not the great moving spring! Trust me, youwould never write yourself down an ass but for the Queen Bee. How shallwe ever get your ears from Allonfield? Saturday night, and only tillMonday evening to do everything in!"

"Oh, you will do it, " said Fred. "I wonder what you and Henrietta cannotdo between you! Oh, there is Uncle Geoffrey come in, " he exclaimed, ashe heard the front door open. 

"And I must go and dress, " said Beatrice, seized with a sudden haste, which did not speak well for the state of her conscience. 

Uncle Geoffrey was in the hall, taking off his mud-bespattered gaiters. "So you are entered with the vermin, Fred, " called he, as the two cameout of the drawing-room. 

"O how we wished for you, Uncle Geoffrey! but how did you hear it?"

"I met Alex just now. Capital sport you must have had. Are you only justcome in?"

"No, we were having a consultation about the charades, " said Fred; "thehigher powers consent to our having them on Monday. "

"Grandmamma approving?" asked Uncle Geoffrey. 

"O yes, " said Fred, in all honesty, "she only objected to our taking aregular scene in a play, and 'coming it as strong' as we did the othernight; so it is to be all extemporary, and it will do famously. "

Beatrice, who had been waiting in the dark at the top of the stairs, listening, was infinitely rejoiced that her project had been explainedso plausibly, and yet in such perfect good faith, and she flew off todress in high spirits. Had she mentioned it to her father, he wouldhave doubted, taken it as her scheme, and perhaps put a stop to it: buthearing of it from Frederick, whose pleasures were so often thwarted, was likely to make him far more unwilling to object. For its own sake, she knew he had no objection to the sport; it was only for that of hismother; and since he had heard of her as consenting, all was right. No, could Beatrice actually say so to her own secret soul?

She could not; but she could smother the still small voice that checkedher, in a multitude of plans, and projects, and criticisms, and airycastles, and, above all, the pleasure of triumph and dominion, and theresolution not to yield, and the delight of leading. 

CHAPTER XII. 

"Our hearts and all our members, being mortified from all worldlyand carnal lusts:" so speaks the collect with which we begin the newyear--such the prayer to which the lips of the young Langfords said, "Amen:" but what was its application to them? What did they do with thewicked world in their own guarded homes? There was Uncle Geoffrey, hewas in the world. It might be for him to pray for that spirit whichenabled him to pass unscathed through the perils of his profession, neither tempted to grasp at the honours nor the wealth which lay in hisway, unhardened and unsoured by the contact of the sin and selfishnesson every side. This might indeed be the world. There was Jessie Carey, with her love of dress, and admiration, and pleasure; she should surelypray that she might live less to the vanities of the world; there wereothers, whose worn countenances spoke of hearts devoted to the cares ofthe world; but to those fair, fresh, happy young things, early taughthow to prize vain pomp and glory, their minds as yet free from anxiety, looking from a safe distance on the busy field of trial and temptation;were not they truly kept from that world which they had renounced?

Alas! that they did not lay to heart that the world is everywhere; thatif education had placed them above being tempted by the poorer, cheaper, and more ordinary attractions, yet allurements there were for them also. A pleasure pursued with headlong vehemence because it was of their owndevising, love of rule, the spirit of rivalry, the want of submission;these were of the world. Other temptations had not yet reached them, butif they gave way to those which assailed them in their early youth, howcould they expect to have strength to bear up against the darker andstronger ones which would meet their riper years?

Even before daylight had fully found its way into Knight Sutton Hall, there was many a note of preparation, and none clearer or louder thanthose of the charade actors. Beatrice was up long before light, in themidst of her preparations, and it was not long after, as, lamp in hand, she whisked through the passages, Frederick's voice was heard demandingwhether the Busy Bee had turned into a firefly, and if the paste wasmade wherewith Midas was to have his crown stuck with gold paper. Zealous indeed were the workers, and heartily did old Judith wishthem anywhere else, as she drove them, their lamps, their paste, andnewspaper, from one corner of the study to the other, and at last fairlyout into the hall, threatening them with what Missus would say to them. At last grandmamma came down with a party of neat little notes in herhand, to be immediately sent off by Martin and the cart to Allonfield, and Martin came to the door leading to the kitchen regions to receivehis directions. 

"O how lucky!" cried Queen Bee, springing up. "The cotton velvet for theears! I'll write a note in a second!" Then she paused. "But I can't doit without Henrietta, I don't know how much she wants. Half a yardmust do, I suppose; but then, how to describe it? Half a yard ofdonkey-coloured velvet! It will never do; I must see Henrietta first!"

"Have not you heard her bell?" said Fred. 

"No, shall I go and knock at the door? She must be up by this time. "

"You had better ask Bennet, " said Fred; "she sometimes gets up quietly, and dresses herself without Bennet, if mamma is asleep, because it givesher a palpitation to be disturbed in the morning. "

Bennet was shouted for, and proved not to have been into her mistress'sroom. The charade mania was not strong enough to make them venture upondisturbing Mrs. Frederick Langford, and to their great vexation, Martindeparted bearing no commission for the asinine decorations. 

About half an hour after, Henrietta made her appearance, as sorry asany one that the opportunity had been lost, more especially as mamma hadbeen broad awake all the time, and the only reason she had not rung thebell was, that she was not ready for Bennet. 

As usual, she was called an incorrigible dawdle, and made humbleconfession of the same, offering to do all in her power to make up forthe morning's laziness. But what would Midas be without his ears?

The best plan that Queen Bee could devise, was, that, whilst Henriettawas engaged with the other preparations, she should walk to Sutton Leighwith Frederick, to despatch Alexander to Allonfield. No sooner said thandone, and off they set, but neither was this plan fated to meet withsuccess, for just as they came in sight of Sutton Leigh, they werehailed by the loud hearty voice of Roger, and beheld him at the head offour brothers, marching off to pay his respects to his Aunt Carey, somethree miles off. Alex came to hold council at Queen Bee's summons, buthe could do nothing for her, for he had that morning been taken totask for not having made a visit to Mrs. Carey, since he came home, andespecially ordered off to call upon her, before meeting her at the partythat evening. 

"How abominably provoking!" cried Beatrice; "just as if it signified. IfI had but a fairy!"

"Carey!" called Alex, "here! Bee wants to send over to Allonfield: won'tyou take Dumple and go?"

"Not I, " responded Carey; "I want to walk with Roger. But there'sDumple, let her go herself. "

"What, ride him?" asked Beatrice, "thank you, Carey. "

"Fred might drive you, " said Carey; "O no, poor fellow, I suppose hedoes not know how. "

Fred coloured with anger. "I do, " said he; "I have often driven our ownhorses. "

"Ay, " said Beatrice, "with the coachman sitting by you, and Aunt Marylittle guessing what you were doing. "

"I assure you, Queen, " said Fred, very earnestly, "I do really know howto drive, and if we may have the gig, and you will trust yourself withme, I will bring you home quite safe. "

"I know you can have the gig, " said Carey, "for papa offered it to Rogerand Alex this morning; only we chose all to walk together. To think ofdoubting whether to drive old Dumple!"

"I don't question, " said Fred; "I only want to know if Busy Bee will go. I won't break your neck, I promise you. "

Beatrice was slightly mistrustful, and had some doubts about AuntMary, but poor Alex did much to decide her, though intending quite thereverse. 

"I don't advise you, Bee, " said he. 

"O, as to that, " said she, pleased to see that he disliked the plan, "Ihave great faith in Dumple's experience, and I can sit tight in a chay, as the boy said to grandpapa when he asked him if he could ride. Mychief doubt is about Aunt Mary. "

Fred's successful disobedience in the matter of skating had decidedlymade him less scrupulous about showing open disregard of his mother'sdesires, and he answered in a certain superior patronizing manner, "O, you know I only give way sometimes, because she does make herself sointensely miserable about me; but as she will be spared all that now, byknowing nothing about it, I don't think it need be considered. "

Beatrice recollected what her father had said, but eluded it the nextmoment, by replying to herself, that no commands had been given in thiscase. 

Alex stood fumbling with the button of his great coat, looking muchannoyed, and saying nothing; Roger called out to him that they could notwait all day, and he exerted himself to take Beatrice by the arm, andsay, "Bee, I wish you would not, I am sure there will be a blow up aboutit at home. "

"O, you think nobody can or may drive me but yourself, Master Alex, "said Beatrice, laughing. "No, no, I know very well that nobody will carewhen it is done, and there are no commands one way or the other. I lovemy own neck, I assure you, Alex, and will not get that into a scrape. Come, if that will put you into a better humour, I'll dance with youfirst to-night. " Alex turned away, muttering, "I don't like it--I'd gomyself, but--Well, I shall speak to Fred. "

Beatrice smiled with triumph at the jealousy which she thought she hadexcited, and watched to see the effect of the remonstrance. 

"You are sure now, " said he, "that you can drive safely? Remember itwould be a tolerable piece of work if you were to damage that littleBee. "

This eloquent expostulation might have had some weight, if it had comefrom any one else; but Fred was too much annoyed at the superiority ofhis rival to listen with any patience, and he replied rather sullenly, that he could take as good care of her as Alex himself, and he onlywished that their own horses were come from Rocksand. 

"Well, I have no more to say, " said Alex, "only please to mind this, Langford junior, you may do just as you please with our horse, drive himto Jericho for what I care. It was for your own sake and Beatrice's thatI spoke. "

"Much obliged, Langford senior, " replied Fred, making himself as tall ashe could, and turning round to Carey with a very different tone, "Now, Carey, we won't stop you any longer, if you'll only just be so good asto tell your man to get out the gig. "

Carey did so, and Beatrice and Frederick were left alone, but not long, for Uncle Roger presently came into the yard with Willy and Arthurrunning after him. To take possession of his horse and carriage, inhis very sight, without permission, was quite impossible, and, besides, Beatrice knew full well that her dexterity could obtain a sanction fromhim which might be made to parry all blame. So tripping up to him, sheexplained in a droll manner the distress in which the charade actorsstood, and how the boys had said that they might have Dumple to driveto Allonfield. Good natured Uncle Roger, who did not see why Fred shouldnot drive as well as Alex or any of his other boys, knew little ornothing of his sister-in-law's fears, and would, perhaps, have takenFred's side of the question if he had, did exactly as she intended, declared them perfectly welcome to the use of Dumple, and sent Willyinto the house for the driving whip. Thus authorized, Beatrice didnot fear even her father, who was not likely to allow in words what anonentity the authority of Uncle Roger might really be esteemed. 

Willy came back with a shilling in his hand, and an entreaty that hemight go with Queen Bee and Fred to buy a cannon for the little ships, of which Roger's return always produced a whole fleet at Sutton Leigh. His cousins were in a triumphant temper of good nature, and willinglyconsenting, he was perched between them, but for one moment Beatrice'scomplacency was diminished as Uncle Roger called out, "Ha! Fred takecare! What are you doing?--you'll be against the gate-post--don't bringhis head so short round. If you don't take more care, you'll certainlycome to a smash before you get home. "

If honour and credit had not been concerned, both Beatrice and Frederickwould probably have been much better satisfied to have given up theirbold design after this debut, but they were far too much bent on theirown way to yield, and Fred's pride would never have allowed him toacknowledge that he felt himself unequal to the task he had so rashlyundertaken. Uncle Roger, believing it to be only carelessness instead ofignorance, and too much used to dangerous undertakings of his own boysto have many anxieties on their account, let them go on without furtherquestion, and turned off to visit his young wheat without the smallestuneasiness respecting the smash he had predicted, as he had done, by wayof warning, at least twenty times before. 

Busy Bee was in that stage of girlhood which is very sensible on somepoints, in the midst of great folly upon others, and she was quite wiseenough to let Fred alone, to give full attention to his driving all theway to Allonfield. Dumple knew perfectly well what was required of him, and went on at a very steady well-behaved pace, up the hill, across thecommon, and into the town, where, leaving him at the inn, they walkedinto the street, and Beatrice, after an infinity of searching, succeededin obtaining certain grey cotton velvet, which, though Fred assertedthat donkeys had a tinge of lilac, was certainly not unfit to representtheir colour. As Fred's finances were in a much more flourishing statesince New Year's day, he proceeded to delight the very heart of Willyby a present of a pair of little brass cannon, on which his longing eyeshad often before been fixed, and they then returned to the carriage, insome dismay on perceiving that it was nearly one o'clock. 

"We must go straight home, " said Beatrice, "or this velvet will be of nouse. There is no time to drive to Sutton Leigh and walk from thence. "

Unfortunately, however, there was an influential personage who was by nomeans willing to consent to this arrangement, namely, Dumple, who, well aware that an inexperienced hand held the reins, was privatelydetermined that his nose should not be turned away from the shortestroad to his own stable. 

As soon, therefore, as he came to the turning towards Sutton Leigh, hemade a decided dash in that direction. Fred pulled him sharply, and alittle nervously; the horse resisted; Fred gave him a cut with thewhip, but Dumple felt that he had the advantage, and replying with ademonstration of kicking, suddenly whisked round the corner, and setoff over the rough jolting road at a pace very like running away. Fredpulled hard, but the horse went the faster. He stood up. "Sit still, "cried Beatrice, now speaking for the first time, "the gate will stophim;" but ere the words were uttered, Frederick, whether by a movementof his own, or the rapid motion of the carriage, she knew not, wasthrown violently to the ground; and as she was whirled on, she saw himno more. Instinct, rather than presence of mind, made her hold fast tothe carriage with one hand, and throw the other arm round little Willy, to prevent him from being thrown out, as they were shaken from side toside by the ruts and stones over which they were jolted. A few minutesmore, and their way was barred by a gate--that which she had spokenof--the horse, used to stopping there, slackened his pace, and stoodstill, looking over it as if nothing had happened. 

Trembling in every limb, Beatrice stood safely on the ground, and Willybeside her. Without speaking, she hurried back to seek for Fred, hersteps swifter than they had ever before been, though to herself itseemed as if her feet were of lead, and the very throbbing of her heartdragged her back. In every bush she fancied she saw Fred coming to meether, but it was only for a moment, and at length she saw him buttoo plainly. He was stretched at full length on the ground, senseless--motionless. She sank rather than knelt down beside him, andcalled him; but not a token was there that he heard her. She liftedhis hand, it fell powerless, and clasping her own, she sat in an almostunconscious state of horror, till roused by little Willy, who asked in aterrified breathless whisper, "Bee, is he dead?"

"No, no, no, " cried she, as if she could frighten away her own fears;"he is only stunned. He is--he must be alive. He will come to him-self!Help me to lift him up--here--that is it--his head on my lap--"

"O, the blood!" said Willy, recoiling in increased fear, as he saw itstreaming from one or two cuts and bruises on the side of the face. 

"That is not the worst, " said Beatrice. "There--hold him toward thewind. " She raised his head, untied his handkerchief, and hung over him;but there was not a sound, not a breath; his head sank a dead weighton her knee. She locked her hands together, and gazed wildly round forhelp; but no one all over the wide lonely common could be seen, exceptWilly, who stood helplessly looking at her. 

"Aunt Mary! O, Aunt Mary!" cried she, in a tone of the bitterest anguishof mind. "Fred--dear, dear Freddy, open your eyes, answer me! Oh, onlyspeak to me! O what shall I do?"

"Pray to God, " whispered Willy. 

"You--you--Willy; I can't--it was my doing. O, Aunt Mary!" A few momentspassed in silence, then she exclaimed, "What are we doing here?Willy, you must go and call them. The Hall is nearest; go through theplantation as fast as you can. Go to papa in the study; if he is notthere, find grandpapa--any one but Aunt Mary. Mind, Willy, don't let herhear it, it would kill her. Go, fly! You understand--any one but AuntMary. "

Greatly relieved at being sent out of sight of that senseless form, Willy required no second bidding, but rushed off at a pace which badefare to bring him to the Hall in a very brief space. Infinite were theramifications of thought that now began to chase each other over thesurface of her mind, as she sat supporting her cousin's head, all clearand distinct, yet all overshadowed by that agony of suspense whichmade her sit as if she was all eye and ear, watching for the slightestmotion, the faintest sound, that hope might seize as a sign of life. Shewiped away the blood which was streaming from the cuts in the face, andsoftly laid her trembling hand to seek for some trace of a blow amid thefair shining hair; she felt the pulse, but she could not satisfy herselfwhether it beat or not; she rubbed the cold hand between both her own, and again and again started with the hope that the long black eyelasheswere being lifted from the white cheek, or that she saw a quivering oflip or nostril. All this while her thoughts were straying miles away, and yet so wondrously and painfully present. As she thought of her UncleFrederick, and, as it were, realized his death, which had happened sonearly in this same manner, she experienced a sort of heart-sinkingwhich would almost make her believe in a fate on the family. And thatFred should be cut off in the midst of an act of disobedience, and shethe cause! O thought beyond endurance! She tried to pray for him, forherself, for her aunt, but no prayer would come; and suddenly she foundher mind pursuing Willy, following him through all the gates and gaps, entering the garden, opening the study door, seeing her father's suddenstart, hearing poor Henrietta's cry, devising how it would be broken toher aunt; and again, the misery of recollecting her overpowered her, and she gave a groan, the very sound of which thrilled her with the hopethat Fred was reviving, and made her, if possible, watch with doubleintenseness, and then utter a desponding sigh. She wished it was she wholay there, unconscious of such exceeding wretchedness, and, strangeto say, her imagination began to devise all that would be said were itreally so; what all her acquaintance would say of the little Queen Bee, how soon Matilda St. Leger would forget her, how long Henrietta wouldcherish the thought of her, how deeply and silently Alex would grieve. "He would be a son to papa, " she thought; but then came a picture of herhome, her father and mother without their only one, and tears came intoher eyes, which she brushed away, almost smiling at the absurdity ofcrying for her own imagined death, instead of weeping over this but toopositive and present distress. 

There was nothing to interrupt her; Fred lay as lifeless as before, and not a creature passed along the lonely road. The frosty air wasperfectly still, and through it sounded the barking of dogs, the tinkleof the sheep-bell, the woodsman's axe in the plantations, and now andthen the rattle of Dumple's harness, as she shook his head or shiftedhis feet at the gate where he had been left standing. The rooks wheeledabove her head in a clear blue sky, the little birds answering eachother from the high furze-bushes, and the pee-wits came careering nearher with their broad wings, floating movement, and long melancholy notelike lamentation. 

At length, far away, there sounded on the hard turnpike road a horse'stread, coming nearer and nearer. Help was at hand! Be it who itmight, some human sympathy would be with her, and that most oppressivesolitude, which seemed to have lasted for years instead of minutes, would be relieved. In almost an agony of nervousness lest the newcomermight pass by, she gently laid her cousin's head on the grass, and flewrather than ran towards the opening of the lane. She was too late, thehorseman had passed, but she recognised the shining hat, the form of theshoulders, and with a scream almost wild in its energy, called "Philip!O, Philip Carey!"

Joy, joy! he looked back, he turned his horse, and came up in amazementat finding her there, and asking questions which she could only answerby leading the way down the lane. 

In another moment he was off his horse, and she could almost have adoredhim when she heard him pronounce that Frederick lived. 

A few moments passed whilst he was handling his patient, and askingquestions, when Beatrice beheld some figures advancing from theplantation. She dashed through the heath and furze to meet them, sendingher voice before her with the good news, "He is alive! Philip Carey sayshe is alive!" and with these words she stood before her father and herAunt Mary. 

Her aunt seemed neither to see nor hear her; but with a face as whiteand still as a marble figure, hastened on. Mr. Geoffrey Langford stoppedfor an instant and looked at her with an expression such as she nevercould forget. "Beatrice, my child!" he exclaimed, "you are hurt!"

"No, no, papa, " she cried. "It is Fred's blood--I am quite, quite safe!"

He held her in his arms, pressed her close to him, and kissed her brow, with a whispered exclamation of fervent thankfulness. Beatrice couldnever remember that moment without tears; the tone, the look, theembrace, --all had revealed to her the fervour of her father's affection, beyond--far beyond all that she had ever imagined. It was but for oneinstant that he gave way; the next, he was hastening on, and stoodbeside Frederick as soon as his sister-in-law. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

The drawing-room at Knight Sutton Hall was in that state of bustleincidental to the expectation of company, which was sure to prevailwherever Mrs. Langford reigned. She walked about, removing the coversfrom chairs and ottomans, shaking out curtains, adjusting china, andappealing to Mrs. Frederick Langford in various matters of taste, thoughnever allowing her to move to assist her. Henrietta, however, oftencame to her help, and was certainly acting in a way to incur the severedispleasure of the absent queen, by laying aside Midas's robes to assistin the arrangements. "That picture is crooked, I am sure!" said Mrs. Langford; and of course she was not satisfied till she had summonedGeoffrey from the study to give his opinion, and had made him mount upona chair to settle its position. In the midst of the operation, in walkedUncle Roger. "Hollo! Geoffrey, what are you up to now? So, ma'am, youare making yourself smart to-day. Where is my father?"

"He has ridden over to see the South Farm, " said Mrs. Langford. 

"Oho! got out of the way of the beautifying, --I understand. "

"Have you seen anything of Fred and Busy Bee?" asked Mrs. FrederickLangford. "They went out directly after breakfast to walk to SuttonLeigh, and I have not seen them since. "

"O yes, " said Mr. Roger Langford, "I can tell you what has become ofthem; they are gone to Allonfield. I have just seen them off in the gig, and Will with them, after some of their acting affairs. "

Good, easy man; he little thought what a thunder-clap was thisintelligence. Uncle Geoffrey turned round on his elevation to look himfull in the face; every shade of colour left the countenance of Mrs. Frederick Langford; Henrietta let her work fall, and looked up indismay. 

"You don't mean that Fred was driving?" said her mother. 

"Yes, I do! Why my boys can drive long before they are that age, --surelyhe knows how!"

"O, Roger, what have you done!" said she faintly, as if the exclamationwould break from her in spite of herself. 

"Indeed, mamma, " said Henrietta, alarmed at her paleness, "I assureyou Fred has often told me how he has driven our own horses when he wassitting up by Dawson. "

"Ay, ay, Mary, " said Uncle Roger, "never fear. Depend upon it, boysdo many and many a thing that mammas never guess at, and come out withwhole bones after all. "

Henrietta, meantime, was attentively watching Uncle Geoffrey's face, inhopes of discovering what he thought of the danger; but she could learnnothing, for he kept his features as composed as possible. 

"I do believe those children are gone crazy about their acting, " saidMrs. Langford; "and how Mr. Langford can encourage them in it I cannotthink. So silly of Bee to go off in this way, when she might just aswell have sent by Martin!" And her head being pretty much engrossed withher present occupation, she went out to obey a summons from the kitchen, without much perception of the consternation that prevailed in thedrawing-room. 

