aving looked at the various quarterings of arms that the
signboard contained, without the slightest idea that they appertained to
himself, he ordered supper, and looking out of the window of the first
floor, discovered, at no great distance down the one street which
composed the village, the small ale-house where he had before met Mary.
Our hero no longer felt the pride of poverty; he had resented the
treatment he had received at the Hall when friendless, but, now that he
was otherwise, he had overcome the feeling, and had resolved to go up to
the Hall on the following day, and ask for Mary. He was now well
dressed and with all the appearance and manners of a gentleman: and,
moreover, he had been so accustomed to respect from servants, that he
had no idea of being treated otherwise. The next morning, therefore, he
walked up to the Hall, and, knocking at the door, as soon as it was
opened, he told the well-powdered domestics that he wished to speak a
few words to Miss Atherton, if she still lived with Mrs Austin. His
appearance was considered by these gentlemen in waiting as sufficient to
induce them to show him into a parlour, and to send for Mary, who in a
few minutes came down to him, and embraced him tenderly. "I should
hardly have known you, my dear boy," said she, as the tears glistened in
her eyes; "you have grown quite a man. I cannot imagine, as you now
stand before me, that you could have been the little Joey that was
living at Mrs Chopper's."

"We are indebted to that good woman for our prosperity," replied Joey.
"Do you know, Mary, that your money has multiplied so fast that I almost
wish that you would take it away, lest by some accident it should be
lost? I have brought you an account."

"Let me have an account of yourself, my dear brother," replied Mary; "I
have no want of money; I am here well and happy."

"So you must have been, for you look as young and handsome as when I
last saw you, Mary. How is your mistress?"

"She is well, and would, I think, be happy, if it were not for the
strange disease of Mr Austin, who secludes himself entirely, and will
not even go outside of the park gates. He has become more overbearing
and haughty than ever, and several of the servants have quitted within
the last few months."

"I have no wish to meet him, dear Mary, after what passed when I was
here before? I will not put up with insolence from any man, even in his
own house," replied our hero.

"Do not