d Violet, in a cold hard
voice. "Why not let them stay at Briarwood till Lady Mabel is mistress
there?"

Mr. Scobel did not enter into this discussion. He sat serenely gazing
at the fire, and sipping his tea, enjoying this hour of rest and warmth
after a long day's fatigue and hard weather. He had an Advent service
at seven o'clock that evening, and would but just have time to tramp
home through the winter dark, and take a hurried meal, before he ran
across to his neat little vestry and shuffled on his surplice, while
Mrs. Scobel played her plaintive voluntary on the twenty-guinea
harmonium.

"And where is young Vawdrey now?" inquired Mrs. Tempest blandly.

She could only think of the Squire of Briarwood as the lad from
Eton--clumsy, shy, given to breaking teacups, and leaving the track of
his footsteps in clay or mud upon the Aubusson carpets.

"He has not come home yet. The Duke and Duchess went to Florence just
before Lady Jane's death, and I believe Mr. Vawdrey is with them in
Rome. Briarwood has been shut up since September."

"Didn't I tell you, mamma, that somebody would be dead," cried Violet.
"I felt when we came into this house yesterday evening, that everything
in our lives was changed."

"I should hardly think mourning can be very becoming to Lady Mabel,"
ruminated Mrs. Tempest. "Those small sylph-like figures rarely look
well in black."

Mr. Scobel rose with an effort to make his adieux. The delicious warmth
of the wood-fire, the perfume of arbutus logs, had made him sleepy.

"You'll come and see our new school, I hope," he said to Violet, as
they shook hands. "You and your dear mamma have contributed so largely
to its erection that you have a right to be critical; but I really
think you will be pleased."

"We'll come to-morrow afternoon, if it's fine," said Mrs. Tempest
graciously. "You must bring Mrs. Scobel to dinner at seven, and then we
can talk over all we have seen."

"You are very kind. I've my young women's scripture-class at a
quarter-past eight; but if you will let me run away for an hour----"

"Certainly."

"I can come back for Mrs. Scobel. Thanks. We shall be delighted."

When he was gone, Violet walked towards the door without a word to her
mother.

"Violet, are you going away again? Pray stop, child, and let us have a
chat."

"I have nothing to talk about, mamma."

"Nonsense. You have quite deserted me since we came home. And do you
suppose I don't feel dull and depresse