"Did you know they were going, Henrietta?" asked Uncle Geoffrey, rathersternly. 

"No! I thought they meant to sent Alex. But O! uncle, do you think thereis any danger?" exclaimed she, losing self-control in the infection offear caught from the mute terror which she saw her mother strugglingto overcome. Her mother's inquiring, imploring glance followed herquestion. 

"Foolish children!" said Uncle Geoffrey, "I am very much vexed with theBee for her wilfulness about this scheme, but as for the rest, there ishardly a steadier animal than old Dumple, and he is pretty well used toyoung hands. "

Henrietta thought him quite satisfied, and even her mother was in somedegrees tranquillized, and would have been more so, had not Mr. RogerLangford begun to reason with her in the following style:--"Come, Mary, you need not be in the least alarmed. It is quite nonsense in you. You know a boy of any spirit will always be doing things that soundimprudent. I would not give a farthing for Fred if he was always to bethe mamma's boy you would make him. He is come to an age now when youcannot keep him up in that way, and he must get knocked about some timeor other. "

"O yes, I know I am very foolish, " said she, trying to smile. 

"I shall send up Elizabeth to talk to you, " said Uncle Roger. "She wouldhave a pretty life of it if she went into such a state as you do on allsuch occasions. "

"Enough to break the heart of ten horses, as they say in Ireland, " saidUncle Geoffrey, seeing that the best chance for her was to appear athis ease, and divert his brother's attention. "And by the by, Roger, younever told me if you heard any more of your poor Irish haymakers. "

"Why, Geoffrey, you have an absent fit now for once in your life, " saidhis brother. "Are you the man to ask if I heard any more of them, whenyou yourself gave me a sovereign to send them in the famine?"

Uncle Geoffrey, however, persevered, and finally succeeded in startingUncle Roger upon his favourite and inexhaustible subject of the doingsat the Allonfield Union. During this time Mrs. Frederick Langford put afew stitches into her work, found it would not do, and paused, stoodup, seemed to be observing the new arrangement in the room, --then tooka long look out at the window, and at last left the room. Henrietta ranafter her to assure her that she was convinced that Uncle Geoffrey wasnot alarmed, and to beg her to set her mind at rest. "Thank you, mydear, " said she. "I--no, really--you know how foolish I am, my dear, and I think I had rather be alone. Don't stay here and frighten yourselftoo; this is only my usual fright, and it will be better if I am leftalone. Go down, my dear, think about something else, and let me knowwhen they come home. "

With considerable reluctance Henrietta was obliged to obey, anddescended to the drawing-room, where the first words that met her earswere from Uncle Roger. "Well, I wish, with all my heart, they were safeat home again. But do you mean to say, Geoffrey, that I ought not tohave let them go?"

"I shall certainly come upon you for damages, if he breaks the neck oflittle Bee, " said Uncle Geoffrey. 

"If I had guessed it, " said Uncle Roger; "but then, you know, any ofmy boys would think nothing of driving Dumple, --even Dick I havetrusted, --and they came up--you should have seen them--as confidently asif he had been driving four-in-hand every day of his life. Upon my wordyour daughter has a tolerable spirit of her own, if she knew that hecould not drive. "

"A tolerable spirit of self-will, " said Uncle Geoffrey, with a sigh. "But did you see them off, how did they manage?"

"Ah! why there, I must confess, I was to blame, " said his brother. "Theydid clear out of the yard in a strange fashion, certainly, and I mighthave questioned a little closer. But never mind, 'tis all straight road. I would lay any wager they will come back safe, --boys always do. "

Uncle Geoffrey smiled, but Henrietta thought it a very bad sign thathe, too, looked out at the window; and the confidence founded on histranquillity deserted her. 

Uncle Roger forthwith returned to the fighting o'er again of his battlesat the Board of Guardians, and Henrietta was able to get to the window, where for some ten minutes she sat, and at length exclaimed with astart, "Here is Willy running across the paddock!"

"All right!" said Uncle Roger, "they must have stopped at Sutton Leigh!"

"It is the opposite way!" said Mr. Geoffrey Langford, who at the samemoment stepped up to the window. Henrietta's heart throbbed fearfully asshe saw how wearied was the boy's running, and yet how rapid. She couldhardly stand as she followed her uncles to the hall; her mother at thesame moment came downstairs, and all together met the little boy, as, breathless, exhausted, unable to speak, he rushed into the hall, andthrew himself upon his father, leaning his head against him and clingingas if he could not stand. 

"Why Will, how now, my boy? Have you been racing?" said his father, kneeling on one knee, and supporting the poor little wearied fellow, ashe almost lay upon his breast and shoulder. "What is the matter now?"

There was a deep silence only interrupted by the deep pantings ofthe boy. Henrietta leant on the banisters, giddy with suspense. UncleGeoffrey stepped into the dining-room, and brought back a glass ofwine and some water. Aunt Mary parted the damp hair that hung over hisforehead, laid her cold hand on it, and said, "Poor little fellow. "

At her voice Willy looked up, clung faster to his father, and whisperedsomething unintelligible. 

"What? Has anything happened? What is the matter?" were questionsanxiously asked, while Uncle Geoffrey in silence succeeded inadministering the wine; after which Willy managed to say, pointing tohis aunt, "Don't--tell--her. "

It was with a sort of ghastly composure that she leant over him, saying, "Don't be afraid, my dear, I am ready to hear it. "

He raised himself, and gazed at her in perplexity and wonder. Henrietta's violently throbbing heart took from her almost theperception of what was happening. 

"Take breath, Willy, " said his father; "don't keep us all anxious. "

"Bee said I was to tell Uncle Geoffrey, " said the boy. 

"Is she safe?" asked Aunt Mary, earnestly. 

"Yes. "

"Thanks to God, " said she, holding out her hand to Uncle Geoffrey, with a look of relief and congratulation, and yet of inexpressiblemournfulness which went to his heart. 

"And Fred?" said Uncle Roger. 

"Do not ask, Roger, " said she, still as calmly as before; "I always knewhow it would be. "

Henrietta tried to exclaim, to inquire, but her lips would not frame oneword, her tongue would not leave the roof of her mouth. She heard a fewconfused sounds, and then a mist came over her eyes, a rushing of watersin her ears, and she sank on the ground in a fainting fit. When she cameto herself she was lying on the sofa in the drawing-room, and all wasstill. 

"Mamma!" said she. 

"Here, dear child, "--but it was Mrs. Langford's voice. 

"Mamma!" again said she. "Where is mamma? Where are they all? Why doesthe room turn round?"

"You have not been well, my dear, " said her grandmother; "but drinkthis, and lie still, you will soon be better. "

"Where is mamma?" repeated Henrietta, gazing round and seeing no one butMrs. Langford and Bennet. "Was she frightened at my being ill? Tell herI am better. "

"She knows it, my dear: lie still and try to go to sleep. "

"But weren't there a great many people?" said Henrietta. "Were we notin the hall? Did not Willy come? O! grandmamma, grandmamma, do tell me, where are mamma and Fred?"

"They will soon be here, I hope. "

"But, grandmamma, " cried she vehemently, turning herself round asclearer recollection returned, "something has happened--O! what hashappened to Fred?"

"Nothing very serious, we hope, my dear, " said Mrs. Langford. "It wasWilly who frightened you. Fred has had a fall, and your mamma and unclesare gone to see about him. "

"A fall! O, tell me, tell me! I am sure it is something dreadful! O, tell me all about it, grandmamma, is he much hurt? O, Freddy, Freddy!"

With more quietness than could have been anticipated from so active andbustling a nature, Mrs. Langford gradually told her granddaughter allthat she knew, which was but little, as she had been in attendanceon her, and had only heard the main fact of Willy's story. Henriettaclapped her hands wildly together in an agony of grief. "He iskilled--he is, I'm sure of it!" said she. "Why do you not tell me so?"

"My dear, I trust and believe that he is only stunned. "

"No, no, no! papa was killed in that way, and I am sure he is! O, Fred, Fred, my own dear, dear brother, my only one! O, I cannot bear it! O, Fred!"

She rose up from the sofa, and walked and down the room in an ecstasy ofsorrow. "And it was I that helped to bring him here! It was my doing! O, my own, my dearest, my twin brother, I cannot live without him!"

"Henrietta, " said Mrs. Langford, "you do not know what you are saying;you must bear the will of God, be it what it may. "

"I can't, I can not, " repeated Henrietta; "if I am to lose him, I can'tlive; I don't care for anything without Fred!"

"Your mother, Henrietta. "

"Mamma! O, don't speak of her; she would die, I am sure she would, without him; and then I should too, for I should have nothing. "

Henrietta's grief was the more ungovernable that it was chiefly selfish;there was little thought of her mother, --little, indeed, for anythingbut the personal loss to herself. She hid her face in her hands, andsobbed violently, though without a tear, while Mrs. Langford vainlytried to make her hear of patience and resignation, turning away, andsaying, "I can't be patient--no, I can't!" and then again repeating herbrother's name with all the fondest terms of endearment. 

Then came a sudden change: it was possible that he yet lived--and shebecame certain that he had been only stunned for a moment, and requiredher grandmamma to be so too. Mrs. Langford, at the risk of a crueldisappointment, was willing to encourage her hope; but Henrietta, fancying herself treated like a petted child, chose to insist on beingtold really and exactly what was her view of the case. Then she wasurgent to go out and meet the others, and learn the truth; but this Mrs. Langford would not permit. It was in kindness, to spare her some fearfulsight, which might shock and startle her, but Henrietta was far fromtaking it so; her habitual want of submission made itself felt in spiteof her usual gentleness, now that she had been thrown off her balance, and she burst into a passionate fit of weeping. 

In such a dreadful interval of suspense, her conduct was, perhaps, scarcely under her own control; and it is scarcely just to mention itas a subject of blame. But, be it remembered that it was the effect ofa long previous selfishness and self-will; quiet, amiable selfishness;gentle, caressing self-will; but no less real, and more perilous anddeceitful. But for this, Henrietta would have thought more of hermother, prepared for her comfort, and braced herself in order to be asupport to her; she would have remembered how terrible must be theshock to her grandmother in her old age, and how painful must be theremembrances thus excited of the former bereavement; and in the attemptto console her, the sense of her own sorrow would have been in somedegree relieved; whereas she now seemed to forget that Frederickwas anything to any one but herself. She prayed, but it was one wildrepetition of "O, give him back to me!--save his life!--let him be safeand well!" She had no room for any other entreaty; she did not callfor strength and resignation on the part of herself and her mother, forwhatever might be appointed; she did not pray that his life might begranted only if it was for his good; she could ask nothing but that herown beloved brother might be spared to herself, and she ended her prayeras unsubdued, and therefore as miserable, as when she began it. 

The first intelligence that arrived was brought by Uncle Roger andBeatrice, who, rather to their surprise, came back in the gig, andgreatly relieved their minds with the intelligence of Frederick's life, and of Philip Carey's arrival. Henrietta had sprung eagerly up on theirfirst entrance, with parted lips and earnest eyes, and listened to theirnarration with trembling throbbing hope, but with scarcely a word; andwhen she heard that Fred still lay senseless and motionless, she againturned away, and hid her face on the arm of the sofa, without one lookat Beatrice, reckless of the pang that shot through the heart of oneflesh from that trying watch over her brother. Beatrice hoped for oneword, one kiss, and looked wistfully at the long veil of half uncurledringlets that floated over the crossed arms on which her foreheadrested, and meantime submitted with a kind of patient indifference toher grandmother's caress, drank hot wine and water, sat by the fire, and finally was sent upstairs to change her dress. Too restless, tooanxious, too wretched to stay there alone, longing for some interchangeof sympathy, --but her mind too turbid with agitation to seek it where itwould most surely have been found, --she hastened down again. Grandmammawas busied in giving directions for the room which was being preparedfor Fred; Uncle Roger had walked out to meet those who were conveyinghim home: and Henrietta was sitting in the window, her forehead restingagainst the glass, watching intently for their arrival. 

"Are they coming?" asked Beatrice anxiously. 

"No!" was all the answer, hardly uttered, and without looking round, asif her cousin's entrance was perfectly indifferent to her. Beatrice wentup and stood by her, looking out for a few minutes; then taking the handthat lay in her lap, she said in an imploring whisper, "Henrietta, youforgive me?"

The hand lay limp and lifeless in hers, and Henrietta scarcely raisedher face as she answered, in a low, languid, dejected voice, "Of course, Bee, only I am so wretched. Don't talk to me. "

Her head sunk again, and Beatrice stepped hastily back to the fire, witha more bitter feeling than she had ever known. This was no forgiveness;it was worse than anger or reproach; it was a repulse, and that when herwhole heart was yearning to relieve the pent-up oppression that almostchoked her, by weeping with her. She leant her burning forehead on thecool marble chimney-piece, and longed for her mother, --longed for heralmost as much for her papa's, her Aunt Mary's and her grandmother'ssake, as for her own. But O! what an infinite relief would one talk withher have been! She turned toward the table, and thought of writing toher, but her hand was trembling--every pulse throbbing; she could noteven sit still enough to make the attempt. 

At last she saw Henrietta spring to her feet, and hastening to thewindow beheld the melancholy procession; Fred carried on a mattress byUncle Geoffrey and three of the labourers; Philip Carey walking at oneside, and on the other Mrs. Frederick Langford leaning on Uncle Roger'sarm. 

Both girls hurried out to meet them, but all attention was at thatmoment for the patient, as he was carried in on his mattress, anddeposited for a few minutes on the large hall table. Henrietta pushedbetween her uncles, and made her way up to him, unconscious of thepresence of anyone else--even of her mother--while she clasped his hand, and hanging over him looked with an agonized intensity at his motionlessfeatures. The next moment she felt her mother's hand on her shoulder, and was forced to turn round and look into her face: the sweet mournfulmeekness of which came for a moment like a soft cooling breeze upon thedry burning desert of her grief. 

"My poor child, " said the gentle voice. 

"O, mamma, is--is--. " She could not speak; her face was violentlyagitated, and the very muscles of her throat quivered. 

"They hope for the best, my dear, " was the reply; but both Mr. GeoffreyLangford and Beatrice distinguished her own hopelessness in theintonation, and the very form of the expression: whereas Henrietta onlytook in and eagerly seized the idea of comfort which it was intendedto convey to her. She would have inquired more, but Mrs. Langford wastelling her mother of the arrangements she had made, and entreating herto take some rest. 

"Thank you, ma'am, --thank you very much indeed--you are very kind: I amvery sorry to give you so much trouble, " were her answers; and simple aswere the words, there was a whole world of truth and reality in them. 

Preparations were now made for carrying Fred up stairs, but even atthat moment Aunt Mary was not without thought for Beatrice, who wasretreating, as if she feared to be as much in her way as she had been inHenrietta's. 

"I did not see you, before, Queenie, " she said, holding out her hand andkissing her, "you have gone through more than any one. "

A thrill of fond grateful affection brought the tears into Queen Bee'seyes. How much there was even in the pronunciation of that pet playfulname to touch her heart, and fill it to overflowing with love andcontrition. She longed to pour out her whole confession, but there wasno one to attend to her--the patient occupied the whole attention ofall. He was carried to his mother's room, placed in bed, and againexamined by young Mr. Carey, who pronounced with increased confidencethat there was no fracture, and gave considerable hopes of improvement. While this was passing, Henrietta sat on the upper step of the stairs, her head on her hands, scarcely moving or answering when addressed. Asevening twilight began to close in, the surgeon left the room, and wentdown to make his report to those who were anxiously awaiting it in thedrawing-room; and she took advantage of his exit to come to the door, and beg to be let in. 

Uncle Geoffrey admitted her; and her mother, who was sitting by thebed-side, held out her hand. Henrietta came up to her, and at firststood by her, intently watching her brother; then after a time sat downon a footstool, and, with her head resting on her mother's lap, gaveherself up to a sort of quiet heavy dream, which might be called thevery luxury of grief. Uncle Geoffrey sat by the fire, watchinghis sister-in-law even more anxiously than the patient, and thus aconsiderable interval passed in complete silence, only broken by thecrackling of the fire, the ticking of the watches, or some slight changeof posture of one or other of the three nurses. At last the stillnesswas interrupted by a little movement among the bedclothes, and with afeeling like transport, Henrietta saw the hand, which had hitherto lainso still and helpless, stretched somewhat out, and the head turned uponthe pillow. Uncle Geoffrey stood up, and Mrs. Frederick Langford pressedher daughter's hand with a sort of convulsive tremor. A faint voicemurmured "Mamma!" and while a flush of trembling joy illumined her paleface, she bent over him, answering him eagerly and fondly, but he didnot seem to know her, and again repeating "Mamma, " opened his eyes witha vacant gaze, and tried in vain to express some complaint. 

In a short time, however, he regained a partial degree of consciousness. He knew his mother, and was continually calling to her, as if for thesake of feeling her presence, but without recognizing any other person, not even his sister or his uncle. Henrietta stood gazing sadly upon him, while his mother hung over him soothing his restlessness, and answeringhis half-uttered complaints, and Uncle Geoffrey was ever ready withassistance and comfort to each in turn, as it was needed, and especiallysupporting his sister-in-law with that sense of protection and relianceso precious to a sinking heart. 

Aunt Roger came up to announce that dinner was ready, and to beg thatshe might stay with Fred while the rest went down. Mrs. FrederickLangford only shook her head, and thanked her, saying with a painfulsmile that it was impossible, but begging Uncle Geoffrey and Henriettato go. The former complied, knowing how much alarm his absence wouldcreate downstairs; but Henrietta declared that she could not bear thethoughts of going down, and it was only by a positive order that hesucceeded in making her come with him. Grandpapa kissed her, and madeher sit by him, and grandmamma loaded her plate with all that was beston the table, but she looked at it with disgust, and leaning back in herchair, faintly begged not to be asked to eat. 

Uncle Geoffrey poured out a glass of wine, and said in a tone whichstartled her by its unwonted severity, "This will not do, Henrietta; Icannot allow you to add to your mamma's troubles by making yourself ill. I desire you will eat, as you certainly can. "

Every one was taken by surprise, and perhaps Mrs. Langford might haveinterfered, but for a sign from grandpapa. Henrietta, with a feelingof being cruelly treated, silently obeyed, swallowed down the wine, andhaving done so, found herself capable of making a very tolerable dinner, by which she was greatly relieved and refreshed. 

Uncle Geoffrey said a few cheering words to his father and mother, and returned to Fred's room as soon as he could, without giving thatappearance of hurry and anxiety which would have increased their alarm. Henrietta, without the same thoughtfulness, rushed rather than ran afterhim, and neither of the two came down again to tea. 

Philip Carey was to stay all night, and though Beatrice was of coursevery glad that he should do so, yet she was much harassed by theconversation kept up with him for civility's sake. She had beenleading a forlorn dreary life all the afternoon, busy first in helpinggrandmamma to write notes to be sent to the intended guests, andafterwards, with a feeling of intense disgust, putting out of sight allthe preparations for their own self-chosen sport. She desired quiet, andyet when she found it, it was unendurable, and to talk to her father orgrandfather would be a great relief, yet the first beginning might wellbe dreaded. Neither of them was forthcoming, and now in the evening tohear the quiet grave discussion of Allonfield gossip was excessivelyharassing and irritating. No one spoke for their own pleasure, thethoughts of all were elsewhere, and they only talked thus for the sakeof politeness; but she gave them no credit for this, and felt frettedand wearied beyond bearing. Even this, however, was better than whenthey did return to the engrossing thought, and spoke of the accident, requiring of her a more exact and particular account of it. She hurriedover it. Grandmamma praised her, and each word was a sting. 

"But, my dear, " said Mrs. Roger Langford, "what could have made you soanxious to go to Allonfield?"

"O, Aunt Roger, it was very--" but here Beatrice, whose agitated spiritsmade her particularly accessible to momentary emotion, was seized withsuch a sense of the absurdity of undertaking so foolish an expedition, with no other purpose than going to buy a pair of ass's ears, that shewas overpowered by a violent fit of laughing. Grandmamma and Aunt Roger, after looking at her in amazement for a moment, both started up, andcame towards her with looks of alarm that set her off again still moreuncontrollably. She struggled to speak, but that only made it worse, andwhen she perceived that she was supposed to be hysterical, she laughedthe more, though the laughter was positive pain. Once she for a momentsucceeded in recovering some degree of composure, but every kinddemonstration of solicitude brought on a fresh access of laughter, anda certain whispering threat of calling Philip Carey was worse than all. When, however, Aunt Roger was actually setting off for the purpose, thedread of his coming had a salutary effect, and enabled her to make aviolent effort, by which she composed herself, and at length sat quitestill, except for the trembling, which she could not control. 

Grandmamma and Aunt Roger united in ordering her to bed, but she couldnot bear to go without seeing her papa, nor would she accept Mrs. Langford's offer of calling him; and at last a compromise was made thatshe should go up to bed on condition that her papa should come and visither when he came out of Fred's room. Her grandmamma came up with her, helped her to undress, gave her the unwonted indulgence of a fire, andsummoned Judith to prepare things as quickly and quietly as possiblefor Henrietta, who was to sleep with her that night. It was withmuch difficulty that she could avoid making a promise to go to bedimmediately, and not to get up to breakfast. At last, with a veryaffectionate kiss, grandmamma left her to brush her hair, an operationwhich she resolved to lengthen out until her papa's visit. 

It was long before he came, but at last his step was heard along thepassage, his knock was at her door. She flew to it, and stood beforehim, her large black eyes looking larger, brighter, blacker than usualfrom the contrast with the pale or rather sallow face, and the whitenightcap and dressing-gown. 

"How is Fred?" asked she as well as her parched tongue would allow herto speak. 

"Much the same, only talking a little more. But why are you up still?Your grandmamma said--"

"Never mind, papa, " interrupted she, "only tell me this--is Fred indanger?"

"You have heard all we can tell, my dear--"

Beatrice interrupted him by an impatient, despairing look, and claspedher hands: "I know--I know; but what do you think?"

"My own impression is, " said her father, in a calm, kind, yet almostreproving tone, as if to warn her to repress her agitation, "that thereis no reason to give up hope, although it is impossible yet to ascertainthe extent of the injury. "

Beatrice retreated a step or two: she stood by the table, one hand uponit, as if for support, yet her figure quite erect, her eyes fixed on hisface, and her voice firm, though husky, as she said, slowly and quietly, "Papa, if Fred dies, it is my doing. "

His face did not express surprise or horror--nothing but kindness andcompassion, while he answered, "My poor girl, I was afraid how it mighthave been. " Then he led her to a chair and sat down by her side, soas to let her perceive that he was ready to listen, and would give hertime. He might be in haste, but it was no time to show it. 

