his set the poor woman all in a flutter for fear she should
have said something injudicious, and there-upon she prepared to find out,
if possible, what she ought to have said.

"What! Mr. Hope!" said Mrs. Easton. "Well, Mary will be glad. And have
you been long home, sir?"

"Came last night," said Hope. "She hasn't been well, I hear. What is the
matter?" And he looked very anxious.

"Well, sir," said Mrs. Easton, very guardedly, "she certainly gave me a
fright when she came here. She looked quite pale; but whether it was
that she wanted a change--but whatever it was, it couldn't be very
serious. You shall judge for yourself. Sister, go to Miss Mary's room,
and tell her."

Mrs. Easton, in giving this instruction, frowned at her sister as much as
to say, "Now don't speak, but go."

When she was gone, the next thing was to find out if the woman had made
any foolish admission to Mr. Hope; so she waited for him.

She had not long to wait.

Hope said: "I hardly expected to see you; your sister said you were
from home."

"Well, sir," said Mrs. Easton, "we were not so far off, but we did come
home a little sooner than we intended, and I am rare glad we did, for
Miss Mary wouldn't have missed you for all the _views_ in the county."

With that she made an excuse, and left him. She found her sister in
Mary's room: they were comparing notes.

"Now," said she to Mrs. Gilbert, "you tell me every word you said to Mr.
Hope about Miss Mary and me."

"Well, I said you were not at home, and that is every word; he didn't
give me time to say any more for questioning of me about her health."

"That's lucky," said Mrs. Easton, dryly. "Thank Heaven, there's no harm
done; he sha'n't see the carriage."

"Dear me, nurse," said Mary, "all this time I'm longing to see him."

"Well, you shall see him, if you won't own to having been a night
from home."

Mary promised, and went eagerly to Mr. Hope. It did not come natural to
her to be afraid of him, and she was impatient for the day to come when
she might tell him the whole story. The reception he gave her was not of
a nature to discourage this feeling; his pale face--for he had been very
ill--flushed at sight of her, his eyes poured affection upon her, and he
held out both hands to her. "This the pale girl they frightened me
about!" said he. "Why, you're like the roses in July."

"That's partly with seeing of you, sir," said Mrs. Easton, quietly
following, "but we do take some cr