r plans.
It was exceedingly doubtful whether Oliver would hear of living at
Dynevor Terrace, and Clara could not be separated from him; besides
which, she was resolved that her brother should not be burthened, and
she would give James no promises, conditional or otherwise.

Mr. Dynevor had discovered that Morrison had been in the house, and was
obviously restless to know what had taken place. By-and-by he said to
Jane, with an air of inquiry, 'Why does not the young man come near me?'

Mrs. Beckett was too happy to report the invitation, telling 'Master
Jem' at the same time that 'he was not to rake up nothing gone and
past; there was quite troubles enough for one while.' Clara thought
the same, and besides was secretly sure that if he admitted that he had
been wrong in part, his uncle would imagine him to mean that he had
been wrong in the whole. Their instructions and precautions were
trying to James, whose chaplaincy had given him more experience of the
sick and the feeble than they gave him credit for; but he was patient
enough to amaze Clara and pacify Jane, who ushered him into the
sick-chamber. There, even in his worst days, he must have laid aside
ill-feeling at the aspect of the shrunken, broken figure in the
pillowed arm-chair, prematurely aged, his hair thin and white, his face
shrivelled, his eyelid drooping, and mouth contracted. He was still
some years under sixty; but this was the result of toil and climate--of
the labour generously designed, but how conducted, how resulting?

He had not learned to put out his left hand--he only made a sharp nod,
as James, with tender and humble respect, approached, feeling that, how
his grandmother was gone, this frail old man, his father's brother, was
the last who claimed by right his filial love and gratitude. How
different from the rancour and animosity with which he had met his
former advances!

He ventured gently on kindly hopes that his uncle was better, and they
were not ill taken, though not without fretfulness. Presently Oliver
said, 'Come to look after your sister? that's right--good girl, good
girl!'

'That she is!' exclaimed James, heartily.

'Too hasty! too great hurry,' resumed Oliver; 'she had better have
waited, saved the old place,--never mind what became of the old man,
one-half dead already.'

'She would not have been a Clara good for much, if she had treated you
after that fashion, sir,' said James, smiling.

He gave his accustomed s