She now spoke with more hurry and agitation, "Yes, yes, papa, it was thevery thing you warned me against--I mean--I mean--the being set in myown way, and liking to tease the boys. O if I could but speak to tellyou all, but it seems like a weight here choking me, " and she touchedher throat. "I can't get it out in words! O!" Poor Beatrice even groanedaloud with oppression. 

"Do not try to express it, " said her father: "at least, it is not I whocan give you the best comfort. Here"--and he took up a Prayer Book. 

"Yes, I feel as if I could turn there now I have told you, papa, " saidBeatrice; "but when I could not get at you, everything seemed dried upin me. Not one prayer or confession would come;--but now, O! now youknow it, and--and--I feel as if He would not turn away His face. Do youknow I did try the 51st Psalm, but it would not do, not even 'deliver mefrom blood-guiltiness, ' it would only make me shudder! O, papa, it wasdreadful!"

Her father's answer was to draw her down on her knees by his side, andread a few verses of that very Psalm, and a few clauses of the prayerfor persons troubled in mind, and he ended with the Lord's Prayer. Beatrice, when it was over, leant her head against him, and did notspeak, nor weep, but she seemed refreshed and relieved. He watched heranxiously and affectionately, doubting whether it was right to bestow somuch time on her exclusively, yet unwilling to leave her. When she againspoke, it was in a lower, more subdued, and softer voice, "Aunt Marywill forgive me, I know; you will tell her, papa, and then it willnot be quite so bad! Now I can pray that he may be saved--O, papa--disobedient, and I the cause; how could I ever bear the thought?"

"You can only pray, " replied her father. 

"Now that I can once more, " said Beatrice; and again there was asilence, while she stood thinking deeply, but contrary to her usualhabit, not speaking, and he knowing well her tendency to lose herrepentant feelings by expressing them, was not willing to interrupt her. So they remained for nearly ten minutes, until at last he thought ittime to leave her, and made some movement as if to do so. Then shespoke, "Only tell me one thing, papa. Do you think Aunt Mary has anyhope? There was something--something death-like in her face. Does shehope?"

Mr. Geoffrey Langford shook his head. "Not yet, " said he. "I think itmay be better after this first night is over. She is evidently reckoningthe hours, and I think she has a kind of morbid expectation that itwill be as it was with his father, who lived twelve hours after hisaccident. "

"But surely, surely, " said Beatrice eagerly, "this is a very differentcase; Fred has spoken so much more than my uncle did; and Philip says heis convinced that there is no fracture--"

"It is a morbid feeling, " said Mr. Geoffrey Langford, "and thereforeimpossible to be reasoned away. I see she dreads to be told to hope, andI shall not even attempt it till these fatal twelve hours are over. "

"Poor dear aunt!" sighed Beatrice. "I am glad, if it was to be, that youwere here, for nobody else would understand her. "

"Understand her!" said he, with something of a smile. "No, Bee, such sorrow as hers has a sacredness in it which is not what can beunderstood. "

Beatrice sighed, and then with a look as if she saw a ray of comfort, said, "I suppose mamma will soon be here?"

"I think not, " said her father, "I shall tell her she had better waitto see how things go on, and keep herself in reserve. At present it isneedlessly tormenting your aunt to ask her to leave Fred for a moment, and I do not think she has even the power to rest. While this goes on, I am of more use in attending to him than your mamma could be; but ifhe is a long time recovering, it will be a great advantage to have hercoming fresh, and not half knocked up with previous attendance. "

"But how she will wish to be here!" exclaimed Beatrice, "and how youwill want her!"

"No doubt of that, Queenie, " said her father smiling, "but we mustreserve our forces, and I think she will be of the same mind. Well, Imust go. Where is Henrietta to sleep to-night?"

"With me, " said Beatrice. 

"I will send her to you as soon as I can. You must do what you can withher, Bee, for I can see that the way she hangs on her mamma is quiteoppressive. If she had but a little vigour!"

"I don't know what to do about her!" said Beatrice with more dejectionthan she had yet shown, "I wish I could be of any comfort to her, but Ican't--I shall never do good to anybody--only harm. "

"Fear the harm, and the good will come, " said Mr. Geoffrey Langford. "Good night, my dear. "

Beatrice threw herself on her knees as soon as the door had closed onher father, and so remained for a considerable time in one earnest, unexpressed outpouring of confession and prayer, for how long she knewnot, all that she was sensible of was a feeling of relief, the repose ofsuch humility and submission, such heartfelt contrition as she had neverknown before. 

So she continued till she heard Henrietta's approaching steps, when sherose and opened the door, ready to welcome her with all the affectionand consolation in her power. There stood Henrietta, a heavy weight onher eyes, her hair on one side all uncurled and flattened, the colouron half her face much deepened, and a sort of stupor about her wholeperson, as if but one idea possessed her. Beatrice went up to meet her, and took her candle, asking what account she brought of the patient. "Nobetter, " was all the answer, and she sat down making no more detailedanswers to all her cousin's questions. She would have done the same toher grandmamma, or any one else, so wrapped up was she in her own grief, but this conduct gave more pain to Beatrice than it could have doneto any one else, since it kept up the last miserable feeling of beingunforgiven. Beatrice let her sit still for some minutes, looking ather all the time with an almost piteous glance of entreaty, of whichHenrietta was perfectly unconscious, and then began to beg her toundress, seconding the proposal by beginning to unfasten her dress. 

Henrietta moved pettishly, as if provoked at being disturbed. 

"I beg your pardon, dear Henrietta, " said Beatrice; "if you would butlet me! You will be ill to-morrow, and that would be worse still. "

"No, I shan't, " said Henrietta shortly, "never mind me. "

"But I must, dear Henrietta. If you would but--"

"I can't go to bed, " replied Henrietta, "thank you, Bee, never mind--"

Beatrice stood still, much distressed at her own inability to be of anyservice, and pained far more by the sight of Henrietta's grief than bythe unkind rejection of herself. "Papa thinks there is great hope, " saidshe abruptly. 

"Mamma does not, " said Henrietta, edging away from her cousin as if toput an end to the subject. 

Beatrice almost wrung her hands. O this wilfulness of grief, how hardit was to contend with it! At last there was a knock at the door--it wasgrandmamma, suspecting that they were still up. Little recked Beatriceof the scolding that fell on herself for not having been in bed hoursago; she was only rejoiced at the determination that swept away allHenrietta's feeble opposition. The bell was rung, Bennet was summoned, grandmamma peremptorily ordered her to be undressed, and in anotherhalf-hour the cousins were lying side by side, Henrietta's lethargyhad become a heavy sleep, Beatrice was broad awake, listening to everysound, forming every possible speculation on the future, and to her ownoverstretched fancy seeming actually to feel the thoughts chasing eachother through her throbbing head. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

"Half-past one, " said Mr. Geoffrey Langford, as if it was a mere casualobservation, though in reality it was the announcement that the fataltwelve hours had passed more than half-an-hour since. 

There was no answer, but he heard a slight movement, and thoughcarefully avoiding any attempt to penetrate the darkness around the sickbed, he knew full well that his sister was on her knees, and when heagain heard her voice in reply to some rambling speech of her son, ithad a tremulous tone, very unlike its former settled hopelessness. 

Again, when Philip Carey paid his morning visit, she studied theexpression of his face with anxious, inquiring, almost hopeful eyes, thecrushed heart-broken indifference of yesterday had passed away; and whenthe expedience of obtaining further advice was hinted at, she caughtat the suggestion with great eagerness, though the day before her onlyanswer had been, "As you think right. " She spoke so as to show thegreatest consideration for the feelings of Philip Carey, then withher usual confiding spirit, she left the selection of the person tobe called in entirely to him, to her brother and father-in-law, andreturned to her station by Frederick, who had already missed andsummoned her. 

Philip, in spite of the small follies which provoked Beatrice's sarcasm, was by no means deficient in good sense or ability; his education hadowed much to the counsels of Mr. Geoffrey Langford, whom he regardedwith great reverence, and he was so conscious of his own inexperienceand diffident of his own opinion, as to be very anxious for assistancein this, the first very serious case which had fallen under his ownmanagement. The proposal had come at first from himself, and this was acause of great rejoicing to those who had to reconcile Mrs. Langford tothe measure. In her eyes a doctor was a doctor, member of a privilegedfraternity in which she saw no distinctions, and to send for advicefrom London would, she thought, not only hurt the feelings of Mrs. Roger Langford, and all the Carey connection, but seriously injure thereputation of young Mr. Carey in his own neighbourhood. 

Grandpapa answered, and Beatrice was glad he did so, that suchconsiderations were as nothing when weighed in the scale againstFrederick's life; she was silenced, but unconvinced, and unhappy tillher son Geoffrey, coming down late to breakfast, greatly comfortedher by letting her make him some fresh toast with her own hands, andpersuading her that it would be greatly in favour of Philip's practicethat his opinion should be confirmed by an authority of note. 

The electric telegraph and the railroad brought the surgeon even beforeshe had begun seriously to expect him, and his opinion was completelysatisfactory as far as regarded Philip Carey and the measures alreadytaken; Uncle Geoffrey himself feeling convinced that his approval wasgenuine, and not merely assumed for courtesy's sake. He gave them, too, more confident hope of the patient than Philip, in his diffidence, hadventured to do, saying that though there certainly was concussion of thebrain, he thought there was great probability that the patient would dowell, provided that they could combat the feverish symptoms which hadbegun to appear. He consulted with Philip Carey, the future treatmentwas agreed upon, and he left them with cheered and renewed spirits toenter on a long and anxious course of attendance. Roger, who was obligedto go away the next day, cheered up his brother Alex into a certaintythat Fred would be about again in a week, and though no one but the boysshared the belief, yet the assurances of any one so sanguine, inspiredthem all with something like hope. 

The attendance at first fell almost entirely on Mrs. FrederickLangford and Uncle Geoffrey, for the patient, who had now recovered aconsiderable degree of consciousness, would endure no one else. If hismother's voice did not answer him the first moment, he instantly grewrestless and uneasy, and the plaintive inquiry, "Is Uncle Geoffreyhere?" was many times repeated. He would recognise Henrietta, but hisusual answer to her was "You speak so loud;" though in reality, her tonewas almost exactly the same as her mother's; and above all others hedisliked the presence of Philip Carey. 

"Who is that?" inquired he, the first time that he was at all consciousof the visits of other people: and when his mother explained, he askedquickly, "Is he gone?"

The next day, Fred was alive to all that was going on, but sufferingconsiderable pain, and with every sense quickened to the most acute anddistressing degree, his eyes dazzled by light which, as he declared, glanced upon the picture frames in a room where his mother and unclecould scarcely see to find their way, and his ears pierced, as itwere, by the slightest sound in the silent house, sleepless withpain, incapable of thought, excessively irritable in temper, and hisfaculties, as it seemed, restored only to be the means of suffering. Mrs. Langford came to the door to announce that Philip Carey was come. Mr. Geoffrey Langford went to speak to him, and grandmamma and Henriettabegan to arrange the room a little for his reception. Fred, however, soon stopped this. "I can't bear the shaking, " said he. "Tell them toleave off, mamma. "

Grandmamma, unconscious of the pain she was inflicting, and believingthat she made not the slightest noise, continued to put the chairsin order, but Fred gave an impatient, melancholy sort of groan andexclamation, and Mrs. Langford remarked, "Well, if he cannot bear it, itcannot be helped; but it is quite dangerous in this dark room!" And outshe went, Fred frowning with pain at every step she took. 

"Why do you let people come?" asked he sharply of his mother. "Where isUncle Geoffrey gone?"

"He is speaking with Mr. Philip Carey, my dear, he will be here with himdirectly. "

"I don't want Philip Carey; don't let him come. "

"My dear boy, he must come; he has not seen you to-day, perhaps he maydo something for this sad pain. "

Fred turned away impatiently, and at the same moment Uncle Geoffreyopened the door to ask if Fred was ready. 

"Yes, " said Mrs. Frederick Langford: and Philip entered. But Fred wouldnot turn towards him till desired to do so, nor give his hand readilyfor his pulse to be felt. Philip thought it necessary to see his facea little more distinctly, and begged his pardon for having the windowshutters partly opened; but Fred contrived completely to frustrate hisintention, as with an exclamation which had in it as much of anger as ofpain, he turned his face inwards to the pillow, and drew the bed-clothesover it. 

"My dear boy, " said his mother, pleadingly, "for one moment only!"

"I told you I could not bear the light, " was all the reply. 

"If you would but oblige me for a few seconds, " said Philip. 

"Fred!" said his uncle gravely; and Fred made a slight demonstration asif to obey, but at the first glimpse of the dim light, he hid his faceagain, saying, "I can't;" and Philip gave up the attempt, closed theshutter, unfortunately not quite as noiselessly as Uncle Geoffrey hadopened it, and proceeded to ask sundry questions; to which the patientscarcely vouchsafed a short and pettish reply. When at last he quittedthe room, and was followed by Mrs. Frederick Langford, a "Don't go, mamma, " was immediately heard. 

"You must spare me for a very little while, my dear, " said she, gentlybut steadily. 

"Don't stay long, then, " replied he. 

Uncle Geoffrey came up to his bedside, and with a touch soft and lightas a woman's, arranged the coverings disturbed by his restlessness, and for a few moments succeeded in tranquillizing him, but almostimmediately he renewed his entreaties that his mother would return, andhad it been any other than his uncle who had taken her place, would havegrumbled at his not going to call her. On her return, she was greetedwith a discontented murmur. "What an immense time you have stayedaway!"--presently after, "I wish you would not have that Carey!" andthen, "I wish we were at Rocksand, --I wish Mr. Clarke were here. "

Patience in illness is a quality so frequently described in books aswell as actually found in real life, that we are apt to believe that itcomes as a matter of course, and without previous training, particularlyin the young, and that peevishness is especially reserved for theold and querulous, who are to try the amiability of the heroine. Toa certain degree, this is often the case; the complete prostration ofstrength, and the dim awe of approaching death in the acute illnessesof the young, often tame down the stubborn or petulant temper, and theirpatience and forbearance become the wonder and admiration of those whohave seen germs of far other dispositions. And when this is not thecase, who would have the heart to complain? Certainly not those whoare like the mother and uncle who had most to endure from the exactinghumours of Frederick Langford. High spirits, excellent health, a certaindegree of gentleness of character, and a home where, though he was notover indulged, there was little to ruffle him, all had hitherto combinedto make him appear one of the most amiable good-tempered boys that everexisted; but there was no substance in this apparent good quality, itwas founded on no real principle of obedience or submission, and when toan habitual spirit of determination to have his own way, was superaddedthe irritability of nerves which was a part of his illness, when hispowers of reflection were too much weakened to endure or comprehendargument; when, in fact, nothing was left to fall back upon but thesimple obedience which would have been required in a child, and whenthat obedience was wanting, what could result but increased discomfortto himself and all concerned? Yes, even as we should lay up a store ofprayers against that time when we shall be unable to pray for ourselves, so surely should we lay up a store of habits against the time when wemay be unable to think or reason for ourselves! How often havelives been saved by the mere instinct of unquestioning instantaneousobedience!

Had Frederick possessed that instinct, how much present suffering andfuture wretchedness might have been spared him! His ideas were as yettoo disconnected for him to understand or bear in mind that he wassubjecting his mother to excessive fatigue, but the habit of submissionwould have led him to bear her absence patiently, instead of perpetuallyinterrupting even the short repose which she would now and then bepersuaded to seek on the sofa. He would have spared her his perpetual, harassing complaints, not so much of the pain he suffered, as of everything and every person who approached him, his Uncle Geoffrey being theonly person against whom he never murmured. Nor would he have rebelledagainst measures to which he was obliged to submit in the end, afterhe had distressed every one and exhausted himself by his fruitlessopposition. 

It was marvellous that the only two persons whose attendance he wouldendure could bear up under the fatigue. Even Uncle Geoffrey, one ofthose spare wiry men, who, without much appearance of strength arenevertheless capable of such continued exertion, was beginning tolook worn and almost aged, and yet Mrs. Frederick Langford was stillindefatigable, unconscious of weariness, quietly active, absorbed inthe thought of her son, and yet not so absorbed as not to be full ofconsideration for all around. All looked forward with apprehension tothe time when the consequences of such continued exertion must befelt, but in the meantime it was not in the power of any one except herbrother Geoffrey to be of any assistance to her, and her relations couldonly wait and watch with such patience as they could command, for theperiod when their services might be effectual. 

Mrs. Langford was the most visibly impatient. The hasty bustling of hervery quietest steps gave such torture to Frederick, as to excuse theupbraiding eyes which he turned on his poor perplexed mother whenevershe entered the room; and her fresh arrangements and orders alwayscreated a disturbance, which created such positive injury, that it wasthe aim of the whole family to prevent her visits there. This was, as may be supposed, no easy task. Grandpapa's "You had better not, mydear, " checked her for a little while, but was far from satisfying her:Uncle Geoffrey, who might have had the best chance, had not time tospare for her; and no one could persuade her how impossible, nay, howdangerous it was to attempt to reason with the patient: so she blamedthe whole household for indulging his fancies, and half a dozen timesa day pronounced that he would be the death of his mother. Beatrice didthe best she could to tranquillise her; but two spirits so apt to clashdid not accord particularly well even now, though Busy Bee was too muchdepressed to queen it as usual. To feel herself completely useless inthe midst of the suffering she had occasioned was a severe trial; andabove all, poor child, she longed for her mother, and the repose ofconfession and parental sympathy. She saw her father only at meal times;she was anxious and uneasy at his worn looks, and even he could not beall that her mother was. Grandpapa was kind as ever, but the fault thatsat so heavy on her mind was not one for discussion with any one but amother, and this consciousness was the cause of a little reserve withhim, such as had never before existed between them. 

Alexander was more of a comfort to her than any one else, and thatchiefly because he wanted her to be a comfort to him. All the strongaffection and esteem which he really entertained for Frederick was nowmanifested, and the remembrance of old rivalries and petty contentionsserved but to make the reaction stronger. He kept aloof from hisbrothers, and spent every moment he could at the Hall, either reading inthe library, or walking up and down the garden paths with Queen Bee. Oneof the many conversations which they held will serve as a specimen ofthe rest. 

"So they do not think he is much better to-day?" said Alex, walking intothe library, where Beatrice was sealing some letters. 

Beatrice shook her head. "Every day that he is not worse is so muchgained, " said she. 

"It is very odd, " meditated Alex: "I suppose the more heads have inthem, the easier it is to knock them!"

Beatrice smiled. "Thick skulls are proverbial, you know, Alex. "

"Well, I really believe it is right. Look, Bee, " and he examined his ownface in the glass over the chimney; "there, do you see a little bit ofa scar under my eyebrow?--there! Well, that was where I was knocked overby a cricket-ball last half, pretty much harder than poor Fredcould have come against the ground, --but what harm did it do me? Whyeverything spun round with me for five minutes or so, and I had a blackeye enough to have scared you, but I was not a bit the worse otherwise. Poor Fred, he was quite frightened for me I believe; for the first thingI saw was him, looking all green and yellow, standing over me, and so Igot up and laughed at him for thinking I could care about it. That wasthe worst of it! I wish I had not been always set against him. I wouldgive anything now. "

"Well, but Alex, I don't understand. You were very good friends at thebottom, after all; you can't have anything really to repent of towardshim. "

"Oh, haven't I though?" was the reply. "It was more the other fellows'doing than my own, to be sure, and yet, after all, it was worse, knowingall about him as I did; but somehow, every one, grandmamma and all ofyou, had been preaching up to me all my life that cousin Fred was to besuch a friend of mine. And then when he came to school, there he was--afellow with a pink and white face, like a girl's, and that did not evenknow how to shy a stone, and cried for his mamma! Well, I wish I couldbegin it all over again. "

"But do you mean that he was really a--a--what you call a Miss Molly?"

"Who said so? No, not a bit of it!" said Alex. "No one thought so inreality, though it was a good joke to put him in a rage, and pretendto think that he could not do anything. Why, it took a dozen timesmore spirit for him to be first in everything than for me, who had beenknocked about all my life. And he was up to anything, Bee, to anything. The matches at foot-ball will be good for nothing now; I am sure Ishan't care if we do win. "

"And the prize, " said Beatrice, "the scholarship!"

"I have no heart to try for it now! I would not, if Uncle Geoffreyhad not a right to expect it of me. Let me see: if Fred is well by thesummer, why then--hurrah! Really, Queenie, he might get it all up in notime, clever fellow as he is, and be first after all. Don't you thinkso?"

Queen Bee shook her head. "They say he must not read or study for a verylong time, " said she. 

"Yes, but six months--a whole year is an immense time, " said Alex. "Oyes, he must, Bee! Reading does not cost him half the trouble it doesother people; and his verses, they never fail--never except when he iscareless; and the sure way to prevent that is to run him up for time. That is right. Why there!" exclaimed Alex joyfully, "I do believethis is the very best thing for his success!" Beatrice could not helplaughing, and Alex immediately sobered down as the remembrance crossedhim, that if Fred were living a week hence, they would have great reasonto be thankful. 

"Ah! they will all of them be sorry enough to hear of this, " proceededhe. "There was no one so much thought of by the fellows, or the masterseither. "

"The masters, perhaps, " said Beatrice; "but I thought you said there wasa party against him among the boys?"

"Oh, nonsense! It was only a set of stupid louts who, just because theyhad pudding-heads themselves, chose to say that I did better without allhis reading and Italian, and music, and stuff; and I was foolish enoughto let them go on, though I knew all the time it was nothing but chaff. I shall let them all know what fools they were for their pains, as soonas I go back. Why, Queenie, you, who only know Fred at home, you havenot the slightest notion what a fellow he is. I'll just tell you onestory of him. "

Alexander forthwith proceeded to tell not one story alone, but many, toillustrate the numerous excellences which he ascribed to Fred, and againand again blaming himself for the species of division which had existedbetween them, although the fact was that he had always been the moreconciliatory of the two. Little did he guess, good, simple-heartedfellow, that each word was quite as much, or more, to his credit, as toFrederick's; but Beatrice well appreciated them, and felt proud of him. 

