of East Lynne.

"Let me see," mused he as he closed the gate behind him, and slipped the
bolt. "The covered walk? That must be near the acacia trees. Then I
must wind round to the right. I wonder if either of them will be there,
waiting for me?"

Yes. Pacing the covered walk in her bonnet and mantle, as if taking an
evening stroll--had any one encountered her, which was very unlikely,
seeing that it was the most retired spot in the grounds--was Mrs.
Carlyle.

"Oh, Richard! My poor brother!"

Locked in a yearning embrace, emotion overpowered both. Barbara sobbed
like a child. A little while, and then he put her from him, to look at
her.

"So Barbara, you are a wife now?"

"Oh, the happiest wife! Richard, sometimes I ask myself what I have done
that God should have showered down blessings so great upon me. But
for the sad trouble when I think of you, my life would be as one long
summer's day. I have the sweetest baby--nearly a year old he is now; I
shall have another soon, God willing. And Archibald--oh, I am so happy!"

She broke suddenly off with the name "Archibald;" not even to Richard
could she speak of her intense love for, and happiness in her husband.

"How is it at the Grove?" he asked.

"Quite well; quite as usual. Mamma has been in better health lately. She
does not know of this visit, but--"

"I must see her," interrupted Richard. "I did not see her the last time,
you remember."

"All in good time to talk of that. How are you getting on in Liverpool?
What are you doing?"

"Don't inquire too closely, Barbara. I have no regular work, but I get a
job at the docks, now and then, and rub on. It is seasonable help, that,
which comes to me occasionally from you. Is it from you or Carlyle?"

Barbara laughed. "How are we to distinguish? His money is mine now, and
mine is his. We don't have separate purses, Richard; we send it to you
jointly."

"Sometimes I have fancied it came from my mother."

Barbara shook her head. "We have never allowed mamma to know that you
left London, or that we hold an address where we can write to you. It
would not have done."

"Why have you summoned me here, Barbara? What has turned up?"

"Thorn has--I think. You would know him again Richard?"

"Know him!" passionately echoed Richard Hare.

"Were you aware that a contest for the membership is going on at West
Lynne?"

"I saw it in the newspapers. Carlyle against Sir Francis Levison. I say,
Barbara, how could he th