n home, and
Oliver and Cheveleigh were more to her than even James and Dynevor
Terrace; so that, though she was sorry, it was not with a melancholy
sorrow, and she could still hope against hope, that uncle and nephew
might be brought together at last, and that a son of James would yet
reign in the dear old place.

Besides, she had not time to be unhappy. She was fully employed
nursing Isabel, doing honour to the little one, answering Oliver's
letters, superintending Clara's wardrobe; choosing parting gifts for
innumerable friends, high and low; and making arrangements for the
inexperienced household.

Jane's place was to be--not exactly supplied, but occupied by a cook.
Miss Dynevor was to have 'a personal attendant;' and Mrs. Beckett
begged that Marianne might be chosen, since she could not bear to see
the poor thing sent away, when in so much need of care. The diamonds,
the French millinery, and Jane's motherly care, came in strong contrast
to the miserable lodging, or the consumptive hospital, which poor
Marianne had begun to anticipate; and weeping with gratitude, she
declared that she had never seen nor thought of such kindness since her
mother died.

Isabel seldom roused herself to understand anything about her servants;
but she liked Marianne, and was glad Clara should have her, since she
was not strong enough to undertake nursery cares. She believed it had
not agreed with her to sit up late. Compunction for having been the
cause had never dawned on Isabel's mind.

Charlotte was to remain at Dynevor Terrace; James and Isabel wished to
keep her, and Mrs. Beckett thought her sufficiently indoctrinated with
her ways to have some chance of going on well. 'Besides,' as Jane
said, 'I can't be accountable for taking her into that large family,
until I see what company there may be. She's a well-behaved girl
enough, but she's too pretty and too simple-like for me to have her
among the common run of servants. I'll see what I can do for her, when
I see what sort of a housekeeper it is.'

And Jane gave Charlotte infinite injunctions, varying from due care of
the 'chaney images' to reserve with mankind. 'Because you see,
Charlotte' she said, 'you'll be terribly forsaken. Mrs. James, poor
dear!--she would not know if the furniture weren't rubbed once in ten
years; but you must make it a pride to yourself to be faithful.'

'I am faithful!' cried Charlotte. 'I never cared for that traitor,
Delaford, and his gu