These talks were her chief comfort, and always served to refresh her, if only by giving her the feeling that some one wanted her, and not thatthe only thing she could do for anybody was the sealing of the letterswhich her father, whose eyes were supposed to be acquiring the power ofthose of cats, contrived to write in the darkness of Fred's room. Shethought she could have borne everything excepting Henrietta's coldness, which still continued, not from intentional unkindness or unwillingnessto forgive, but simply because Henrietta was too much absorbed in herown troubles to realise to herself the feelings which she wounded. Heruncle Geoffrey had succeeded in awakening her consideration for hermother; but with her and Fred it began and ended, and when outside thesick room, she seemed not to have a thought beyond a speedy returnto it. She seldom or never left it, except at meal-times, or when hergrandfather insisted on her taking a walk with him, as he did almostdaily. Then he walked between her and Beatrice, trying in vain to arouseher to talk, and she, replying as shortly as possible when obliged tospeak, left her cousin to sustain the conversation. 

The two girls went to church with grandpapa on the feast of theEpiphany, and strange it was to them to see again the wreaths whichtheir own hands had woven, looking as bright and festal as ever, theglistening leaves unfaded, and the coral berries fresh and gay. A tearbegan to gather in Beatrice's eye, and Henrietta hung her head, as ifshe could not bear the sight of those branches, so lately gathered byher brother. As they were leaving the church, both looked towards thealtar at the wreath which Henrietta had once started to see, bearing adeeper and more awful meaning than she had designed. Their eyes met, andthey saw that they had the same thought in their minds. 

When they were taking off their bonnets in their own room, Queen Beestretched out a detaining hand, not in her usual commanding manner, butwith a gesture that was almost timid, saying, "Look, Henrietta, one moment, and tell me if you were not thinking ofthis. "

And hastily opening the Lyra Innocentium, she pointed out the verse--

"Such garland grave and fair, His church to-day adorns, And--mark itwell--e'en there He wears His Crown of Thorns. 

"Should aught profane draw near, Full many a guardian spear Is setaround, of power to go Deep in the reckless hand, and stay the graspingfoe. "

"They go very deep, " sighed Henrietta, raising her eyes, with a mournfulcomplaining glance. 

Beatrice would have said more, but when she recollected her own conducton Christmas Eve, it might well strike her that she was the "thingprofane" that had then dared to draw near; and it pained her that shehad even appeared for one moment to accuse her cousin. She was beginningto speak, but Henrietta cut her short by saying, "Yes, yes, but I can'tstay, " and was flying along the passage the next moment. 

Beatrice sighed heavily, and spent the next quarter of an hour inrecalling, with all the reality of self-reproach, the circumstances ofher recklessness, vanity and self-will on that day. She knelt and pouredout her confession, her prayer for forgiveness, and grace to avoid thevery germs of these sins for the future, before Him Who seeth in secret:and a calm energetic spirit of hope, in the midst of true repentance, began to dawn on her. 

It was good for her, but was it not selfish in Henrietta thus to leaveher alone to bear her burthen? Yes, selfish it was; for Henrietta hadheard the last report of Frederick since their return, and knew thather presence in his room was quite useless; and it was only for thegratification of her own feelings that she hurried thither without evenstopping to recollect that her cousin might also be unhappy, and becomforted by talking to her. 

Her thought was only the repining one: "the thorns go deep!" Poor child, had they yet gone deep enough? The patient may cry out, but the skilfulsurgeon will nevertheless probe on, till he has reached the hiddensource of the malady. 

CHAPTER XV. 

On a soft hazy day in the beginning of February, the Knight Suttoncarriage was on the road to Allonfield, and in it sat the Busy Bee andher father, both of them speaking far less than was their wont whenalone together. 

Mr. Geoffrey Langford took off his hat, so as to let the moist springbreeze play round his temples and in the thin locks where the silverythreads had lately grown more perceptible, and gazed upon the dewygrass, the tiny woodbine leaf, the silver "pussycats" on the withy, andthe tasselled catkin of the hazel, with the eyes of a man to whom suchsights were a refreshment--a sort of holiday--after the many springsspent in close courts of law and London smoke; and now after his longattendance in a warm dark sick-room. His daughter sat by him, thinkingdeeply, and her heart full of a longing earnestness which seemed as ifit would not let her speak. She was going to meet her mother, whom shehad not seen for so long a time; but it was only to be for one evening!Her father, finding that his presence was absolutely required in London, and no longer actually indispensable at Knight Sutton, had resolved onchanging places with his wife, and she was to go with him and take hermother's place in attending on Lady Susan St. Leger. They were now goingto fetch Mrs. Geoffrey Langford home from the Allonfield station, and they would have one evening at Knight Sutton with her, returningthemselves the next morning to Westminster. 

They arrived at Allonfield, executed various commissions with which Mrs. Langford had been delighted to entrust Geoffrey; they ordered some newbooks for Frederick, and called at Philip Carey's for some medicines;and then driving up to the station watched eagerly for the train. 

Soon it was there, and there at length she was; her own dear self, --thedark aquiline face, with its sweetest and brightest of all expressions;the small youthful figure, so active, yet so quiet and elegant; thedress so plain and simple, yet with that distinguished air. How happyBeatrice was that first moment of feeling herself at her side!

"My dear! my own dear child!" Then anxiously following her husband withher eye, as he went to look for her luggage, she said, "How thin helooks, Queenie!"

"O, he has been doing so much, " said Busy Bee. "It is only for thislast week he has gone to bed at all, and then only on the sofa in Fred'sroom. This is the first time he has been out, except last Sunday toChurch, and a turn or two round the garden with grandmamma. "

He came back before Queen Bee had done speaking. "Come, Beatrice, " saidhe to his wife, "I am in great haste to have you at home; that freshface of yours will do us all so much good. "

"One thing is certain, " said she; "I shall send home orders that youshall be allowed no strong coffee at night, and that Busy Bee shallhide half the mountain of letters in the study. But tell me honestly, Geoffrey, are you really well?"

"Perfectly, except for a growing disposition to yawn, " said her husbandlaughing. 

"Well, what are the last accounts of the patient?"

"He is doing very well: the last thing I did before coming away, was tolay him down on the sofa, with Retzsch's outlines to look at: so you mayguess that he is coming on quickly. I suppose you have brought down thebooks and prints?"

"Such a pile, that I almost expected my goods would be over weight. "

"It is very fortunate that he has a taste for this kind of thing: onlytake care, they must not be at Henrietta's discretion, or his own, or hewill be overwhelmed with them, --a very little oversets him, and might dogreat mischief. "

"You don't think the danger of inflammation over yet, then?"

"O, no! his pulse is so very easily raised, that we are obliged to keephim very quiet, and nearly to starve him, poor fellow; and his appetiteis returning so fast, that it makes it very difficult to manage him. "

"I should be afraid that now would be the time to see the effects ofpoor Mary's over gentleness. "

"Yes; but what greatly increases the difficulty is that Fred has somestrange prejudice against Philip Carey. "

Busy Bee, who had heard nothing of this, felt her cheeks flush, whileher father proceeded. 

"I do not understand it at all: Philip's manners in a sick room areparticularly good--much better than I should have expected, and he hasbeen very attentive and gentle-handed; but, from the first, Fred hasshown a dislike to him, questioned all his measures, and made the mostof it whenever he was obliged to give him any pain. The last time theLondon doctor was here, I am sure he hurt Fred a good deal more thanPhilip has ever done, yet the boy bore it manfully, though he shrinksand exclaims the moment Philip touches him. Then he is always talking ofwishing for old Clarke at Rocksand, and I give Mary infinite credit fornever having proposed to send for him. I used to think she had greatfaith in the old man, but I believe it was only her mother. "

"Of course it was. It is only when Mary has to act alone that you reallyare obliged to perceive all her excellent sense and firmness; and I amvery glad that you should be convinced now and then, that in nothingbut her fears, poor thing, has she anything of the spoiling mamma abouther. "

"As if I did not know that, " said he, smiling. 

"And so she would not yield to this fancy? Very wise indeed. But Ishould like to know the reason of this dislike on Fred's part. Have youever asked him?"

"No; he is not in a fit state for argument; and, besides, I think theprejudice would only be strengthened. We have praised Philip again andagain, before him, and said all we could think of to give him confidencein him, but nothing will do; in fact, I suspect Mr. Fred was sharpenough to discover that we were talking for a purpose. It has been thegreat trouble this whole time, though neither Mary nor I have mentionedit, for fear of annoying my mother. "

"Papa, " said Busy Bee, "I am afraid I know the reason but too well. Itwas my foolish way of talking about the Careys; I used to tease poorFred about Roger's having taken him for Philip, and say all sorts ofthings that I did not really mean. "

"Hem!" said her father. "Well, I should think it might be so; it alwaysstruck me that the prejudice must be grounded upon some absurd notion, the memory of which had passed away, while the impression remained. "

"And do you think I could do anything towards removing it? You know I amto go and wish Fred good-bye this afternoon. "

"Why, yes; you might as well try to say something cheerful, which mightdo away with the impression. Not that I think it will be of any use;only do not let him think it has been under discussion. "

Beatrice assented, and was silent again while they went on talking. 

"Aunt Mary has held out wonderfully?" said her mother. 

"Too wonderfully, " said Mr. Geoffrey Langford, "in a way which I fearwill cost her dearly. I have been positively longing to see her give wayas she ought to have done under the fatigue; and now I am afraid ofthe old complaint: she puts her hand to her side now and then, and I ampersuaded that she had some of those spasms a night or two ago. "

"Ah!" said his wife, with great concern, "that is just what I have beendreading the whole time. When she consulted Dr. ----, how strongly heforbade her to use any kind of exertion. Why would you not let me come?I assure you it was all I could do to keep myself from setting off. "

"It was very well behaved in you, indeed, Beatrice, " said he, smiling;"a sacrifice which very few husbands would have had resolution either tomake themselves, or to ask of their wives. I thanked you greatly when Idid not see you. "

"But why would you not have me? Do you not repent it now?"

"Not in the least. Fred would let no one come near him but his motherand me; you could not have saved either of us an hour's nursing then, whereas now you can keep Fred in order, and take care of Mary, if shewill suffer it, and that she will do better from you than from any oneelse. "

They were now reaching the entrance of Sutton Leigh Lane, and Queen Beewas called upon for the full history of the accident, which, often asit had been told by letter, must again be narrated in all its branches. Even her father had never had time to hear it completely; and there wasso much to ask and to answer on the merely external circumstances, thatthey had not begun to enter upon feelings and thoughts when they arrivedat the gate of the paddock, which was held open by Dick and Willy, excessively delighted to see Aunt Geoffrey. 

In a few moments more she was affectionately welcomed by old Mrs. Langford, whose sentiments with regard to the two Beatrices were ofa curiously varying and always opposite description. When herdaughter-in-law was at a distance, she secretly regarded with a kind ofrespectful aversion, both her talents, her learning, and the fashionablelife to which she had been accustomed; but in her presence the winning, lively simplicity of her manners completely dispelled all theseprejudices in an instant, and she loved her most cordially for her ownsake, as well as because she was Geoffrey's wife. On the contrary, theyounger Beatrice, while absent, was the dear little granddaughter, --theQueen of Bees, the cleverest of creatures; and while present, it hasalready been shown how constantly the two tempers fretted each other, orhad once done so, though now, so careful had Busy Bee lately been, therehad been only one collision between them for the last ten days, and thatwas caused by her strenuous attempts to convince grandmamma that Fredwas not yet fit for boiled chicken and calves' foot jelly. 

Mrs. Langford's greetings were not half over when Henrietta and hermamma hastened down stairs to embrace dear Aunt Geoffrey. 

"My dear Mary, I am so glad to be come to you at last!"

"Thank you, O! thank you, Beatrice. How Fred will enjoy having you now!"

"Is he tired?" asked Uncle Geoffrey. 

"No, not at all; he seems to be very comfortable. He has been talking ofQueen Bee's promised visit. Do you like to go up now, my dear?"

Queen Bee consented eagerly, though with some trepidation, for she hadnot seen her cousin since his accident, and besides, she did not knowhow to begin about Philip Carey. She ran to take off her bonnet, while Henrietta went to announce her coming. She knocked at the door, Henrietta opened it, and coming in, she saw Fred lying on the sofa bythe fire, in his dressing-gown, stretched out in that languid listlessmanner that betokens great feebleness. There were the purple marks ofleeches on his temples; his hair had been cropped close to his head; hisface was long and thin, without a shade of colour, but his eyes lookedlarge and bright; and he smiled and held out his hand: "Ah, Queenie, howd'ye do?"

"How d'ye do, Fred? I am glad you are better. "

"You see I have the asses' ears after all, " said he, pointing to hisown, which were very prominent in his shorn and shaven condition. 

Beatrice could not very easily call up a smile, but she made an effort, and succeeded, while she said, "I should have complimented you on theincreased wisdom of your looks. I did not know the shape of your headwas so like papa's. "

"Is Aunt Geoffrey come?" asked Fred. 

"Yes, " said his sister: "but mamma thinks you had better not see hertill to-morrow. "

"I wish Uncle Geoffrey was not going, " said Fred. "Nobody else has theleast notion of making one tolerably comfortable. "

"O, your mamma, Fred!" said Queen Bee. 

"O yes, mamma, of course! But then she is getting fagged. "

"Mamma says she is quite unhappy to have kept him so long from his workin London, " said Henrietta; "but I do not know what we should have donewithout him. "

"I do not know what we shall do now, " said Fred, in a languid anddoleful tone. 

The Queen Bee, thinking this a capital opportunity, spoke with almostalarmed eagerness, "O yes, Fred, you will get on famously; you willenjoy having my mamma so much, and you are so much better already, andPhilip Carey manages you so well--"

"Manages!" said Fred; "ay, and I'll tell you how, Queenie; just as theman managed his mare when he fed her on a straw a day. I believe hethinks I am a ghool, and can live on a grain of rice. I only wish heknew himself what starvation is. Look here! you can almost see the firethrough my hand, and if I do but lift up my head, the whole room is in amerry-go-round. And that is nothing but weakness; there is nothingelse on earth the matter with me, except that I am starved down to thestrength of a midge!"

"Well, but of course he knows, " said Busy Bee; "Papa says he has had anexcellent education, and he must know. "

"To be sure he does, perfectly well: he is a sharp fellow, and knows howto keep a patient when he has got one. "

"How can you talk such nonsense, Fred? One comfort is, that it is a signyou are getting well, or you would not have spirits to do it. "

"I am talking no nonsense, " said Fred, sharply; "I am as serious aspossible. "

"But you can't really think that if Philip was capable of acting in suchan atrocious way, that papa would not find it out, and the other doctortoo?"

"What! when that man gets I don't know how many guineas from mamma everytime he comes, do you think that it is for his interest that I shouldget well?"

"My dear Fred, " interposed his sister, "you are exciting yourself, andthat is so very bad for you. "

"I do assure you, Henrietta, you would find it very little exciting tobe shut up in this room with half a teaspoonful of wishy-washy puddingtwice a day, and all just to fill Philip Carey's pockets! Now, there wasold Clarke at Rocksand, he had some feeling for one, poor old fellow;but this man, not the slightest compunction has he; and I am ready tokick him out of the room when I hear that silky voice of his tryingto be gen-tee-eel, and condoling; and those boots--O! Busy Bee! thoseboots! whenever he makes a step I always hear them say, 'O what a prettyfellow I am!'"

"You seem to be very merry here, my dears, " said Aunt Mary, coming in;"but I am afraid you will tire yourself, Freddy; I heard your voice evenbefore I opened the door. "

Fred was silent, a little ashamed, for he had sense enough notabsolutely to believe all that he had been saying, and his mother, sitting down, began to talk to the visitor, "Well, my little Queen, wehave seen very little of you of late, but we shall be very sorry to loseyou. I suppose your mamma will have all your letters, and Henrietta mustnot expect any, but we shall want very much to know how you get on withAunt Susan and her little dog. "

"O very well, I dare say, " said Beatrice, rather absently, for she waslooking at her aunt's delicate fragile form, and thinking of what herfather had been saying. 

"And Queenie, " continued her aunt, earnestly, "you must take greatcare of your papa--make him rest, and listen to your music, and readstory-books instead of going back to his work all the evening. "

"To be sure I shall, Aunt Mary, as much as I possibly can. "

"But Bee, " said Fred, "you don't mean that you are going to be shut upwith that horrid Lady Susan all this time? Why don't you stay here, andlet her take care of herself?"

"Mamma would not like that; and besides, to do her justice, she isreally ill, Fred, " said Beatrice. 

"It is too bad, now I am just getting better--if they would let me, Imean, " said Fred: "just when I could enjoy having you, and now there yougo off to that old woman. It is a downright shame. "

"So it is, Fred, " said Queen Bee gaily, but not coquettishly, as onceshe would have answered him, "a great shame in you not to have learnedto feel for other people, now you know what it is to be ill yourself. "

"That is right, Bee, " said Aunt Mary, smiling; "tell him he ought tobe ashamed of having monopolized you all so long, and spoilt all thecomfort of your household. I am sure I am, " added she, her eyes fillingwith tears, as she affectionately patted Beatrice's hand. 

Queen Bee's heart was very full, but she knew that to give way tothe expression of her feelings would be hurtful to Fred, and she onlypressed her aunt's long thin fingers very earnestly, and turned her faceto the fire, while she struggled down the rising emotion. There wasa little silence, and when they began to talk again, it was of theengravings at which Fred had just been looking. The visit lasted tillthe dressing bell rang, when Beatrice was obliged to go, and she shookhands with Fred, saying cheerfully, "Well, good-bye, I hope you will bebetter friends with the doctors next time I see you. "

"Never will I like one inch of a doctor, never!" repeated Fred, as sheleft the room, and ran to snatch what moments she could with her mammain the space allowed for dressing. 

Grandmamma was happy that evening, for, except poor Frederick's ownplace, there were no melancholy gaps at the dinner-table. He had Bennetto sit with him, and besides, there was within call the confidential oldman-servant, who had lived so many years at Rocksand, and in whom bothFred and his mother placed considerable dependence. 

Everything looked like recovery; Mrs. Frederick Langford came down andtalked and smiled like her own sweet self; Mrs. Geoffrey Langford wasready to hear all the news, old Mr. Langford was quite in spirits again, Henrietta was bright and lively. The thought of long days in London withLady Susan, and of long evenings with no mamma, and with papa eitherwriting or at his chambers, began from force of contrast to seem doublylike banishment to poor little Queen Bee, but whatever faults she had, she was no repiner. "I deserve it, " said she to herself, "and surelyI ought to bear my share of the trouble my wilfulness has occasioned. Besides, with even one little bit of papa's company I am only too welloff. "

So she smiled, and answered grandpapa in her favourite style, so that noone would have guessed from her demeanour that a task had been imposedupon her which she so much disliked, and in truth her thoughts weremuch more on others than on herself. She saw all hopeful and happy aboutFred, and as to her aunt, when she saw her as usual with all her playfulgentleness, she could not think that there was anything seriouslyamiss with her, or if there was, mamma would find out and set it all torights. Then how soothing and comforting, now that the first acute painof remorse was over, was that affectionate kindness, which, in everylittle gesture and word, Aunt Mary had redoubled to her ever since theaccident. 

Fred was all this time lying on his sofa, very glad to rest after somuch talking: weak, dizzy, and languid, and throwing all the blame ofhis uncomfortable sensations on Philip Carey and the starvation system, but still, perhaps, not without thoughts of a less discontented nature, for when Mr. Geoffrey Langford came to help him to bed, he said, ashe watched the various arrangements his uncle was for the last timesedulously making for his comfort, "Uncle Geoffrey, I ought to thank youvery much; I am afraid I have been a great plague to you. "

Perhaps Fred did not say this in all sincerity, for any one but UncleGeoffrey would have completely disowned the plaguing, and he fullyexpected him to do so; but his uncle had a stern regard for truth, coupled with a courtesy which left it no more harshness than wassalutary. 

"Anything for your good, my dear sir, " said he, with a smile. "You arewelcome to plague me as much as you like, only remember that your mammais not quite so tough. "

"Well, I do try to be considerate about her, " said Fred. "I mean to makeher rest as much as possible; Henrietta and I have been settling how tosave her. "

"You could save her more than all, Fred, if you would spare herdiscussions. "

Fred held his tongue, for though his memory was rather cloudy about theearly part of his illness, he did remember having seen her look greatlyharassed one day lately when he had been arguing against Philip Carey. 

Uncle Geoffrey proceeded to gather up some of the outlines whichHenrietta had left on the sofa. "I like those very much, " said Fred, "especially the Fight with the Dragon. "

"You know Schiller's poem on it?" said Uncle Geoffrey. 

"Yes, Henrietta has it in German. "

"Well, it is what I should especially recommend to your consideration. "

"I am afraid it will be long enough before I am able to go out on adragon-killing expedition, " said Fred, with a weary helpless sigh. 

"Fight the dragon at home, then, Freddy. Now is the time for--

 'The duty hardest to fulfil, To learn to yield our own self-will. '"

"There is very little hasty pudding in the case, " said Fred, ratherdisconsolately, and at the same time rather drolly, and with a sort ofresolution of this kind, "I will try then, I will not bother mamma, letthat Carey serve me as he may. I will not make a fuss, if I can help it, unless he is very unreasonable indeed, and when I get well I will submitto be coddled in an exemplary manner; I only wonder when I shall feel upto anything again! O! what a nuisance it is to have this swimming headand aching knees, all by the fault of that Carey!"

Uncle Geoffrey said no more, for he thought a hint often was more usefulthan a lecture, even if Fred had been in a state for the latter, andbesides he was in greater request than ever on this last evening, somuch so that it seemed as if no one was going to spare him even to havehalf an hour's talk with his wife. He did find the time for this atlast, however, and his first question was, "What do you think of thelittle Bee?"

"I think with great hope, much more satisfactorily than I have been ableto do for some time past, " was the answer. 

