timating　that　he　supposed　they　would　soon　rejoin　him　in　the　parlour；　withdrew　there　as　to　a　place　of　refuge。

I　had　lit　their　candles　to　go　upstairs；　but　Diana　had　first　to　give　hospitable　orders　respecting　the　driver；　this　done；　both　followed　me。　They　were　delighted　with　the　renovation　and　decorations　of　their　rooms；　with　the　new　drapery；　and　fresh　carpets；　and　rich　tinted　china　vases：　they　expressed　their　gratification　ungrudgingly。　I　had　the　pleasure　of　feeling　that　my　arrangements　met　their　wishes　exactly；　and　that　what　I　had　done　added　a　vivid　charm　to　their　joyous　return　home。

Sweet　was　that　evening。　My　cousins；　full　of　exhilaration；　were　so　eloquent　in　narrative　and　ment；　that　their　fluency　covered　St。　John’s　taciturnity：　he　was　sincerely　glad　to　see　his　sisters；　but　in　their　glow　of　fervour　and　flow　of　joy　he　could　not　sympathise。　The　event　of　the　day—that　is；　the　return　of　Diana　and　Mary—pleased　him；　but　the　acpaniments　of　that　event；　the　glad　tumult；　the　garrulous　glee　of　reception　irked　him：　I　saw　he　wished　the　calmer　morrow　was　e。　In　the　very　meridian　of　the　night’s　enjoyment；　about　an　hour　after　tea；　a　rap　was　heard　at　the　door。　Hannah　entered　with　the　intimation　that　“a　poor　lad　was　e；　at　that　unlikely　time；　to　fetch　Mr。　Rivers　to　see　his　mother；　who　was　drawing　away。”

“Where　does　she　live；　Hannah？”

“Clear　up　at　Whitcross　Brow；　almost　four　miles　off；　and　moor　and　moss　all　the　way。”

“Tell　him　I　will　go。”

“I’m　sure；　sir；　yo