stone.

'Very sad--very,' said her husband. 'I must start off to him at
once--yes, at once. Should you not say so--eh, Philip?'

'Certainly. I think I had better go with you. It would be the correct
thing, and I should not like to fail in any token of respect for poor
old Sir Guy.'

'Of course--of course,' said Mr. Edmonstone; 'it would be the correct
thing. I am sure he was always very civil to us, and you are next heir
after this boy.'

Little Charlotte made a sort of jump, lifted her eyebrows, and stared at
Amabel.

Philip answered. 'That is not worth a thought; but since he and I
are now the only representatives of the two branches of the house of
Morville, it shall not be my fault if the enmity is not forgotten.'

'Buried in oblivion would sound more magnanimous,' said Charles; at
which Amabel laughed so uncontrollably, that she was forced to hide
her head on her little sister's shoulder. Charlotte laughed too, an
imprudent proceeding, as it attracted attention. Her father smiled,
saying, half-reprovingly--'So you are there, inquisitive pussy-cat?' And
at her mother's question,--'Charlotte, what business have you here?' She
stole back to her lessons, looking very small, without the satisfaction
of hearing her mother's compassionate words--'Poor child!'

'How old is he?' asked Mr. Edmonstone, returning to the former subject.

'He is of the same age as Laura--seventeen and a half,' answered Mrs.
Edmonstone. 'Don't you remember my brother saying what a satisfaction
it was to see such a noble baby as she was, after such a poor little
miserable thing as the one at Redclyffe?'

'He is grown into a fine spirited fellow,' said Philip.

'I suppose we must have him here,' said Mr. Edmonstone. Should you not
say so--eh, Philip?'

'Certainly; I should think it very good for him. Indeed, his
grandfather's death has happened at a most favourable time for him. The
poor old man had such a dread of his going wrong that he kept him--'

'I know--as tight as a drum.'

'With strictness that I should think very bad for a boy of his impatient
temper. It would have been a very dangerous experiment to send him at
once among the temptations of Oxford, after such discipline and solitude
as he has been used to.'

'Don't talk of it,' interrupted Mr. Edmonstone, spreading out his hands
in a deprecating manner. 'We must do the best we can with him, for I
have got him on my hands till he is five-and-twenty--his grandfather
has t