"Poor child, she has felt it very deeply, " said he, "I have been grievedto have so little time to bestow on her. "

"I am disposed to think, " said Mrs. Geoffrey Langford, thoughtfully, "that it was the best thing for her to be thrown on herself. Too muchtalk has always been the mischief with her, as with many another onlychild, and it struck me to-day as a very good sign that she said solittle. There was something very touching in the complete absence ofmoralizing to-day. "

"None of her sensible sayings, " said her father, with a gratified thougha grave smile. "It was perfectly open confession, and yet with no selfin it. Ever since the accident there has been a staidness and sedatenessabout her manner which seemed like great improvement, as far as I haveseen. And when it was proposed for her to go to Lady Susan, I was muchpleased with her, she was so simple: 'Very well, ' she said, 'I hope Ishall be able to make her comfortable:' no begging off, no heroism. Andreally, Beatrice, don't you think we could make some other arrangement?It is too great a penance for her, poor child. Lady Susan will do verywell, and I can have an eye to her; I am much inclined to leave the poorlittle Queen here with you. "

"No, no, Geoffrey, " said his wife, "that would never do: I do not meanon my aunt's account, but on the Busy Bee's; I am sure, wish it as wemay, " and the tears were in her eyes, "this is no time for even thesemblance of neglecting a duty for her sake. "

"Not so much hers as yours, " said Mr. Geoffrey Langford, "you have moreon your hands than I like to leave you alone to encounter, and she is avaluable little assistant. Besides you have been without her so long, itis your turn to keep her now. "

"No, no, no, " she repeated, though not without an effort, "it is best asit is settled for all, and decidedly so for me, for with her to writeto me about you every day, and to look after you, I shall be a hundredtimes more at ease than if I thought you were working yourself to deathwith no one to remonstrate. "

So it remained as before decided, and the pain that the decision costboth mother and daughter was only to be inferred by the way in whichthey kept close together, as if determined not to lose unnecessarily onefragment of each other's company; but they had very few moments alonetogether, and those were chiefly employed in practical matters, inminute directions as to the little things that conduced to keep LadySusan in good humour, and above all, the arrangements for papa'scomfort. There was thus not much time for Beatrice to spend withHenrietta, nor indeed would much have resulted if there had been more. As she grew more at ease about her brother, Henrietta had graduallyresumed her usual manner, and was now as affectionate to Beatrice asever, but she was quite unconscious of her previous unkindness, andtherefore made no attempt to atone for it. Queen Bee had ceased to thinkof it, and if a reserve had grown up between the two girls, they neitherof them perceived it. 

Mr. Geoffrey Langford and his daughter set out on their return to Londonso early the next morning that hardly any of the family were up; buttheir hurried breakfast in the grey of morning was enlivened by Alex, who came in just in time to exchange some last words with Uncle Geoffreyabout his school work, and to wish Queen Bee good-bye, with hopes of amerrier meeting next summer. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Mrs. Geoffrey Langford had from the first felt considerable anxietyfor her sister-in-law, who, though cheerful as ever, began at length toallow that she felt worn out, and consented to spare herself more thanshe had hitherto done. The mischief was, however, not to be averted, andafter a few days of increasing languor, she was attacked by a severefit of the spasms, to which she had for several years been subject atintervals, and was obliged to confine herself entirely to her own room, relying with complete confidence on her sister for the attendance on herson. 

It was to her, however, that Mrs. Geoffrey Langford wished most todevote herself; viewing her case with more uneasiness than that ofFrederick, who was decidedly on the fair road to convalescence; and sheonly gave him as much time as was necessary to satisfy his mother, andto superintend the regulation of his room. He had all the society hewanted in his sister, who was always with him, and in grandpapa andgrandmamma, whose short and frequent visits he began greatly toenjoy. He had also been more amenable to authority of late, partly inconsequence of his uncle's warning, partly because it was not quite soeasy to torment an aunt as a mother, and partly too because, exceptingalways the starving system, he had nothing in particular of which tocomplain. His mother's illness might also have its effect in subduinghim; but it did not dwell much on his spirits, or Henrietta's, as theywere too much accustomed to her ill health to be easily alarmed on heraccount. 

It was the last day of the holidays, and Alexander was to come late inthe afternoon--Fred's best time in the day--to take his leave. All themorning Fred was rather out of spirits, and talked to Henrietta a gooddeal about his school life. It might have been a melancholy day if hehad been going back to school, but it was more sad to be obliged to stayaway from the world where he had hitherto been measuring his powers, andfinding his most exciting interests. It was very mortifying to bethus laid helplessly aside; a mere nobody, instead of an important andleading member of a community; at such an age too that it was probablethat he would never return there again. 

He began to describe to Henrietta all the scenes where he would bemissing, but not missed; the old cathedral town, with its nest of trees, and the chalky hills; the quiet river creeping through the meadows:the "beech-crowned steep, " girdled in with the "hollow trench that theDanish pirate made;" the old collegiate courts, the painted windows ofthe chapel, the surpliced scholars, --even the very shops in the streetshad their part in his description: and then falling into silence hesighed at the thought that there he would be known no more, --all wouldgo on as usual, and after a few passing inquiries and expressions ofcompassion, he would be forgotten; his rivals would pass him in the raceof distinction; his school-boy career be at an end. 

His reflections were interrupted by Mrs. Langford's entrance with AuntGeoffrey, bringing a message of invitation from grandpapa to Henrietta, to walk with him to Sutton Leigh. She went; and Aunt Geoffrey, afterputting a book within Fred's reach, and seeing that he and grandmammawere quite willing to be companionable, again returned to his mother. 

Mrs. Langford thought him low and depressed, and began talking about hishealth, and the present mode of treatment, --a subject on which they wereperfectly agreed: one being as much inclined to bestow a good diet asthe other could be to receive it. If his head was still often painfullydizzy and confused; if his eyes dazzled when he attempted to read fora long time together; if he could not stand or walk across the roomwithout excessive giddiness--what was that but the effect of want ofnourishment? "If there was a craving, that was a sure sign that thething was wholesome. " So she said, and her grandson assented with hiswhole heart. 

In a few minutes she left the room, and presently returned with a mosttempting-looking glass of clear amber-coloured jelly. 

"O, grandmamma!" said Fred, doubtfully, though his eyes positivelylighted up at the sight. 

"Yes, my dear, I had it made for your mamma, and she says it is verygood. It is as clear as possible, and quite innocent; I am sure it mustdo you good. "

"Thank you! O, thank you! It does look very nice, " said Fred, gazing onit with wistful eyes, "but really I do not think I ought. "

"If it was to do you any harm, I am sure I should not think of such athing, " said Mrs. Langford. "But I have lived a good many more years inthe world than these young people, and I never saw any good come of allthis keeping low. There was old Mr. Hilton, now, that attended all theneighbourhood round when I was a girl; he kept you low enough while thefever was on you, but as soon as it was gone, why then reinvigorate thesystem, --that was what he used to say. "

"Just like old Clarke, of Rocksand!" sighed Fred. "I know my systemwould like nothing better than to be re-invigorated with that splendidstuff; but you would know it would put them all in a dreadful state ifthey knew it. "

"Never mind, " said grandmamma; "'tis all my doing, you know. Come, tooblige me, taste it, my dear. "

"One spoonful, " said Fred--"to oblige grandmamma, " added he to himself:and he let grandmamma lift him on the cushions as far as he couldbear to have his head raised. He took the spoonful, then started alittle, --"There is wine in it!" said he. 

"A very little--just enough to give it a flavour; it cannot make anydifference. Do you like it, my dear?" as the spoon scooped out anothertransparent rock. "Ay, that is right! I had the receipt from my old AuntKitty, and nobody ever could make it like Judith. "

"I am in for it now, " thought Fred. "Well, 'tis excellent, " said he;"capital stuff! I feel it all down to my fingers' ends, " added he with asmile, as he returned the glass, after fishing in vain for the particlesremaining in the small end. 

"That is right; I am so glad to see you enjoy it!" said grandmamma, hurrying off with the empty glass with speed at which Fred smiled, as itimplied some fears of meeting Aunt Geoffrey. He knew the nature ofhis own case sufficiently to be aware that he had acted veryimprudently, --that is to say, his better sense was aware--but his spiritof self-will made him consider all these precautions as nonsense, andwas greatly confirmed by his feeling himself much more fresh and lively. Grandmamma returned to announce Alexander and Willy, who soon followedher, and after shaking hands, stood silent, much shocked at thealteration in Fred's appearance. 

This impression, however, soon passed off, as Fred began to talk overschool affairs in a very animated manner; sending messages to hisfriends, discussing the interests of the coming half-year, the games, the studies, the employments; Alex lamenting Fred's absence, engagingto write, undertaking numerous commissions, and even prognosticating hisspeedy recovery, and attainment of that cynosure, --the prize. Never hadthe two cousins met so cordially, or so enjoyed their meeting. There wasno competition; each could afford to do the other justice, and bothfelt great satisfaction in doing so; and so high and even so loudbecame their glee, that Alex could scarcely believe that Fred was notin perfect health. At last Aunt Geoffrey came to put an end to it;and finding Fred so much excited, she made Alex bring his blunt honestfarewells and good wishes to a speedy conclusion, desired Fred to liequiet and rest, and sat down herself to see that he did so. 

Fred could not easily be brought to repose; he went on talking fast andeagerly in praise of Alex, and in spite of her complete assent, he wenton more and more vehemently, just as if he was defending Alex from someone who wanted to detract from his merits. She tried reading to him, buthe grew too eager about the book; and at last she rather advanced thetime for dressing for dinner, both for herself and Henrietta, andsent Bennet to sit with him, hoping thus perforce to reduce him to aquiescent state. He was by this means a little calmed for the rest ofthe evening; but so wakeful and restless a night ensued, that he beganto be alarmed, and fully came to the conclusion that Philip Carey wasin the right after all. Towards morning, however, a short sleepvisited him, and he awoke at length quite sufficiently refreshed to beself-willed as ever; and, contrary to advice, insisted on leaving hisbed at his usual hour. 

Philip Carey came at about twelve o'clock, and was disappointed as wellas surprised to find him so much more languid and uncomfortable, ashe could not help allowing that he felt. His pulse, too, wasunsatisfactory; but Philip thought the excitement of the interviewwith Alex well accounted for the sleepless night, as well as for theexhaustion of the present day: and Fred persuaded himself to believe sotoo. 

Henrietta did not like to leave him to-day, but she was engaged to takea ride with grandpapa, who felt as if the little Mary of years long goneby was restored to him, when he had acquired a riding companion inhis granddaughter. Mrs. Langford undertook to sit with Fred, and Mrs. Geoffrey Langford, who had been at first afraid that she would betoo bustling a nurse for him just now, seeing that he was evidentlyimpatient to be left alone with her, returned to Mrs. FrederickLangford, resolving, however, not to be long absent. 

In that interval Mrs. Langford brought in the inviting glass, and Fred, in spite of his good sense, could not resist it. Perhaps the recentirritation of Philip's last visit made him more willing to act inopposition to his orders. At any rate, he thought of little save ofswallowing it before Aunt Geoffrey should catch him in the fact, inwhich he succeeded; so that grandmamma had time to get the tell-taleglass safely into the store-closet just as Mrs. Frederick Langford'sdoor was opened at the other end of the passage. 

Fred's sofa cushions were all too soft or too hard that afternoon, --toohigh or too low; there was a great mountain in the middle of the sofa, too, so that he could not lie on it comfortably. The room was chillythough the fire was hot, and how grandmamma did poke it! Fred thoughtshe did nothing else the whole afternoon; and there was a certainconcluding shovel that she gave to the cinders, that very nearly put himin a passion. Nothing would make him comfortable till Henrietta camein, and it seemed very long before he heard the paddock gate, and thehorses' feet upon the gravel. Then he grew very much provoked becausehis sister went first to her mamma's room; and it was grandpapa who cameto him full of a story of Henrietta's good management of her horse whenthey suddenly met the hounds in a narrow lane. In she came, at last, inher habit, her hair hanging loosely round her face, her cheeks andeyes lighted up by the exercise, and some early primroses in her hand, begging his pardon for having kept him waiting, but saying she thoughthe did not want her directly, as he had grandpapa. 

Nevertheless he scolded her, ordered her specimens of the promise ofspring out of the room on an accusation of their possessing a strongscent, made her make a complete revolution on his sofa, and theninsisted on her going on with Nicolo de Lapi, which she was translatingto him from the Italian. Warm as the room felt to her in her habit, shesat down directly, without going to take it off; but he was not tobe thus satisfied. He found fault with her for hesitating in hertranslation, and desired her to read the Italian instead; then she readfirst so fast that he could not follow, and then so slowly that it wasquite unbearable, and she must go on translating. With the greatestpatience and sweetest temper she obeyed; only when next he interruptedher to find fault, she stopped and said gently, "Dear Fred, I am afraidyou are not feeling so well. "

"Nonsense! What should make you think so? You think I am cross, Isuppose. Well, never mind, I will go on for myself, " said he, snatchingthe book. 

Henrietta turned away to hide her tears, for she was too wise tovindicate herself. 

"Are you crying? I am sure I said nothing to cry about; I wish you wouldnot be so silly. "

"If you would only let me go on, dear Fred, " said she, thinking thatoccupying him would be better than arguing. "It is so dark where youare, and I will try to get on better. There is an easier piece coming. "

Fred agreed, and she went on without interruption for some little time, till at last he grew so excited by the story as to be very angry whenthe failing light obliged her to pause. She tried to extract some lightfrom the fire, but this was a worse offence than any; it was too badof her, when she knew how he hated both the sound of poking, and thathorrible red flickering light which always hurt his eyes. This dislike, which had been one of the symptoms of the early part of his illness, soalarmed her that she had thoughts of going to call Aunt Geoffrey, andwas heartily glad to see her enter the room. 

"Well, how are you going on?" she said, cheerfully. "Why, my dear, howhot you must be in that habit!"

"Rather, " said poor Henrietta, whose face, between the heat and herperplexity, was almost crimson. "We have been reading 'Nicolo, ' and Iam very much afraid it is as bad as Alex's visit, and has excited Fredagain. "

"I am quite sick of hearing that word excitement!" said Fred, impatiently. 

"Almost as tired as of having your pulse felt, " said Aunt Geoffrey. "Butyet I must ask you to submit to that disagreeable necessity. "

Fred moved pettishly, but as he could not refuse, he only told Henriettathat he could not bear any one to look at him while his pulse was felt. 

"Will you fetch me a candle, my dear?" said Aunt Geoffrey, amazed aswell as terrified by the fearful rapidity of the throbs, and trying toacquire sufficient composure to count them calmly. The light came, andstill she held his wrist, beginning her reckoning again and again, inthe hope that it was only some momentary agitation that had so quickenedthem. 

"What! 'tis faster?" asked Fred, speaking in a hasty alarmed tone, whenshe released him at last. 

"You are flushed, Fred, " she answered very quietly, though she feltfull of consternation. "Yes, faster than it ought to be; I think you hadbetter not sit up any longer this evening, or you will sleep no betterthan last night. "

"Very well, " said Fred. 

"Then I will ring for Stephens, " said she. 

The first thing she did on leaving his room was to go to her own, andthere write a note to young Mr. Carey, giving an account of the symptomsthat had caused her so much alarm. As she wrote them down withoutexaggeration, and trying to give each its just weight, going back torecollect the first unfavourable sign, she suddenly remembered that asshe left her sister's room, she had seen Mrs. Langford, whom she hadleft with Fred, at the door of the store-closet. Could she have beengiving him any of her favourite nourishing things? Mrs. GeoffreyLangford could hardly believe that either party could have acted sofoolishly, yet when she remembered a few words that had passed about thejelly that morning at breakfast, she could no longer doubt, and bitterlyreproached herself for not having kept up a stricter surveillance. Ofher suspicion she however said nothing, but sealing her note, she wentdown to the drawing-room, told Mr. Langford that she did not think Fredquite so well that evening, and asked him if he did not think it mightbe better to let Philip Carey know. He agreed instantly, and rang thebell to order a servant to ride to Allonfield; but Mrs. Langford, whocould not bear any one but Geoffrey to act without consulting her, pitied man and horse for being out so late, and opined that Beatriceforgot that she was not in London, where the medical man could be calledin so easily. 

It was fortunate that it was the elder Beatrice instead of the younger, for provoked as she already had been before with the old lady, it wasnot easy even for her to make a cheerful answer. "Well, it is very kindin you to attend to my London fancies, " said she; "I think if we can doanything to spare him such a night as the last, it should be tried. "

"Certainly, certainly, " said Mr. Langford. "It is very disappointingwhen he was going on so well. He must surely have been doing somethingimprudent. "

It was very tempting to interrogate Mrs. Langford, but herdaughter-in-law had long since come to a resolution never to convey toher anything like reproach, let her do what she might in her mistakenkindness of heart, or her respectable prejudices; so, withoutentering on what many in her place might have made a scene of politerecrimination, she left the room, and on her way up, heard Frederick'sdoor gently opened. Stephens came quickly and softly to the end ofthe passage to meet her. "He is asking for you, ma'am, " said he; "I amafraid he is not so well; I did not like to ring, for fear of alarmingmy mistress, but--"

Mrs. Geoffrey Langford entered the room, and found that the bustle andexertion of being carried to his bed had brought on excessive confusionand violent pain. He put his hand to his forehead, opened his eyes, andlooked wildly about. "Oh, Aunt Geoffrey, " he exclaimed, "what shall Ido? It is as bad--worse than ever!"

"You have been doing something imprudent, I fear, " said Aunt Geoffrey, determined to come to the truth at once. 

"Only that glass of jelly--if I had guessed!"

"Only one?"

"One to-day, one yesterday. It was grandmamma's doing. Don't let herknow that I told. I wish mamma was here!"

Aunt Geoffrey tried to relieve the pain by cold applications, but couldnot succeed, and Fred grew more and more alarmed. 

"The inflammation is coming back!" he cried, in an agony of apprehensionthat almost overcame the sense of pain. "I shall be in danger--I shalllose my senses--I shall die! Mamma! O! where is mamma?"

"Lie still, my dear Fred, " said Mrs. Geoffrey Langford, laying her handon him so as to restrain his struggling movements to turn round or tosit up. "Resistance and agitation will hurt you more than anything else. You must control yourself, and trust to me, and you may be sure I willdo the best in my power for you. The rest is in the hands of God. "

"Then you think me very ill?" said Fred, trying to speak morecomposedly. 

"I think you will certainly make yourself very ill, unless you willkeep yourself quiet, both mind and body. There--" she settled him ascomfortably as she could: "Now I am going away for a few minutes. Makea resolution not to stir till I come back. Stephens is here, and I shallsoon come back. "

This was very unlike the way in which his mother used to beseech him asa favour to spare her, and yet his aunt's tone was so affectionate, aswell as so authoritative, that he could not feel it unkind. She leftthe room, and as soon as she found herself alone in the passage, leantagainst the wall and trembled, for she felt herself for a moment quiteoverwhelmed, and longed earnestly for her husband to think for her, or even for one short interval in which to reflect. For this, however, there was no time, and with one earnest mental supplication, summoningup her energies, she walked on to the person whom she at that momentmost dreaded to see, her sister-in-law. She found her sitting in herarm-chair, Henrietta with her, both looking very anxious, and she wasglad to find her prepared. 

"What is it?" was the first eager question. 

"He has been attempting rather too much of late, " was the answer, "andhas knocked himself up. I came to tell you, because I think I had betterstay with him, and perhaps you might miss me. "

"O no, no, pray go to him. Nothing satisfies me so well about him asthat you should be there, except that I cannot bear to give you so muchtrouble. Don't stay here answering questions. He will be so restless ifhe misses you--"

"Don't you sit imagining, Mary; let Henrietta read to you. "

This proposal made Henrietta look so piteous and wistful that her mothersaid, "No, no, let her go to Freddy, poor child. I dare say he wantsher. "

"By no means, " said Aunt Geoffrey, opening the door; "he will be quieterwithout her. "

Henrietta was annoyed, and walked about the room, instead of sittingdown to read. She was too fond of her own will to like being thuschecked, and she thought she had quite as good a right to be with herbrother as her aunt could have. Every temper has one side or other onwhich it is susceptible; and this was hers. She thought it affection forher brother, whereas it was impatience of being ordered. 

Her mother forced herself to speak cheerfully. "Aunt Geoffrey is acapital nurse, " said she; "there is something so decided about her thatit always does one good. It saves all the trouble and perplexity ofthinking for oneself. "

"I had rather judge for myself, " said Henrietta. 

"That is all very well to talk of, " said her mother, smiling sadly, "butit is a very different thing when you are obliged to do it. "

"Well, what do you like to hear?" said Henrietta, who found herself toocross for conversation. "The old man's home?"

"Do not read unless you like it, my dear; I think you must be tired. You would want 'lungs of brass' to go on all day to both of us. You hadbetter not. I should like to talk. "

Henrietta being in a wilful fit, chose nevertheless to read, because itgave her the satisfaction of feeling that Aunt Geoffrey was inflictinga hardship upon her; although her mother would have preferredconversation. So she took up a book, and began, without any perceptionof the sense of what she was reading, but her thoughts dwelling partlyon her brother, and partly on her aunt's provoking ways. She read onthrough a whole chapter, then closing the book hastily, exclaimed, "Imust go and see what Aunt Geoffrey is doing with Fred. "

"She is not such a very dangerous person, " said Mrs. Frederick Langford, almost laughing at the form of the expression. 

"Well, but you surely want to know how he is, mamma?"

"To be sure I do, but I am so afraid of his being disturbed. If he wasjust going to sleep now. "

"Yes, but you know how softly I can open the door. "

"Your aunt would let us know if there was anything to hear. Pray takecare, my dear. "

"I must go, I can't bear it any longer; I will only just listen, " saidHenrietta; "I will not be a moment. "

"Let me have the book, my dear, " said her mother, who knew but too wellthe length of Henrietta's moments, and who had just, by means of a greateffort, succeeded in making herself take interest in the book. 

Henrietta gave it to her, and darted off. The door of Fred's room wasajar, and she entered. Aunt Geoffrey, Bennet, and Judith were standinground the bed, her aunt sponging away the blood that was flowing fromFrederick's temples. His eyes were closed, and he now and then gave longgasping sighs of oppression and faintness. "Leeches!" thought Henrietta, as she started with consternation and displeasure. "This is prettystrong! Without telling me or mamma! Well, this is what I call doingsomething with him indeed. "

She advanced to the table, but no one saw her for more than a minute, till at last Aunt Geoffrey stepped quickly up to it in search of somebottle. 

"Let me do something, " said Henrietta, catching up the bottle that shethought likely to be the right one. 

Her aunt looked vexed, and answered in a low quick tone, "You had betterstay with your mamma. "

"But why are you doing this? Is he worse? Is Mr. Philip Carey here? Hashe ordered it?"

"He is not come yet. My dear, I cannot talk to you: I should be muchobliged if you would go back to your mamma. "

Aunt Geoffrey went back to Fred, but a few minutes after she lookedup and still saw Henrietta standing by the table. She came up to her, "Henrietta, you are of no use here; every additional person oppresseshim; your mamma must be kept tranquil. Why will you stay?"

"I was just going, " said Henrietta, taking this hurrying as anadditional offence, and walking off in a dignified way. 

