assed the public.
You heard no swearing nor rowing, I'll warrant. You'll find church, and
chapel too, both full of Sundays; and there's scarce a house where the
Bible isn't read every night. Ah! the drink's the great curse as robs
the heart of its love, the head of its sense, and the soul of its
glory!"

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

CONCLUSION.

There just remain a few creases to be smoothed out, and our story is
done.

The morning after Samuel's arrival Betty made her way to the Hall,
taking her brother with her. She knew that the squire and his lady, and
indeed the whole family, would rejoice to hear that the wanderer was
returned, for all loved the simple-hearted Lancashire girl, and had long
sympathised with her and her father in their sorrow about Samuel.

Mr Collington and his lady having heard Betty's statement with the
deepest interest, sent for Samuel, and had a long conversation with him.

"And what do you say to entering my service?" asked the squire. "We
have learned to prize your father and sister so highly, that I shall
feel perfect confidence in taking you with no other recommendation than
your story and your relationship to them."

"Well, sir," replied Samuel, "you're very good. I'm tired of roving,
and shall be glad to settle, if you can find me a place as'll suit me;
only I mustn't forget as there's others I owe a duty to."

"You mean the friends you have left behind in Bolton?"

"Yes, sir," said Betty; "he's bound to be looking arter them. And
there's Deborah, as he'll be bringing to share his home with him."

"And Old Crow too?" asked Mrs Collington.

"I cannot say, ma'am," replied Samuel; "but I must either take his cart
back to him, or bring him over this side to his cart."

"Well, we'll see what can be done," said the squire.

Let us leave them for a while, and pass to Greymoor Park. Sir Thomas
and Lady Oldfield have left it for an absence of several years; indeed,
many doubts are expressed in the neighbourhood whether they will ever
come back to reside there again. There is the stamp of neglect and
sorrow upon the place. Sir Thomas has become a more thoughtful man--he
is breaking up, so people say. His wife has found a measure of comfort
at the only true Fountain, for her religion is now the substance--it was
once only the shadow. But the past cannot be recalled, and a sorrow
lies heavy on her heart which must go with her to her grave; and oh,
there is a peculiar bitterness