d his niece would take
up their abode with him, and that Anne would share with the
grandmother the care of the young Philip, a spirited little fellow
who would soon be running wild with the grooms, without the
attention that his aunt had bestowed on him.

Dr. Woodford himself was much inclined to accept the office of
chaplain to his old friend, who he knew would be far happier for his
company; and Anne's heart bounded at the thought of bringing up
Charles's child, but that very start of joy made her blush and
hesitate, and finally surprise the two old gentlemen by saying, with
crimson cheeks--

"Sir, your Honour ought to know what might make you change your
mind. There have been passages between Mr. Archfield and me."

Sir Philip laughed. "Ah, the rogue! You were always little
sweethearts as children. Why, Anne, you should know better than to
heed what a young soldier says."

"No doubt you have other views for your son," said Dr. Woodford,
"and I trust that my niece has too much discretion and sense of
propriety to think that they can be interfered with on her account."

"Passages!" repeated Sir Philip thoughtfully. "Mistress Anne, how
much do you mean by that? Surely there is no promise between you?"

"No, sir," said Anne; "I would not give any; but when we parted in
Flanders he asked me to--to wait for him, and I feel that you ought
to know it."

"Oh, I understand!" said the baronet. "It was only natural to an
old friend in a foreign land, and you have too much sense to dwell
on a young man's folly, though it was an honourable scruple that
made you tell me, my dear maid. But he is not come or coming yet,
more's the pity, so there is no need to think about it at present."

Anne's cheeks did not look as if she had attained that wisdom; but
her conscience was clear, since she had told the fact, and the
father did not choose to take it seriously. To say how she herself
loved Charles would have been undignified and nothing to the
purpose, since her feelings were not what would be regarded, and
there was no need to mention her full and entire purpose to wed no
one else. Time enough for that if the proposal were made.

So the uncle and niece entered on their new life, with some loss of
independence, and to the Doctor a greater loss in the neighbourhood
of the Cathedral and its library; for after the first year or two,
as Lady Archfield grew rheumatic, and Sir Philip had his old friend
to play backgammon