r Harson and Rhoneland had reached the end of
their journey, and stood waiting in front of Rhoneland's door, they were
not in sight; and when they did at last appear, it seemed a perfect
eternity before they were within calling distance; and then even longer
before they reached to the door. And although from the pace at which they
had come, it might have been argued that one or the other of them was
laboring under extreme debility or fatigue, yet it was a remarkable fact,
that the looks of neither justified such a conclusion; for Kate appeared
uncommonly lively and buoyant, and Ned seemed as if he only required two
fiddlers and a tambourine to perform his part in an imaginary quadrille in
the street.

'What idlers you are!' exclaimed Harry, as they came up! 'As for you,'
said he, turning to Ned, 'such a loiterer should be trusted to escort no
one unless it were his grandmother or a rheumatic old lady of seventy.'

Ned Somers laughed, as he answered: 'We don't all walk as rapidly as you
do.'

'The more shame for you,' exclaimed Harson. 'Upon my life! I believe I'm
younger than any of you. Look to yourself, my lad, or I may take it into
my head to cut you out of a wife; and if you lose her, you won't require
the snug little legacy which I intend to leave you when I'm under ground.
Come; shake hands with the girl, and bid her good night: you've kept her
in the street long enough. Good night, Jacob--Good night, Kate.'

He took her hand, and whispered, 'Be of good heart; your father is coming
round.'

His mouth was very near her ear; and as he whispered, Ned happened to be
looking at them, and thought that the communication did not stop with the
whisper; and Harson himself looked very wickedly up at him, as much as to
say: 'Do you see that?--you had better have a sharp eye to your
interests!'

Long and earnest was the conversation which ensued between Harson and
Somers on their way home; and nobly did the character of that old man
shine out, as he detailed his future views for his young friend's welfare.

'You need not thank me,' said he, in reply to Ned's warm acknowledgments.
'The best return that I can have will be, to find you always in word and
deed such that I may be proud of you; and hereafter, when I see others
looking up to you, and hear you spoken of as one whose character is above
all reproach, that I may say to myself: 'Thank God, I helped to make him
what he is.' This is all that I want, Ned; and your fut