d stay'd. I should like to know what Major Butler would say
to Mr. Tyrrel, if he was to meet him. Zooks! may be Butler will see him
this very morning at Mrs. Dimock's. Now, I wonder! Shall I whisper that
to sister Mildred? She would be glad, for one, I'll be bound! May be,
they might have a fight. And if they do, let Mr. Tyrrel look out! He
never had his bread so buttered in his life, as it would be then."

In such a strain of cogitation and conjecture, Henry reached the parlor,
where he found Mildred. The melancholy that hung upon her spirits, the
evening before, seemed to have been dispelled by the repose of the
night, and was doubtless relieved, in part, by the intelligence that
Tyrrel had quitted the Dove Cote.

"Come, sister," said Henry, throwing his arm round her waist, and almost
dancing, as he forced her through the open window, "come, it will be a
good while before father is ready for his breakfast. Let us look at your
flowers; I have something to tell you."

"You are quite an important personage, this morning," replied Mildred,
moving off towards the lawn with her brother. "Your face looks as wise
as a book of proverbs."

It was some time before the brother and sister returned to the parlor,
and when they did so, their father had not yet appeared. The delay was
unusual; for Lindsay generally rose at an early hour, and frequently
walked abroad before his morning meal. When he at last entered the room,
there was an expression of care and thought upon his brow that made him
haggard. Mildred, as was her custom, approached him with a kiss, and,
taking both of his hands, as she looked up in his face, she said, with
some earnestness:

"You are not well, my dear father."

Lindsay paused a moment, while he gazed affectionately upon her, and
then pressing her to his bosom, uttered in a low voice, with a smile,--

"God bless my dear child! How carefully does she read my looks! Come
hither, Henry," he continued, as he gave his son one hand, and still
held Mildred with the other, and then turned his eyes alternately upon
each. "Now, tell me, which of you love me best? Who has waited most
patiently for me this morning? I see by that glance of your blue eye,
master Henry, that you have been chiding your lazy father for lying so
long abed. Now, I dare say, if the truth were known, you have had your
rifle ready to go out and shoot squirrels an hour ago. I beg your
pardon, Mr. Sportsman--not to shoot the squirrel, but t