It was hard to say what had affronted her most, the proceeding itself, the neglect, or the commands which Aunt Geoffrey had presumed tolay upon her, and away she went to her mamma, a great deal too muchdispleased, and too distrustful to pay the smallest attention to anyprecautions which her aunt might have tried to impress upon her. 

"Well!" asked her mother anxiously. 

"She would not let me stay, " answered Henrietta. "She has been puttingon leeches. "

"Leeches!" exclaimed her mother. "He must be much worse. Poor fellow! IsMr. Carey here?"

"No, that is the odd thing. "

"Has he not been sent for?"

"I am sure I don't know. Aunt Geoffrey seems to like to do things in herown way. "

"It must be very bad indeed if she cannot venture to wait for him!" saidMrs. Frederick Langford, much alarmed. 

"And never to tell you!" said Henrietta. 

"O, that was her consideration. She knew how foolishly anxious I shouldbe. I have no doubt that she is doing right. How did he seem to be?"

"Very faint, I thought, " said Henrietta, "there seemed to be a greatdeal of bleeding, but Aunt Geoffrey would not let me come near. "

"She knows exactly what to do, " said Mrs. Frederick Langford. "How wellit was that she should be here. "

Henrietta began to be so fretted at her mother's complete confidence inher aunt, that without thinking of the consequences she tried to argueit away. "Aunt Geoffrey is so quick--she does things without half theconsideration other people do. And she likes to settle everything. "

But happily the confiding friendship of a lifetime was too strong to beeven harassed for a moment by the petulant suspicions of an angry girl. 

"My dear, if you were not vexed and anxious, I should tell you that youwere speaking very improperly of your aunt. I am perfectly satisfiedthat she is doing what is right by dear Fred, as well as by me; and if Iam satisfied, no one else has any right to object. "

There was nothing left for Henrietta in her present state of spirits butto have a hearty cry, one of the best possible ways she could find ofdistressing her mother, who all the time was suffering infinitely morethan she could imagine from her fears, her efforts to silence them, andthe restraint which she was exercising upon herself, longing as she didto fly to her son's room, to see with her own eyes, and only detained bythe fear that her sudden appearance there might agitate him. Thetears, whatever might be their effect upon her, did Henrietta good, andrestored her to something more like her proper senses. She grew ratheralarmed, too, when she saw her mamma's pale looks, as she leant backalmost exhausted with anxiety and repressed agitation. 

Mrs. Langford came up to bring them some tea, and she, having littleidea of the real state of things, took so encouraging a view as to cheerthem both, and her visit did much service at least to Henrietta. Thenthey heard sounds announcing Philip Carey's arrival, and presently afterin came Bennet with a message from Mr. Frederick that he was better, andthat his mother was not to be frightened. At last came Aunt Geoffrey, saying, "Well, Mary, he is better. I have been very sorry to leave youso long, and I believe Henrietta, " looking at her with a smile, "thinksI have used you very ill. "

"I believe she did, " said her mother, "but I was sure you would doright; you say he is better? Let me hear. "

"Much better; only--. But Mary, you look quite worn out, you should goto bed. "

"Let me hear about him first. "

Aunt Geoffrey accordingly told the whole history, as, perhaps, every onewould not have told it, for one portion of it in some degree justifiedHenrietta's opinion that she had been doing a great deal on her ownresponsibility. It had been very difficult to stop the bleeding, andFred, already very weak, had been so faint and exhausted that she hadfelt considerable alarm, and was much rejoiced by the arrival of PhilipCarey, who had not been at home when the messenger reached his house. Now, however, all was well; he had fully approved all that she had done, and, although she did not repeat this to Mrs. Frederick Langford, had pronounced that her promptitude and energy had probably saved thepatient's life. Fred, greatly relieved, had fallen asleep, and she hadnow come, with almost an equal sense of relief, to tell his mother allthat had passed, and ask her pardon. 

"Nay, Beatrice, what do you mean by that? Is it not what you andGeoffrey have always done to treat him as your own son instead of mine?and is it not almost my chief happiness to feel assured that you alwayswill do so? You know that is the reason I never thank you. "

Henrietta hung her head, and felt that she had been very unjust andungrateful, more especially when her aunt said, "You thought it veryhard to have your mouth stopped, Henrietta, my dear, and I was sorry forit, but I had not much time to be polite. "

"I am sorry I was in the way, " said she, an acknowledgment such as shehad seldom made. 

Fred awoke the next morning much better, though greatly fallen back inhis progress towards recovery, but his mother had during the night theworst fit of spasms from which she had ever suffered. 

But Henrietta thought it all so well accounted for by all the agitationsof the evening before, that there was no reason for further anxiety. 

It was a comfort to Aunt Geoffrey, who took it rather more seriously, that she received that morning a letter from her husband, concluding, "As to the Queen Bee, I have no doubt that you can judge of her framebetter from the tone of her letters than from anything I have to tell. I think her essentially improved and improving, and you will think Ido not speak without warrant, when I tell you that Lady Susan expressedherself quite warmly respecting her this morning. She continues toimagine that she has the charge of Queen Bee, and not Queen Bee of her, and I think it much that she has been allowed to continue in the belief. Lady Amelia comes to-morrow, and then I hope the poor little woman'spenance may be over, for though she makes no complaints, there is nodoubt that it is a heavy one, as her thorough enjoyment of a book, andan hour's freedom from that little gossiping flow of plaintive talksufficiently testify. "

CHAPTER XVII. 

Frederick had lost much ground, and yet on the whole his relapse was ofno slight service to him. In the earlier part of his illness he had beenso stupefied by the accident, that he had neither been conscious of hisdanger, nor was able to preserve any distinct remembrance of what hehad suffered. But this return to his former state, with all his sensesperfect, made him realise the rest, and begin to perceive how near tothe grave he had been brought. A deep shuddering sense of awe came overhim, as he thought what it would have been to die then, without a minuteof clear recollection, and his last act one of wilful disobedience. Andhow had he requited the mercy which had spared him? He had shown as muchof that same spirit of self-will as his feebleness would permit; he hadbeen exacting, discontented, rebellious, and well indeed had he deservedto be cut off in the midst of the sin in which he had persisted. 

He was too weak to talk, but his mind was wide awake; and many anearnest thanksgiving, and resolution strengthened by prayer, were madein silence during the two or three days that passed, partly in suchthoughts as these, and for many hours more in sleep; while sometimeshis aunt, sometimes his sister, and sometimes even Bennet, sat by hisbed-side unchidden for not being "mamma. "

"Above all, " said he to himself, "he would for the future devotehimself, to make up to her for all that he had caused her to suffer forhis sake. Even if he were never to mount a horse or fire a gun for therest of his life, what would such a sacrifice be for such a mother?" Itwas very disappointing that, at present, all he could even attempt to dofor her was to send her messages--and affection does not travel well bymessage, --and at the same time to show submission to her knownwishes. And after all, it would have been difficult not to have shownsubmission, for Aunt Geoffrey, as he already felt, was not a person tobe argued with, but to be obeyed; and for very shame he could not haveindulged himself in his Philippics after the proof he had experienced oftheir futility. 

So, partly on principle, and partly from necessity, he ceased togrumble, and from that time forth it was wonderful how much lessunpleasant even external things appeared, and how much his healthbenefited by the tranquillity of spirits thus produced. He was willingto be pleased with all that was done with that intent; and as he grewbetter, it certainly was a strange variety with which he had to beamused throughout the day. Very good naturedly he received all suchcivilities, especially when Willy brought him a bottle of the first livesticklebacks of the season, accompanied by a message from Arthur that hehoped soon to send him a basin of tame tadpoles, --and when John rushedup with a basket of blind young black satin puppies, their motherfollowing in a state of agitation only equalled by that of Mrs. Langfordand Judith. 

Willy, a nice intelligent little fellow, grew very fond of him, andspent much time with him, taking delight in his books and prints, beyondwhat could have been thought possible in one of the Sutton Leigh party. 

When he was strong enough to guide a pencil or pen, a very enjoyablecorrespondence commenced between him and his mother, who was stillunable to leave her apartment; and hardly any one ever passed betweenthe two rooms without being the bearer of some playful greeting, ordroll descriptions of the present scene and occupation, chronicles ofthe fashionable arrivals of the white clouds before the window, ofa bunch of violets, or a new book; the fashionable departure of theheadache, the fire, or a robin; notices that tom-tits were whettingtheir saws on the next tree, or of the domestic proceedings of the rookswho were building their house opposite to Mrs. Frederick Langford'swindow, and whom she watched so much that she was said to be in a fairway of solving the problem of how many sticks go to a crow's nest;criticisms of the books read by each party, and very often a referenceto that celebrated billet, unfortunately delivered over night to PrinceTalleyrand, informing him that his devoted friend had scarcely closedher eyes all night, and then only to dream of him!

Henrietta grew very happy. She had her brother again, as wholly hersas in their younger days, --depending upon her, participating in all herpleasures, or rather giving her favourite occupations double zest, by their being for him, for his amusement. She rode and walked in thebeautiful open spring country with grandpapa, to whom she was a mostvaluable companion; and on her return she had two to visit, both of whomlooked forward with keen interest and delight to hearing her historiesof down and wood, of field and valley, of farm-house, cottage, orschool; had a laugh for the least amusing circumstance, admirationfor the spring flower or leaf, and power to follow her descriptions ofbudding woods, soft rising hills, and gorgeous sunsets. How her mammaenjoyed comparing notes with her about those same woods and dells, andwould describe the adventures of her own youth! And now it might benoticed that she did not avoid speaking of those in which Henrietta'sfather had been engaged; nay, she dwelt on them by preference, andwithout the suppressed sigh which had formerly followed anything likea reference to him. Sometimes she would smile to identify the bold opendown with the same where she had run races with him, and even laugh tothink of the droll adventures. Sometimes the shady woodland walk wouldmake her describe their nutting parties, or it would bring her thoughtsto some fit of childish mischief and concealment, and to the confessionto which his bolder and more upright counsel had at length led her. Or she would tell of the long walks they had taken together when oldergrown, when each had become prime counsellor and confidante of theother; and the interests and troubles of home and of school were pouredout to willing ears, and sympathy and advice exchanged. How Fred andMary had been companions from the very first, how their love had grownup unconsciously, in the sports in the sunny fields, shady coombs, andgreen woods of their home: how it had strengthened and ripened withadvancing years, and how bright and unclouded their sunshine had beento dwell on: this was her delight, while the sadness which once spoke ofcrushed hopes, and lost happiness, had gone from her smile. It was as ifshe still felt herself walking in the light of his love, and at the sametime, as if she wished to show him to his daughter as he was, and totell Henrietta of those words and those ways of his which were mostcharacteristic, and which used to be laid up so fast in her heart, that she could never have borne to speak of them. The bitterness of hisdeath, as it regarded herself, seemed to have passed, the brightness ofhis memory alone remaining. Henrietta loved to listen, but scarcely somuch as her mother loved to tell; and instead of agitating her, theserecollections always seemed to soothe and make her happy. 

Henrietta knew that Aunt Geoffrey and grandpapa were both of themanxious about her mother's health, but for her own part she did notthink her worse than she had often been before; and whilst she continuedin nearly the same state, rose every day, sat in her arm-chair, and wasso cheerful, and even lively, there could not be very much amiss, eventhough there was no visible progress in amendment. Serious complaintthere was, as she knew of old, to cause the spasms; but it had existedso long, that after the first shock of being told of it two years ago, she had almost ceased to think about it. She satisfied herself to herown mind that it could not, should not be progressing, and that this wasonly a very slow recovery from the last attack. 

Time went on, and a shade began to come over Fred. He was bright andmerry when anything occurred to amuse him, did not like reading less, ortake less interest in his occupations; but in the intervals of quiethe grew grave and almost melancholy, and his inquiries after his mothergrew minute and anxious. 

"Henrietta, " said he, one day when they were alone together, "I wastrying to reckon how long it is since I have seen mamma. "

"O, I think she will come and see you in a few days more, " saidHenrietta. 

"You have told me that so many times, " said Fred. "I think I must try toget to her. That passage, if it was not so very long! If Uncle Geoffreycomes on Saturday, I am sure he can manage to take me there. "

"It will be a festival day indeed when you meet!" said Henrietta. 

"Yes, " said he thoughtfully. Then returning to the former subject, "Buthow long is it, Henrietta? This is the twenty-seventh of March, is itnot?"

"Yes; a whole quarter of a year you have been laid up here. "

"It was somewhere about the beginning of February that Uncle Geoffreywent. "

"The fourth, " said Henrietta. 

"And it was three days after he went away that mamma had those firstspasms. Henrietta, she has been six weeks ill!"

"Well, " said Henrietta, "you know she was five weeks without stirringout of the room, that last time she was ill at Rocksand, and she isgetting better. "

"I don't think it is getting better, " said Fred. "You always say so, butI don't think you have anything to show for it. "

"You might say the same for yourself, " said Henrietta, laughing. "Youhave been getting better these three months, poor man, and you need notboast. "

"Well, at least I can show something for it, " said Fred; "they allowme a lark's diet instead of a wren's, I can hold up my head like otherpeople now, and I actually made my own legs and the table's carry meto the window yesterday, which is what I call getting on. But I do notthink it is so with mamma. A fortnight ago she used to be up by ten oreleven o'clock; now I don't believe she ever is till one. "

"It has been close, damp weather, " said Henrietta, surprised at theaccurate remembrance, which she could not confute. "She misses the coldbracing wind. "

"I don't like it, " said Fred, growing silent, and after a short intervalbeginning again more earnestly, "Henrietta, neither you nor any one elseare keeping anything from me, I trust?"

"O, no, no!" said Henrietta, eagerly. 

"You are quite sure?"

"Quite, " responded she. "You know all I know, every bit; and I know allAunt Geoffrey does, I am sure I do, for she always tells me what Mr. Philip Carey says. I have heard Uncle and Aunt Geoffrey both say strongthings about keeping people in the dark, and I am convinced they wouldnot do so. "

"I don't think they would, " said Fred; "but I am not satisfied. Recollect and tell me clearly, are they convinced that this is onlyrecovering slowly--I do not mean that; I know too well that this is nota thing to be got rid of; but do they think that she is going to be aswell as usual?"

"I do, " said Henrietta, "and you know I am more used to her illness thanany of them. Bennet and I were agreeing to-day that, considering howbad the spasms were, and how much fatigue she had been going through, wecould not expect her to get on faster. "

"You do? But that is not Aunt Geoffrey. "

"O! Aunt Geoffrey is anxious, and expected her to get on faster, justlike Busy Bee expecting everything to be so quick; but I am sureyou could not get any more information from her than from me, andimpressions--I am sure you may trust mine, used as I am to watch mamma. "

Fred asked no more; but it was observable that from that day he neverlost one of his mother's little notes, placing them as soon as read inhis pocket-book, and treasuring them carefully. He also begged Henriettato lend him a miniature of her mother, taken at the time of hermarriage. It represented her in all her youthful loveliness, with thelong ringlets and plaits of dark brown hair hanging on her neck, thearch suppressed smile on her lips, and the laughing light in her deepblue eye. He looked at it for a little while, and then asked Henriettaif she thought that she could find, among the things sent from Rocksandwhich had not yet been unpacked, another portrait, taken in the earliermonths of her widowhood, when she had in some partial degree recoveredfrom her illness, but her life seemed still to hang on a thread. Mrs. Vivian, at whose especial desire it had been taken, had been very fondof it, and had always kept it in her room, and Fred was very anxious tosee it again. After a long search, with Bennet's help, Henrietta foundit, and brought it to him. Thin, wan, and in the deep black garments, there was much more general resemblance to her present appearance inthis than in the portrait of the beautiful smiling bride. "And yet, "said Fred, as he compared them, "do not you think, Henrietta, that thereis more of mamma in the first?"

"I see what you mean, " said Henrietta. "You know it is by a much betterartist. "

"Yes, " said he, "the other is like enough in feature, --more so certainlyto anything we have ever seen: but what a difference! And yet what isit? Look! Her eyes generally have something melancholy in their look, and yet I am sure those bright happy ones put me much more in mind ofhers than these, looking so weighed down with sorrow. And the sweetsmile, that is quite her own!"

"If you could but see her now, Fred, " said Henrietta, "I think you wouldindeed say so. She has now and then a beautiful little pink flush, thatlights up her eyes as well as her cheeks; and when she smiles and talksabout those old times with papa, she does really look just like theminiature, all but her thinness. "

"I do not half like to hear of all that talking about my father, "murmured Fred to himself as he leant back. Henrietta at first opened hereyes; then a sudden perception of his meaning flashed over her, and shebegan to speak of something else as fast as she could. 

Uncle Geoffrey came on Saturday afternoon, and after paying aminute's visit to Fred, had a conference of more than an hour with hissister-in-law. Fred did not seem pleased with his sister's informationthat "it was on business, " and only was in a slight degree reassured bybeing put in mind that there was always something to settle at Lady-day. Henrietta thought her uncle looked grave; and as she was especiallyanxious to prevent either herself or Fred from being frightened, shewould not leave him alone in Fred's room, knowing full well thatno questions would be asked except in private--none at least of thedescription which she dreaded. 

All Fred attempted was the making his long-mediated request that hemight visit his mother, and Uncle Geoffrey undertook to see whether itwas possible. Numerous messages passed, and at length it was arrangedthat on Sunday, just before afternoon service, when the house was quiet, his uncle should help him to her room, where his aunt would read to themboth. 

Frederick made quite a preparation for what was to him a greatundertaking. He sat counting the hours all the morning; and when atlength the time arrived, his heart beat so violently, that it seemed totake away all the little strength he had. His uncle came in, but waiteda few moments; then said, with some hesitation, "Fred, you must beprepared to see her a good deal altered. "

"Yes, " said Fred, impatiently. 

"And take the greatest care not to agitate her. Can you be trusted? I donot ask it for your own sake. "

"Yes, " said Fred, resolutely. 

"Then come. "

And in process of time Fred was at her door. There he quitted hisuncle's arm, and came forward alone to the large easy chair where shesat by the fire-side. She started joyfully forward, and soon he was onone knee before her, her arms round his neck, her tears dropping onhis face, and a quiet sense of excessive happiness felt by both. Thenrising, he sank back into another great chair, which his sister hadarranged for him close to hers, and too much out of breath to speak, hepassively let Henrietta make him comfortable there; while holding hismother's hand, he kept his eyes fixed upon her, and she, anxious onlyfor him, patted his cushions, offered her own, and pushed her footstooltowards him. 

A few words passed between Mr. And Mrs. Geoffrey Langford outside thedoor. 

"I still think it a great risk, " said she. 

"But I should not feel justified in preventing it, " was his answer, "only do not leave them long alone. " Then opening the door he called, "Henrietta, there is the last bell. " And Henrietta, much against herwill, was obliged to go with him to Church. 

"Good-bye, my dear, " said her mother. "Think of us prisoners in theright way at Church, and not in the wrong one. "

Strangely came the sound of the Church bell to their ears through thewindow, half open to admit the breezy breath of spring; the cawing ofthe rooks and the song of the blackbird came with it; the sky was clearand blue, the buds were bursting into life. 

"How very lovely it is!" added she. 

Fred made a brief reply, but without turning his head to the window. Hiseyes, his thoughts, his whole soul, were full of the contemplation ofwhat was to him a thousand times more lovely, --that frail wasted form, namely, whose hand he held. The delicate pink colour which Henrietta haddescribed was on her cheek, contrasting with the ivory whiteness of therest of her face; the blue eyes shone with a sweet subdued brightnessunder their long black lashes; the lips smiled, though languidly yet assunnily as ever; the dark hair lay in wavy lines along the sides of herface; and but for the helplessness with which the figure rested in thechair, there was less outward token of suffering than he had often seenabout her, --more appearance almost of youth and beauty. But it was notan earthly beauty; there was something about it which filled him witha kind of indescribable undefined awe, together with dread of a sorrowtowards which he shrank from looking. She thought him fatigued with theexertion he had made, and allowed him to rest, while she contemplatedwith pleasure even the slight advances which he had already made inshaking off the traces of illness. 

The silence was not broken till Aunt Geoffrey came in, just as the laststroke of the Church-bell died away, bringing in her hand a fragrantspray of the budding sweet-briar. 

"The bees are coming out with you, Freddy, " said she. "I have just beenround the garden watching them revelling in the crocuses. "

"How delicious!" said Mrs. Frederick Langford, to whom she had offeredthe sweet-briar. "Give it to him, poor fellow; he is quite knocked upwith his journey. "

"O no, not in the least, mamma, thank you, " said Fred, sitting upvigorously; "you do not know how strong I am growing. " And then turningto the window, he made an effort, and began observing on her rook'snest, as she called it, and her lilac buds. Then came a few morecheerful questions and comments on the late notes, and then Mrs. Frederick Langford proposed that the reading of the service shouldbegin. 

Aunt Geoffrey, kneeling at the table, read the prayers, and Fred tookthe alternate verses of the Psalms. It was the last day of the month, and as he now and then raised his eyes to his mother's face, he sawher lips follow the glorious responses in those psalms of praise, and aglistening in her lifted eyes such as he could never forget. 

"He healeth those that are broken in heart, and giveth medicine to healtheir sickness. "

"He telleth the number of the stars, and calleth them all by theirnames. "

He read this verse as he had done many a time before, without thinkingof the exceeding beauty of the manner in which it is connected with theformer one; but in after years he never read it again without that wholeroom rising before his eyes, and above all his mother's face. It was asweet soft light, and not a gloom, that rested round that scene in hismemory; springtide sights and sounds; the beams of the declining sun, with its quiet spring radiance; the fresh mild air; even the brightfire, and the general look of calm cheerfulness which pervaded allaround, all conduced to that impression which never left him. 

The service ended, Aunt Geoffrey read the hymn for the day in the"Christian Year, " and then left them for a few minutes; but strange asit may seem, those likewise were spent in silence, and though therewas some conversation when she returned, Fred took little share in it. Silent as he was, he could hardly believe that he had been there morethan ten minutes, when sounds were heard of the rest of the familyreturning from Church, and Mrs. Geoffrey Langford went down to meetthem. 

In another instant Henrietta came up, very bright and joyous, with manykind messages from Aunt Roger. Next came Uncle Geoffrey, who, after afew cheerful observations on the beauty of the day, to which his sisterresponded with pleasure, said, "Now, Freddy, I must be hard-hearted; Iam coming back almost directly to carry you off. "

"So soon!" exclaimed Henrietta. "Am I to be cheated of all the pleasureof seeing you together?"

