" he said, colouring, "responsible for the price of the
lessons, only I do not desire to let Miss Mainwaring know this."

"I must look in the book of engagements," Miss Herschel said; "we are
over-full as it is. The days lost in the removal threw us back, but,"
she said, drawing a book with a marble-paper cover from her capacious
pocket, "_I_ will run my eye over the lists, and try to arrange it,
William."

But Mr. Herschel had left the room; he returned in a few minutes to say:

"Lina, the men will be here as soon as it is light to-morrow about the
furnace; and, Lina, I shall be glad to have the micrometer lamp and the
fire in my room."

"Yes, William;" and the question of singing-lessons for Griselda
Mainwaring, or anyone else, was for the time forgotten.

Far into the night did that loyal-hearted sister, tired with a hard
day's work, assist her brother in the arrangement of his new study--his
_sanctum sanctorum_, on the top-floor of the house, made memorable in
the annals of Bath and the records of the country, to which he, William
Herschel, came a stranger, as the spot where his labour received the
crown of success in the discovery of Uranus.

CHAPTER XII.

DISCOVERED.

Griselda shrank from meeting Lady Betty after the stormy scene of the
previous day, and Graves brought her breakfast to her own room.

"Did you send my letter, Graves?"

"Yes."

"Surely, by a safe hand?"

"I hope you don't think David's unsafe!" was the short reply.

"Graves, why _are_ you so gloomy--like the day? Oh!" she said, turning
to the window, which was blurred with a driving mist of rain--"oh! there
ought to be sunshine everywhere to suit me to-day."

"There's not likely to be a ray of sun to-day. Bath folks say that if
the weather once sets in like this, it goes on rain, rain----"

"Well, it can't last for ever--nothing does."

"No; that's true," said Graves.

Griselda now settled herself to her breakfast with the appetite of
youth; and, as Graves left the room, she said:

"Bring the letter the instant it comes, Graves--the answer to _my_
letter, I mean; or perhaps Mr. Travers may come himself."

But the day wore on, and Griselda waited and watched in vain. She tried
to occupy herself with her violin; she made a fair copy of her verses,
and smiled as she thought, that waiting--_her_ waiting--had at last been
crowned with reward.

Then she fell into dreams of her past life; the dull dreary round at
Longuevil