fter church they
saw him striding up the path, leading the pony carrying his wife and
baby. And while they were still busy welcoming her back, came a ring at
the door, and a loud voice, asking if the owner of it might come in.

Who but Tom Troubridge! Who else was there to raise her four good feet
off the ground, and kiss her on both cheeks, and call her his darling
little sister! Who else was there who could have changed their tears
into laughter so quick that their merriment was wafted up to the
Vicar's room, and made him ring his bell, and tell them to send Tom up
to him! And who but Tom could have lit the old man's face up with a
smile, with the history of a new colt, that my lord's mare Thetis had
dropped last week!

That was her welcome home. To the home she had dreaded coming to,
expecting to be received with scorn and reproaches. To the home she had
meant to come to only as a penitent, to leave her child there and go
forth into the world to die. And here she found herself the honoured
guest--treated as one who had been away on a journey, whom they had
been waiting and praying for all the time, and who came back to them
sooner than expected. None hold the force of domestic affection so
cheap as those who violate it most rudely. How many proud unhappy souls
are there at this moment, voluntarily absenting themselves from all
that love them in the world, because they dread sneers and cold looks
at home! And how many of these, going back, would find only tears of
joy to welcome them, and hear that ever since their absence they had
been spoken of with kindness and tenderness, and loved, perhaps, above
all the others!

After dinner, when the women were alone together, Mrs. Buckley began,--

"Now, my dear Mary, you must hear all the news. My husband has had a
letter from Stockbridge."

"Ah, dear old Jim!" said Mary; "and how is he?"

"He and Hamlyn are quite well," said Mrs. Buckley, "and settled. He has
written such an account of that country to Major Buckley, that he, half
persuaded before, is now wholly determined to go there himself."

"I heard of this before," said Mary. "Am I to lose you, then, at once?"

"We shall see," said Mrs. Buckley; "I have my ideas. Now, who do you
think is going beside?"

"Half Devonshire, I should think," said Mary; "at least, all whom I
care about."

"It would seem so, indeed, my poor girl," said Mrs. Buckley; "for your
cousin Troubridge has made up his mind to come."

"Th