far as my father was concerned, my journey to the country did no
good. I might have returned to London the day after my arrival at the
Hall, without altering his opinion of me--but I stayed the whole week
nevertheless, for Clara's sake.

In spite of the pleasure afforded by my sister's society, my visit was a
painful one. The selfish longing to be back with Margaret, which I could
not wholly repress; my father's coldness; and the winter gloom and rain
which confined us almost incessantly within doors, all tended in their
different degrees to prevent my living at ease in the Hall. But, besides
these causes of embarrassment, I had the additional mortification of
feeling, for the first time, as a stranger in my own home.

Nothing in the house looked to me what it used to look in former years.
The rooms, the old servants, the walks and views, the domestic animals,
all appeared to have altered, or to have lost something, since I had
seen them last. Particular rooms that I had once been fond of occupying,
were favourites no longer: particular habits that I had hitherto always
practised in the country, I could only succeed in resuming by an effort
which vexed and fretted me. It was as if my life had run into a new
channel since my last autumn and winter at the Hall, and now refused to
flow back at my bidding into its old course. Home seemed home no longer,
except in name.

As soon as the week was over, my father and I parted exactly as we had
met. When I took leave of Clara, she refrained from making any allusion
to the shortness of my stay; and merely said that we should soon meet
again in London. She evidently saw that my visit had weighed a little
on my spirits, and was determined to give to our short farewell as happy
and hopeful a character as possible. We now thoroughly understood each
other; and that was some consolation on leaving her.

Immediately on my return to London I repaired to North Villa.

Nothing, I was told, had happened in my absence, but I remarked some
change in Margaret. She looked pale and nervous, and was more silent
than I had ever known her to be before, when we met. She accounted
for this, in answer to my inquiries, by saying that confinement to the
house, in consequence of the raw, wintry weather, had a little affected
her; and then changed the subject. In other directions, household
aspects had not deviated from their accustomed monotony. As usual, Mrs.
Sherwin was at her post in the drawing-