No one seemed to attend to her; but as soon as the door had closedbehind his uncle, Fred moved as if to speak, paused, hesitated, thenbent forward, and, shading his face with his hand, said in a low voice, "Mamma, say you forgive me. "

She held out her arm, and again he sank on his knee, resting his headagainst her. 

"My own dear boy, " said she, "I will not say I have nothing to forgive, for that I know is not what you want; but well do you know how freelyforgiven and forgotten is all that you may ever feel to have beenagainst my wish. God bless you, my own dear Frederick!" she added, pressing her hand upon his head. "His choicest blessings be with youforever. "

Uncle Geoffrey's knock was heard; Frederick hastily rose to his feet, was folded in one more long embrace, then, without another word, suffered his uncle to lead him out of the room, and support him back tohis own. He stretched himself on the sofa, turned his face inwards, and gave two or three long gasping sighs, as if completely overpowered, though his uncle could scarcely determine whether by grief or byphysical exhaustion. 

Henrietta looked frightened, but her uncle made her a sign to saynothing: and after watching him anxiously for some minutes, during whichhe remained perfectly still, her uncle left the room, and she sat downto watch for him, taking up a book, for she dreaded the reveries inwhich she had once been so prone to indulge. Fred remained for a longtime tranquil, if not asleep; and when at length he was disturbed, complained that his head ached, and seemed chiefly anxious to be left inquiet. It might be that, in addition to his great weariness, he felta charm upon him which he could not bear to break. At any rate, hescarcely looked up or spoke all the rest of the evening, excepting that, when he went to bed, he sent a message that he hoped Uncle Geoffreywould come to his room the next morning before setting off, as he wasobliged to do at a very early hour. 

He came, and found Fred awake, looking white and heavy-eyed, as if hehad slept little, and allowing that his head still ached. 

"Uncle Geoffrey, " said he, raising himself on his elbow, and looking athim earnestly, "would it be of no use to have further advice?"

His uncle understood him, and answered, "I hope that Dr. ---- will comethis evening or to-morrow morning. But, " added he, slowly and kindly, "you must not build your hopes upon that, Fred. It is more from thefeeling that nothing should be untried, than from the expectation thathe can be of use. "

"Then there is no hope?" said Fred, with a strange quietness. 

"Man can do nothing, " answered his uncle. "You know how the case stands;the complaint cannot be reached, and there is scarcely a probability ofits becoming inactive. It may be an affair of days or weeks, or she mayyet rally, and be spared to us for some time longer. "

"If I could but think so!" said Fred. "But I cannot. Her face will notlet me hope. "

"If ever a ray from heaven shone out upon a departing saint, " saidUncle Geoffrey, --but he could not finish the sentence, and turning away, walked to the window. 

"And you must go?" said Fred, when he came back to his side again. 

"I must, " said Uncle Geoffrey. "Nothing but the most absolute necessitycould make me leave you now. I scarcely could feel myself an honest manif I was not in my place to-morrow. I shall be here again on Thursday, at latest, and bring Beatrice. Your mother thinks she may be a comfortto Henrietta. "

"Henrietta knows all this?" asked Fred. 

"As far as she will bear to believe it, " said his uncle. "We cannotgrudge her her unconsciousness, but I am afraid it will be worse forher in the end. You must nerve yourself, Fred, to support her. Now, good-bye, and may God bless and strengthen you in your trial!"

Fred was left alone again to the agony of the bitterest thoughts he hadever known. All his designs of devoting himself to her at an end! Herwhom he loved with such an intensity of enthusiastic admiration andreverence, --the gentlest, the most affectionate, the most beautifulbeing he knew! Who would ever care for him as she did? To whom wouldit matter now whether he was in danger or in safety? whether hedistinguished himself or not? And how thoughtlessly had he trifled withher comfort, for the mere pleasure of a moment, and even fancied himselfjustified in doing so! Even her present illness, had it not probablybeen brought on by her anxiety and attendance on him? and it was his ownwilful disobedience to which all might be traced. It was no wonder that, passing from one such miserable thought to another, his bodily weaknesswas considerably increased, and he remained very languid and unwell;so much so that had Philip Carey ever presumed to question anythingMr. Geoffrey Langford thought fit to do, he would have pronouncedyesterday's visit a most imprudent measure. In the afternoon, as Fredwas lying on his sofa, he heard a foot on the stairs, and going alongthe passage. 

"Who is that?" said he; "the new doctor already? It is a strange step. "

"O! Fred, don't be the fairy Fine Ear, as you used to be when you wereat the worst, " said Henrietta. 

"But do you know who it is?" said Fred. 

"It is Mr. Franklin, " said Henrietta. "You know mamma has only been onceat Church since your accident, and then there was no Holy Communion. Soyou must not fancy she is worse, Fred. "

"I wish we were confirmed, " said Fred, sighing, and presently adding, "My Prayer-Book, if you please, Henrietta. "

"You will only make your head worse, with trying to read the smallprint, " said she; "I will read anything you want to you. "

He chose nevertheless to have it himself, and when he next spoke, it wasto say, "I wish, when Mr. Franklin leaves her, you would ask him to cometo me. "

Henrietta did not like the proposal at all, and said all she couldagainst it; but Fred persisted, and made her at last undertake to askAunt Geoffrey's consent. Even then she would have done her best to missthe opportunity; but Fred heard the first sounds, and she was obliged tofetch Mr. Franklin. The conference was not long, and she found noreason to regret that it had taken place; for Fred did not seem so muchoppressed and weighted down when she again returned to him. 

The physician who had been sent for arrived. He had seen Mrs. FrederickLangford some years before, and well understood her case, and hisopinion was now exactly what Fred had been prepared by his uncle toexpect. It was impossible to conjecture how long she might yet survive:another attack might come at any moment, and be the last. It might bedeferred for weeks or months, or even now it was possible that she mightrally, and return to her usual state of health. 

It was on this possibility, or as she chose to hear the word, probability, that Henrietta fixed her whole mind. The rest was to her asif unsaid; she would not hear nor believe it, and shunned anything thatbrought the least impression of the kind. The only occasion when shewould avow her fears even to herself, was when she knelt in prayer; andthen how wild and unsubmissive were her petitions! How embittered andwretched she would feel at her own powerlessness! Then the next minuteshe would drive off her fears as by force; call up a vision of abrightly smiling future; think, speak, and act as if hiding her eyeswould prevent the approach of the enemy she dreaded. 

Her grandmamma was as determined as herself to hope; and her grandpapa, though fully alive to the real state of the case, could not bear tosadden her before the time, and let her talk on and build schemes forthe future, till he himself almost caught a glance of her hopes, and hisdeep sigh was the only warning she received from him. Fred, too weak formuch argument, and not unwilling to rejoice now and then in an illusion, was easily silenced, and Aunt Geoffrey had no time for anyone but thepatient. Her whole thought, almost her whole being, was devoted to"Mary, " the friend, the sister of her childhood, whom she now attendedupon with something of the reverent devotedness with which an angelmight be watched and served, were it to make a brief sojourn upon earth;feeling it a privilege each day that she was still permitted to attendher, and watching for each passing word and expression as a treasure tobe dwelt on in many a subsequent year. 

It could not be thus with Henrietta, bent on seeing no illness, onmarking no traces of danger; shutting her eyes to all the tokens thather mother was not to be bound down to earth for ever. She found heralways cheerful, ready to take interest in all that pleased her, andstill with the playfulness which never failed to light up all thatapproached her. A flower, --what pleasure it gave her! and how sweet hersmile would be!

It was on the evening of the day after the physician's visit, thatHenrietta came in talking, with the purpose of, as she fancied, cheeringher mother's spirits, of some double lilac primroses which Mrs. Langfordhad promised her for the garden at the Pleasance. Her mamma smelt theflowers, admired them, and smiled as she said, "Your papa planted a rootof those in my little garden the first summer I was here. "

"Then I am sure you will like to have them at the Pleasance, mamma. "

"My dear child, "--she paused, while Henrietta started, and gazed uponher, frightened at the manner--"you must not build upon our favouriteold plan; you must prepare--"

"O but, mamma, you are better! You are so much better than two days ago;and these clear days do you so much good; and it is all so bright. "

"Thanks to Him Who has made it bright!" said her mother, taking herhand. "But I fear, my own dearest, that it will seem far otherwise toyou. I want you to make up your mind--"

Henrietta broke vehemently upon the feeble accents. "Mamma! mamma!you must not speak so! It is the worst thing people can do to thinkdespondingly of themselves. Aunt Geoffrey, do tell her so!"

"Despondingly! my child; you little know what the thought is to me!"

The words were almost whispered, and Henrietta scarcely marked them. 

"No, no, you must not! It is too cruel to me, --I can't bear it!" shecried; the tears in her eyes, and a violence of agitation about her, which her mother, feeble as she was, could not attempt to contendwith. She rested her head on her cushions, and silently and mournfullyfollowed with her eyes the hasty trembling movements of her daughter, who continued to arrange the things on the table, and make desperateattempts to regain her composure; but completely failing, caught up herbonnet, and hurried out of the room. 

"Poor dear child, " said Mrs. Frederick Langford, "I wish she was moreprepared. Beatrice, the comforting her is the dearest and saddest task Ileave you. Fred, poor fellow, is prepared, and will bear up like a man;but it will come fearfully upon her. And Henrietta and I have been morelike sisters than mother and daughter. If she would only bear to hearme--but no, if I were to be overcome while speaking to her, it mightgive her pain in the recollection. Beatrice, you must tell her all Iwould say. "

"If I could!"

"You must tell her, Beatrice, that I was as undisciplined as she is now. Tell her how I have come to rejoice in the great affliction of my life:how little I knew how to bear it when Frederick was taken from me andhis children, in the prime of his health and strength. You remember howcrushed to the ground I was, and how it was said that my life was savedchiefly by the calmness that came with the full belief that I was dying. And O! how my spirit rebelled when I found myself recovering! Do youremember the first day I went to Church to return thanks?"

"It was after we were gone home. "

"Ah! yes. I had put it off longer than I ought, because I felt soutterly unable to join in the service. The sickness of heart that camewith those verses of thanksgiving! All I could do was to pray to beforgiven for not being able to follow them. Now I can own with allmy heart the mercy that would not grant my blind wish for death. Mytreasure was indeed in heaven, but O! it was not the treasure that wasmeant. I was forgetting my mother, and so selfish and untamed wasI, that I was almost forgetting my poor babies! Yes, tell her this, Beatrice, and tell her that, if duties and happiness sprang up allaround me, forlorn and desolate as I thought myself, so much the morewill they for her; and 'at evening time there shall be light. ' Tell herthat I look to her for guiding and influencing Fred. She must neverlet a week pass without writing to him, and she must have the honouredoffice of waiting on the old age of her grandfather and grandmother. Ithink she will be a comfort to them, do not you? They are fond of her, and she seems to suit them. "

"Yes, I have little doubt that she will be everything to them. I haveespecially noted her ways with Mrs. Langford, they are so exactly what Ihave tried to teach Beatrice. "

"Dear little Busy Bee! I am glad she is coming; but in case I shouldnot see her, give her her godmother's love, and tell her that she andHenrietta must be what their mammas have been to each other; and that Itrust that after thirty-five years' friendship, they will still have asmuch confidence in one another as I have in you, my own dear Beatrice. I have written her name in one of these books, " she added after a shortinterval, touching some which were always close to her. "And, Beatrice, one thing more I had to say, " she proceeded, taking up a Bible, andfinding out a place in it. "Geoffrey has always been a happy prosperousman, as he well deserves; but if ever trouble should come to him in histurn, then show him this. " She pointed out the verse, "Be as a father tothe fatherless, and instead of a husband to their mother; so shalt thoube as the son of the Most High, and He shall love thee more than thymother doth. " "Show him that, and tell him it is his sister Mary's lastblessing. "

CHAPTER XVIII. 

On Thursday morning, Henrietta began to awake from her sound night'srest. Was it a dream that she saw a head between her and the window? Shethought it was, and turned to sleep again; but at her movement the headturned, the figure advanced, and Mrs. Geoffrey Langford stood over her. 

Henrietta opened her eyes, and gazed upon her without saying a word forsome moments; then, as her senses awakened, she half sprung up. "How ismamma? Does she want me? Why?" Her aunt made an effort to speak, but itseemed beyond her power. 

"O, aunt, aunt!" cried she, "what is the matter? What has happened?Speak to me!"

"Henrietta, " said her aunt, in a low, calm, but hoarse tone, "she badeyou bear up for your brother's sake. "

"But--but--" said Henrietta, breathlessly; "and she--"

"My dear child, she is at rest. "

Henrietta laid her head back, as if completely stunned, and unable torealise what she had heard. 

"Tell me, " she said, after a few moments. 

Her aunt knelt by her and steadily, without a tear, began to speak. "It was at half-past twelve; she had been asleep some little time veryquietly. I was just going to lie down on the sofa, when I thought herface looked different, and stood watching. She woke, said she feltoppressed, and asked me to raise her pillows. While she was leaningagainst my arm, there was a spasm, a shiver, and she was gone! Yes, wemust only think of her as in perfect peace!"

Henrietta lay motionless for some moments, then at last broke out with asort of anger, "O, why did you not call me?"

"There was not one instant, my dear, and I could not ring, for fear ofdisturbing Fred. I could not call any one till it was too late. "

"O, why was I not there? I would--I would--she must have heard me. I would not have let her go. O, mamma!" cried Henrietta, almostunconscious of what she said, and bursting into a transport ofungovernable grief; sobbing violently and uttering wild incoherentexclamations. Her aunt tried in vain to soothe her by kind words, butall she said seemed only to add impulse to the torrent; and at last shefound herself obliged to wait till the violence of the passion had insome degree exhausted itself; and young, strong, and undisciplined aspoor Henrietta was, this was not quickly. At last, however, the sobsgrew less loud, and the exclamations less vehement. Aunt Geoffreythought she could be heard, leant down over her, kissed her, and said, "Now we must pray that we may fulfil her last desire; bear it patiently, and try to help your brother. "

"Fred, O poor Fred!" and she seemed on the point of another burst oflamentation, but her aunt went on speaking--"I must go to him; hehas yet to hear it, and you had better come to him as soon as you aredressed. "

"O aunt; I could not bear to see him. It will kill him, I know it will!O no, no, I cannot, cannot see Fred! O, mamma, mamma!" A fresh fit ofweeping succeeded, and Mrs. Langford herself feeling most deeply, was ingreat doubt and perplexity; she did not like to leave Henrietta in thiscondition, and yet there was an absolute necessity that she should goto poor Fred, before any chance accident or mischance should reveal thetruth. 

"I must leave you, my dear, " said she, at last. "Think how your dearmother bowed her head to His will. Pray to your Father in Heaven, Whoalone can comfort you. I must go to your brother, and when I return, Ihope you will be more composed. "

The pain of witnessing the passionate sorrow of Henrietta was no goodpreparation for carrying the same tidings to one, whose bodily weaknessmade it to be feared that he might suffer even more; but Mrs. GeoffreyLangford feared to lose her composure by stopping to reflect, andhastened down from Henrietta's room with a hurried step. 

She knocked at Fred's door, and was answered by his voice. As sheentered he looked at her with anxious eyes, and before she could speak, said, "I know what you are come to tell me. "

"Yes, Fred, " said she; "but how?"

"I was sure of it, " said Fred. "I knew I should never see her again; andthere were sounds this morning. Did not I hear poor Henrietta crying?"

"She has been crying very much, " said his aunt. 

"Ah! she would never believe it, " said Fred. "But after last Sunday--O, no one could look at that face, and think she was to stay here anylonger!"

"We could not wish it for her sake, " said his aunt, for the first timefeeling almost overcome. 

"Let me hear how it was, " said Frederick, after a pause. 

His aunt repeated what she had before told Henrietta, and then he askedquickly, "What did you do? I did not hear you ring. "

"No, that was what I was afraid of. I was going to call some one, when Imet grandpapa, who was just going up. He came with me, and--and was verykind--then he sent me to lie down; but I could not sleep, and went towait for Henrietta's waking. "

Fred gave a long, deep, heavy sigh, and said, "Poor Henrietta! Is shevery much overcome?"

"So much, that I hardly know how to leave her. "

"Don't stay with me, then, Aunt Geoffrey. It is very kind in you, butI don't think anything is much good to me. " He hid his face as he spokethus, in a tone of the deepest dejection. 

"Nothing but prayer, my dear Fred, " said she, gently. "Then I will go toyour sister again. "

"Thank you. " And she had reached the door when he asked, "When doesUncle Geoffrey come?"

"By the four o'clock train, " she answered, and moved on. 

Frederick hid his head under the clothes, and gave way to a burst ofagony, which, silent as it was, was even more intense than his sister's. O! the blank that life seemed without her look, her voice, her tone! thefrightful certainty that he should never see her more! Then it would fora moment seem utterly incredible that she should thus have passed away;but then returned the conviction, and he felt as if he could not evenexist under it. But this excessive oppression and consciousness ofmisery seemed chiefly to come upon him when alone. In the presence ofanother person he could talk in the same quiet matter-of-fact way inwhich he had already done to his aunt; and the blow itself, sudden as itwas, did not affect his health as the first anticipation of it had done. With Henrietta things were quite otherwise. When alone she was quiet, ina sort of stupor, in which she scarcely even thought; but the entranceof any person into her room threw her into a fresh paroxysm of grief, ever increasing in vehemence; then she was quieted a little, and wasleft to herself, but she could not, or would not, turn where alonecomfort could be found, and repelled, almost as if it was an insult toher affection, any entreaty that she would even try to be comforted. Above all, in the perverse-ness of her undisciplined affliction, shepersisted in refusing to see her brother. "She should do him harm, " shesaid. "No, it was utterly impossible for her to control herself so asnot to do him harm. " And thereupon her sobs and tears redoubled. Shewould not touch a morsel of food; she would not consent to leave her bedwhen asked to do so, though ten minutes after, in the restlessnessof her misery, she was found walking up and down her room in herdressing-gown. 

Never had Mrs. Geoffrey Langford known a more trying day. Old Mr. Langford, who had loved "Mary" like his own child, did indeed bearup under the affliction with all his own noble spirit of Christiansubmission; but, excepting by his sympathy, he could be of littleassistance to her in the many painful offices which fell to her share. Mrs. Langford walked about the house, active as ever; now sitting downin her chair, and bursting into a flood of tears for "poor Mary, " or"dear Frederick, " all the sorrow for whose loss seemed renewed; thenrising vigorously, saying, "Well, it is His will; it is all for thebest!" and hastening away to see how Henrietta and Fred were, to makesome arrangement about mourning, or to get Geoffrey's room ready forhim. And in all these occupations she wanted Beatrice to consult, or tosympathise, or to promise that Geoffrey would like and approve what shedid. In the course of the morning Mr. And Mrs. Roger Langford came fromSutton Leigh, and the latter, by taking the charge of, talking to, andassisting Mrs. Langford, greatly relieved her sister-in-law. Still therewere the two young mourners. Henrietta was completely unmanageable, onlyresting now and then to break forth with more violence; and her sorrowfar too selfish and unsubmissive to be soothed either by the thought ofHim Who sent it, or of the peace and rest to which that beloved one wasgone; and as once the anxiety for her brother had swallowed up all carefor her mother, so now grief for her mother absorbed every considerationfor Frederick; so that it was useless to attempt to persuade her to makeany exertion for his sake. Nothing seemed in any degree to tranquillizeher except Aunt Geoffrey's reading to her; and then it was only thatshe was lulled by the sound of the voice, not that the sense reachedher mind. But then, how go on reading to her all day, when poor Fred wasleft in his lonely room, to bear his own share of sorrow in solitude?For though Mr. And Mrs. Langford, and Uncle and Aunt Roger, made himmany brief kind visits, they all of them had either too much on theirhands, or were unfitted by disposition to be the companions he wanted. It was only Aunt Geoffrey who could come and sit by him, and tell himall those precious sayings of his mother in her last days, which in hersubdued low voice renewed that idea of perfect peace and repose whichcame with the image of his mother, and seemed to still the otherwiseoverpowering thought that she was gone. But in the midst the door wouldopen, and grandmamma would come in, looking much distressed, with somesuch request as this--"Beatrice, if Fred can spare you, would you justgo up to poor Henrietta? I thought she was better, and that it was aswell to do it at once; so I went to ask her for one of her dresses, tosend for a pattern for her mourning, and that has set her off cryingto such a degree, that Elizabeth and I can do nothing with her. I wishGeoffrey was come!"

Nothing was expressed so often through the day as this wish, and no onewished more earnestly than his wife, though, perhaps, she was the onlyperson who did not say so a dozen times. There was something cheering inhearing that his brother had actually set off to meet him at Allonfield;and at length Fred's sharpened ears caught the sound of the carriagewheels, and he was come. It seemed as if he was considered by all astheir own exclusive property. His mother had one of her quick, suddenbursts of lamentation as soon as she saw him; his brother, as usual, wanted to talk to him; Fred was above all eager for him; and it was onlyhis father who seemed even to recollect that his wife might wanthim more than all. And so she did. Her feelings were very strong andimpetuous by nature, and the loss was one of the greatest she could havesustained. Nothing save her husband and her child was so near toher heart as her sister; and worn out as she was by long attendance, sleepless nights, and this trying day, when all seemed to rest upon her, she now completely gave way, and was no sooner alone with her husbandand daughter, than her long repressed feelings relieved themselves ina flood of tears, which, though silent, were completely beyond her owncontrol. Now that he was come, she could, and indeed must, give way; andthe more she attempted to tell him of the peacefulness of her own dearMary, the more her tears would stream forth. He saw how it was, andwould not let her even reproach herself for her weakness, or attempt anylonger to exert herself; but made her lie down on her bed, and told herthat he and Queen Bee could manage very well. 

Queen Bee stood there pale, still, and bewildered-looking. She hadscarcely spoken since she heard of her aunt's death; and new asaffliction was to her sunny life, scarce knew where she was, or whetherthis was her own dear Knight Sutton; and even her mother's grief seemedto her almost more like a dream. 

"Ah, yes, " said Mrs. Geoffrey Langford, as soon as her daughter had beennamed, "I ought to have sent you to Henrietta before. "

"Very well, " said Beatrice, though her heart sank within her as shethought of her last attempt at consoling Henrietta. 

"Go straight up to her, " continued her mother; "don't wait to let herthink whether she will see you or not. I only wish poor Fred could dothe same. "

"If I could but do her any good, " sighed Beatrice, as she opened thedoor and hastened upstairs. She knocked, and entered without waiting foran answer: Henrietta lifted up her head, came forward with a little cry, threw herself into her arms, and wept bitterly. Mournful as all aroundwas, there was a bright ray of comfort in Queen Bee's heart when shewas thus hailed as a friend and comforter. She only wished and longed toknow what might best serve to console her poor Henrietta; but all thatoccurred to her was to embrace and fondle her very affectionately, andcall her by the most caressing names. This was all that Henrietta wasas yet fit to bear; and after a time, growing quieter, she poured outto her cousin all her grief, without fear of blame for its violence. Beatrice was sometimes indeed startled by the want of all ideaof resignation, but she could not believe that any one could feelotherwise, --least of all Henrietta, who had lost her only parent, andthat parent Aunt Mary. Neither did she feel herself good enough to talkseriously to Henrietta; she considered herself as only sent to sit withher, so she did not make any attempt to preach the resignation which wasso much wanted; and Henrietta, who had all day been hearing of it, andrebelling against it, was almost grateful to her. So Henrietta talkedand talked, the same repeated lamentation, the same dreary views of thefuture coming over and over again; and Beatrice's only answer was toagree with all her heart to all that was said of her own dear Aunt Mary, and to assure Henrietta of the fervent love that was still left for herin so many hearts on earth. 

The hours passed on; Beatrice was called away and Henrietta was inclinedto be fretful at her leaving her; but she presently returned, and thesame discourse was renewed, until at last Beatrice began to read toher, and thus did much to soothe her spirits, persuaded her to make atolerable meal at tea-time, bathed her eyelids that were blistered withtears, put her to bed, and finally read her to sleep. Then, as she creptquietly down to inquire after her mamma, and wish the others in thedrawing-room good night, she reflected whether she had done what sheought for her cousin. 

"I have not put a single right or really consoling thought into herhead, " said she to herself; "for as to the reading, she did not attendto that. But after all I could not have done it. I must be better myselfbefore I try to improve other people; and it is not what I deserve to beallowed to be any comfort at all. "

Thanks partly to Beatrice's possessing no rightful authority overHenrietta, partly to the old habit of relying on her, she contrived tomake her get up and dress herself at the usual time next morning. Butnothing would prevail on her to go down stairs. She said she couldnot endure to pass "that door, " where ever before the fondest welcomeawaited her; and as to seeing her brother, that having been deferredyesterday, seemed to-day doubly dreadful. The worst of this piece ofperverseness--for it really deserved no better name--was that it beganto vex Fred. "But that I know how to depend upon you, Uncle Geoffrey, "said he, "I should really think she must be ill. I never knew anythingso strange. "

Uncle Geoffrey resolved to put an end to it, if possible; and soon afterleaving Fred's room he knocked at his niece's door. She was sitting bythe fire with a book in her hand, but not reading. 

"Good morning, my dear, " said he, taking her languid hand. "I bring youa message from Fred, that he hopes you are soon coming down to see him. "

She turned away her head. "Poor dear Fred!" said she; "but it is quiteimpossible. I cannot bear it as he does; I should only overset him anddo him harm. "

"And why cannot you bear it as he does?" said her uncle gravely. "Youdo not think his affection for her was less? and you have all theadvantages of health and strength. "

"Oh, no one can feel as I do!" cried Henrietta, with one of herpassionate outbreaks. "O how I loved her!"

"Fred did not love her less, " proceeded her uncle. "And why will youleave him in sorrow and in weakness to doubt the sister's love thatshould be his chief stay?"

"He does not doubt it, " sobbed Henrietta. "He knows me better. "

"Nay, Henrietta, what reason has he to trust to that affection whichis not strong enough to overcome the dread of a few moments' painfulemotion?"

"Oh, but it is not that only! I shall feel it all so much more outof this room, where she has never been; but to see the rest of thehouse--to go past her door! O, uncle, I have not the strength for it. "

"No, your affection for him is not strong enough. "

Henrietta's pale cheeks flushed, and her tears were angry. "You do notknow me, Uncle Geoffrey, " said she proudly, and then she almost chokedwith weeping at unkindness where she most expected kindness. 

"I know this much of you, Henrietta. You have been nursing up your griefand encouraging yourself in murmuring and repining, in a manner whichyou will one day see to have been sinful: you are obstinate in makingyourself useless. "

Henrietta, little used to blame, was roused to defend herself with thefirst weapon she could. "Aunt Geoffrey is just as much knocked up as Iam, " said she. 

If ever Uncle Geoffrey was made positively angry, he was so now, thoughif he had not thought it good that Henrietta should be roused, he wouldhave repressed even such demonstrations as he made. "Henrietta, this istoo bad! Has she been weakly yielding?--has she been shutting herself upin her room, and keeping aloof from those who most needed her, lest sheshould pain her own feelings? Have not you rather been perplexing anddistressing, and harassing her with your wilful selfishness, refusing todo the least thing to assist her in the care of your own brother, aftershe has been wearing herself out in watching over your mother? And now, when her strength and spirits are exhausted by the exertions shehas made for you and yours, and I have been obliged to insist on herresting, you fancy her example an excuse for you! Is this the way yourmother would have acted? I see arguing with you does you no good: I haveno more to say. "

He got up, opened the door, and went out: Henrietta, dismayed at theaccusation but too well founded on her words, had but one thought, thatshe should not deem her regardless of his kindness. "Uncle Geoffrey!"she cried, "O, uncle--" but he was gone; and forgetting everything else, she flew after him down the stairs, and before she recollected anythingelse, she found herself standing in the hall, saying, "O uncle, do notthink I meant that!"

At that moment her grandpapa came out of the drawing-room. "Henrietta!"said he, "I am glad to see you downstairs. "

Henrietta hastily returned his kiss, and looked somewhat confused; thenlaying her hand entreatingly on her uncle's arm, said, "Only say you arenot angry with me. "

"No, no, Henrietta, not if you will act like a rational person, " saidhe with something of a smile, which she could not help returning in hersurprise at finding herself downstairs after all. 

"And you do not imagine me ungrateful?"

"Not when you are in your right senses. "

"Ungrateful!" exclaimed Mr. Langford. "What is he accusing you of, Henrietta? What is the meaning of all this?"

"Nothing, " said Uncle Geoffrey, "but that Henrietta and I have both beensomewhat angry with each other; but we have made it up now, have we not, Henrietta?"

It was wonderful how much good the very air of the hall was doingHenrietta, and how fast it was restoring her energy and power of turningher mind to other things. She answered a few remarks of grandpapa'swith very tolerable cheerfulness, and even when the hall door openedand admitted Uncle and Aunt Roger, she did not run away, but stayed toreceive their greetings before turning to ascend the stairs. 

"You are not going to shut yourself up in your own room again?" saidgrandpapa. 

"No, I was only going to Fred, " said she, growing as desirous of seeinghim as she had before been averse to it. 

"Suppose, " said Uncle Geoffrey, "that you were to take a turn or tworound the garden first. There is Queen Bee, she will go out with you, and you will bring Fred in a fresher face. "

"I will fetch your bonnet, " said Queen Bee, who was standing at the topof the stairs, wisely refraining from expressing her astonishment atseeing her cousin in the hall. 

And before Henrietta had time to object, the bonnet was on her head, ashawl thrown round her, Beatrice had drawn her arm within hers, and hadopened the sashed door into the garden. 

It was a regular April day, with all the brilliancy and clearness of thesunshine that comes between showers, the white clouds hung in huge softmasses on the blue sky, the leaves of the evergreens were glisteningwith drops of rain, the birds sang sweetly in the shrubs around. Henrietta's burning eyes felt refreshed, and though she sighed heavily, she could not help admiring, but Beatrice was surprised that the firstthing she began to say was an earnest inquiry after Aunt Geoffrey, and awarm expression of gratitude towards her. 

Then the conversation died away again, and they completed their twoturns in silence; but Henrietta's heart began to fail her when shethought of going in without having her to greet. She lingered and couldhardly resolve to go, but at length she entered, walked up the stairs, gave her shawl and bonnet to Beatrice, and tapped at Fred's door. 

"Is that you?" was his eager answer, and as she entered he came forwardto meet her. "Poor Henrietta!" was all he said, as she put her arm roundhis neck and kissed him, and then leaning on her he returned to hissofa, made her sit by him, and showed all sorts of kind solicitude forher comfort. She had cried so much that she felt as if she could cry nolonger, but she reproached herself excessively for having left him tohimself so long, when all he wanted was to comfort her; and she tried tomake some apology. 

"I am sorry I did not come sooner, Fred. "

"O, it is of no use to talk about it, " said Fred, playing with her longcurls as she sat on a footstool close to him, just as she used to do intimes long gone by. "You are come now, and that is all I want. Have youbeen out? I thought I heard the garden door just before you came in. "

"Yes, I took two turns with Queen Bee. How bright and sunny it is. Andhow are you this morning, Freddy?"

"O, pretty well I think, " said he, sighing, as if he cared little aboutthe matter. "I wanted to show you this, Henrietta. " And he took up abook where he had marked a passage for her. She saw several paper marksin some other books, and perceived with shame that he had been readingyesterday, and choosing out what might comfort her, his selfish sister, as she could not help feeling herself. 

And here was the first great point gained, though there was stillmuch for Henrietta to learn. It was the first time she had ever beenconscious of her own selfishness, or perhaps more justly, of herproneness to make all give way to her own feeling of the moment. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

There was some question as to who should attend the funeral. Henriettashuddered and trembled all over as if it were a cruelty to mention itbefore her; but Frederick was very desirous that she should be there, partly from a sort of feeling that she would represent himself, andpartly from a strong conviction that it would be good for her. She waswilling to do anything or everything for him, to make up for her day'sneglect: and she consented, though with many tears, and was glad that atleast Fred seemed satisfied, and her uncle looked pleased with her. 

Aunt Geoffrey undertook to stay with Fred, and Henrietta, who clung muchto Beatrice, felt relieved by the thought of her support in such an hourof trial. She remembered the day when, with a kind of agreeable emotion, she had figured to herself her father's funeral, little thinking of thereality that so soon awaited her, so much worse, as she thought, than what any of them could even then have felt; and it seemed to herperfectly impossible that she should ever have power to go through withit. 

In was much, however, that she should have agreed to what in theprospect gave her so much pain; and perhaps, for that very reason, she found the reality less overwhelming than she had dreaded. Seeingnothing, observing nothing, hardly conscious of anything, she walkedalong, wrapped in one absorbing sense of wretchedness; and the firstwords that "broke the stillness of that hour, " healing as they were, seemed but to add certainty to that one thought that "she was gone. " Butwhile the Psalms and the Lessons were read, the first heavy oppressionof grief seemed in some degree to grow lighter. She could listen, andthe words reached her mind; a degree of thankfulness arose to Him Whohad wiped away the tears from her mother's eyes, and by Whom the stingof death had been taken away. Yes; she had waited in faith, in patience, in meek submission, until now her long widowhood was over; and whatbetter for her could those who most loved her desire, than that sheshould safely sleep in the chancel of the Church of her childhood, closeto him whom she had so loved and so mourned, until the time when bothshould once more awaken, --the corruptible should put on incorruption, the mortal should put on immortality, and death be swallowed up invictory. 

Something of this was what Henrietta began to feel; and though the tearsflowed fast, they were not the bitter drops of personal sorrow. She wasenabled to bear, without the agony she had expected, the standing roundthe grave in the chancel; nor did her heart swell rebelliously againstthe expression that it was "in great mercy that the soul of this ourdear sister" was taken, even though she shrank and shivered at the soundof the earth cast in, which would seem to close up from her for everthe most loved and loving creature that she would ever know. No, not forever, --might she too but keep her part in Him Who is the Resurrectionand the Life--might she be found acceptable in His sight, and receivethe blessing to be pronounced to all that love and fear Him. 

It was over: they all stood round for a few minutes. At last Mr. Langford moved; Henrietta was also obliged to turn away, but beforedoing so, she raised her eyes to her father's name, to take leave of himas it were, as she always did before going out of Church. She met herUncle Geoffrey's eye as she did so, and took his arm; and as soon asshe was out of the church, she said almost in a whisper, "Uncle, I don'twish for him now. "

He pressed her arm, and looked most kindly at her, but he did not speak, for he could hardly command his voice; and he saw, too, that she mightsafely be trusted to the influences of that only true consolation whichwas coming upon her. 

They came home--to the home that looked as if it would fain be once morecheerful, with the front window blinds drawn up again, and the solemnstillness no longer observed. Henrietta hastened up to her own room, for she could not bear to show herself to her brother in her long crapeveil. She threw her bonnet off, knelt down for a few minutes, but roseon hearing the approach of Beatrice, who still shared the same room. Beatrice came in, and looked at her for a few moments, as if doubtfulhow to address her; but at last she put her hand on her shoulder, andlooking earnestly in her face, repeated--

"Then cheerily to your work again, With hearts new braced and set, Torun untir'd love's blessed race, As meet for those who, face to face, Over the grave their Lord have met. "

"Yes, Queenie, " said Henrietta, giving a long sigh, "it is a verydifferent world to me now; but I do mean to try. And first, dear Bee, you must let me thank you for having been very kind to me this long timepast, though I am afraid I showed little thankfulness. " She kissed heraffectionately, and the tears almost choked Beatrice. 

"Me! me, of all people, " she said. "O, Henrietta!"

"We must talk of it all another time, " said Henrietta, "but now it willnot do to stay away from Fred any longer. Don't think this like the dayswhen I used to run away from you in the winter, Bee--that time when Iwould not stop and talk about the verses on the holly. "

While she spoke, there was something of the "new bracing" visible inevery movement, as she set her dress to rights, and arranged her curls, which of late she had been used to allow to hang in a deplorable way, that showed how little vigour or inclination to bear up there was abouther whole frame. 

"O no, do not stay with me, " said Queen Bee, "I am going"--to mamma, shewould have said, but she hardly knew how to use the word when speakingto Henrietta. 

"Yes, " said Henrietta, understanding her. "And tell her, Bee--for I amsure I shall never be able to say it to her, --all about our thanks, andhow sorry I am that I cared so little about her or her comfort. " "If Ihad only believed, instead of blinding myself so wilfully!" she almostwhispered to herself with a deep sigh; but being now ready, she randownstairs and entered her brother's room. His countenance boretraces of weeping, but he was still calm; and as she came in he lookedanxiously at her. She spoke quietly as she sat down by him, put her handinto his, and said, "Thank you, dear Fred, for making me go. "

"I was quite sure you would be glad when it was over, " said Fred. "Ihave been reading the service with Aunt Geoffrey, but that is a verydifferent thing. "

"It will all come to you when you go to Church again, " said Henrietta. 

"How little I thought that New Year's Day--!" said Fred. 

"Ah! and how little we either of us thought last summer's holidays!"said Henrietta. "If it was not for that, I could bear it all better;but it was my determination to come here that seems to have causedeverything, and that is the thought I cannot bear. "

"I was talking all that over with Uncle Geoffrey last night, " saidFred, "and he especially warned us against reproaching ourselves withconsequences. He said it was he who had helped my father to choose thehorse that caused his death, and asked me if I thought he ought to blamehimself for that. I said no; and he went on to tell me that he did notthink we ought to take unhappiness to ourselves for what has happenednow; that we ought to think of the actions themselves, instead of theresults. Now my skating that day was just as bad as my driving, except, to be sure, that I put nobody in danger but myself; it was just as muchdisobedience, and I ought to be just as sorry for it, though nothingcame of it, except that I grew more wilful. "

"Yes, " said Henrietta, "but I shall always feel as if everything hadbeen caused by me. I am sure I shall never dare wish anything again. "

"It was just as much my wish as yours, " said Fred. 

"Ah! but you did not go on always trying to make her do what youpleased, and keeping her to it, and almost thinking it a thing ofcourse, to make her give up her wishes to yours. That was what I wasalways doing, and now I can never make up for it!"

"O yes, " said Fred, "we can never feel otherwise than that. To know howshe forgave us both, and how her wishes always turned to be the sameas ours, if ours were not actually wrong; that is little comfort toremember, now, but perhaps it will be in time. But don't you see, Henrietta, my dear, what Uncle Geoffrey means?--that if you did domineerover her, it was very wrong, and you may be sorry for that; but that youmust not accuse yourself of doing all the mischief by bringing her here. He says he does not know whether it was not, after all, what was mostfor her comfort, if--"

"O, Freddy, to have you almost killed!"

"If the thoughts I have had lately will but stay with me when I am wellagain, I do not think my accident will be a matter of regret, Henrietta. Just consider, when I was so disobedient in these little things, andattending so little to her or to Uncle Geoffrey, how likely it was thatI might have gone on to much worse at school and college. "

"Never, never!" said Henrietta. 

"Not now, I hope, " said Fred; "but that was not what I meant to say. Noone could say, Uncle Geoffrey told me, that the illness was brought oneither by anxiety or over-exertion. The complaint was of long standing, and must have made progress some time or other; and he said that he wasconvinced that, as she said to Aunt Geoffrey, she had rather have beenhere than anywhere else. She said she could only be sorry for grandpapaand grandmamma's sake, but that for herself it was great happiness tohave been to Knight Sutton Church once more; and she was most thankfulthat she had come to die in my father's home, after seeing us wellsettled here, instead of leaving us to come to it as a strange place. "

"How little we guessed it was for that, " said Henrietta. "O what were wedoing? But if it made her happy--"

"Just imagine what to-day would have been if we were at Rocksand, " saidFred. "I, obliged to go back to school directly, and you, taking leaveof everything there which would seem to you so full of her; and UncleGeoffrey, just bringing you here without any time to stay with you, andthe place and people all strange. I am sure that she who thought so muchfor you, must have rejoiced that you are at home here already. "

"Home!" said Henrietta, "how determinedly we used to call it so! But O, that my wish should have turned out in such a manner! If it has been alloverruled so as to be happiness to her, as I am sure it has, I cannotcomplain; but I think I shall never wish again, or care for my own way. "

"The devices and desires of our own hearts!" said Fred. 

"I don't think I shall ever have spirit enough to be wilful for my ownsake, " proceeded Henrietta. "Nothing will ever be the same pleasure tome, as when she used to be my other self, and enjoy it all over againfor me; so that it was all twofold!" Here she hid her face, and hertears streamed fast, but they were soft and calm; and when she saw thatFred also was much overcome, she recalled her energies in a minute. 

"But, Fred, I may well be thankful that I have you, which is far morethan I deserve; and as long as we do what she wished, we are stillobeying her. I think at last I may get something of the right sort offeeling; for I am sure I see much better now what she and grandpapa usedto mean when they talked about dear papa. And now do you like for me toread to you?"

Few words more require to be said of Frederick and Henrietta Langford. Knight Sutton Hall was according to their mother's wish, their home;and there Henrietta had the consolation, during the advancing spring andsummer, of watching her brother's recovery, which was very slow, but atthe same time steady. Mrs. Geoffrey Langford stayed with her as long ashe required much nursing; and Henrietta learnt to look upon her, not asquite a mother, but at any rate as more than an aunt, far more thanshe had ever been to her before; and when at length she was obliged toreturn to Westminster, it was a great satisfaction to think how soon thevacation would bring them all back to Knight Sutton. 

The holidays arrived, and with them Alexander, who, to his greatdisappointment, was obliged to give up all his generous hopes that Fredwould be one of his competitors for the prize, when he found him ableindeed to be with the family, to walk short distances, and to resumemany of his former habits; but still very easily tired, and his head ina condition to suffer severely from noise, excitement, or application. Perhaps this was no bad thing for their newly formed alliance, asAlex had numberless opportunities of developing his consideration andkindness, by silencing his brothers, assisting his cousin when tired, and again and again silently giving up some favourite scheme ofamusement when Fred proved to be unequal to it. Even Henrietta herselfalmost learned to trust Fred to Alex's care, which was so much lessirritating than her own; and how greatly the Queen Bee was improved isbest shown, when it is related, that neither by word nor look didshe once interrupt the harmony between them, or attempt to obtain theattention, of which, in fact, she always had as large a share as anyreasonable person could desire. 

How fond Fred learnt to be of Alex will be easily understood, and thebest requital of his kindness that he could devise was an offer--a veryadventurous one, as was thought by all who heard of it--to undertakelittle Willy's Latin, which being now far beyond Aunt Roger's knowledge, had been under Alex's care for the holidays. Willy was a very goodpupil on the whole--better, it was said by most, than Alex himself hadbeen--and very fond of Fred; but Latin grammar and Caesar formed sucha test as perhaps their alliance would scarcely have endured, if in aninsensible manner Willy and his books had not gradually been made overto Henrietta, whose great usefulness and good nature in this respectquite made up, in grandmamma's eyes, for her very tolerable amount ofacquirements in Latin and Greek. 

By the time care for her brother's health had ceased to be Henrietta'sgrand object, and she was obliged once more to see him depart to pursuehis education, a whole circle of pursuits and occupations had sprung uparound her, and given her the happiness of feeling herself both usefuland valued. Old Mr. Langford saw in her almost the Mary he had partedwith when resumed in early girlhood by Mrs. Vivian; Mrs. Langford had agranddaughter who would either be petted, sent on messages, or be civilto the Careys, as occasion served; Aunt Roger was really gratefulto her, as well for the Latin and Greek she bestowed upon Willy andCharlie, as for the braided merino frocks or coats on which Bennet usedto exercise her taste when Henrietta's wardrobe failed to afford hersufficient occupation. The boys all liked her, made a friend of her, and demonstrated it in various ways more or less uncouth: her mannersgradually acquired the influence over them which Queen Bee had onlyexerted over Alex and Willy, and when, saving Carey and Dick, they grewless awkward and bearish, without losing their honest downrightgood humour and good nature, Uncle Geoffrey only did her justice inattributing the change to her unconscious power. Miss Henrietta wasalso the friend of the poor women, the teacher and guide of the schoolchildren, and in their eyes and imagination second to no one but Mr. Franklin. And withal she did not cease to be all that she had ever beento her brother, if not still more. His heart and soul were for her, andscarce a joy and sorrow but was shared between them. She was his home, his everything, and she well fulfilled her mother's parting trust ofbeing his truest friend and best-loved counsellor. 

Would that her own want of submission and resignation had not preventedher from hearing the dear accents in which that charge was conveyed!This was, perhaps, the most deeply felt sorrow that followed her throughlife; and even with the fair peaceful image of her beloved mother, there was linked a painful memory of a long course of wilfulness anddomineering on her own part. But there was much to be dwelt on thatspoke only of blessedness and love, and each day brought her nearer toher whom she had lost, so long as she was humbly striving to walk in thesteps of Him Who "came not to do His own will, but the will of Him thatsent Him. "

THE END