vil moods, while with him it was the vehicle of thought
from a mind habitually serene.

Mrs. Caldwell was being hurried out of the house with indecent haste,
considering the state of her health and all the arrangements she had
to make; but she bore up bravely. She was touched one day by an offer
of help from Beth, and begged her to take charge of Bernadine and be a
little mother to her. Beth promised to do her best. Accordingly, when
Bernadine was naughty, Beth beat her, in dutiful imitation. Bernadine,
however, invariably struck back. When other interests palled, Beth
would encourage Bernadine to risk her neck by persuading her to jump
down after her from high places. She was nearly as good a jumper as
Beth, the great difference being that Beth always lit on her feet,
while Bernadine was apt to come down on her head; but it was this
peculiarity that made her attempts so interesting.

The yard very soon became a sociable centre for the whole idle place.
Any one who chose came into it in a friendly way, and lounged about,
gossiping, and inspecting the works in progress. Women brought their
babies, and sat about on the stones suckling them and talking to the
men--a proceeding which filled Beth with disgust, she thought it so
peculiarly indelicate.

Beth stood with her mother at the sitting-room window one day to see
the last of poor Artless, as he was led away on a halter by a strange
man, his glossy chestnut coat showing dappled in the sunshine, but his
wild spirit much subdued for want of corn. The first time they had
seen him was on the day of their arrival, when Captain Caldwell had
ridden out on him to meet them. Mrs. Caldwell burst into tears at the
recollection.

"He was the first evidence of promotion and prosperity," she said.
"But the promotion has been to a higher sphere, and I much fear that
the prosperity, like Artless himself, has departed for ever."

Mrs. Caldwell had decided to return to her own people in England, and
a few days later they started. She took the children to see their
father's grave the last thing before they left Castletownrock, and
stood beside it for a long time in silence, her gloveless hand resting
caressingly on the cold tombstone, her eyes full of tears, and a
pained expression in her face. It was the real moment of separation
for her. She had to tear herself away from her beloved dead, to leave
him lonely, and to go out alone herself, unprotected, unloved,
uncomforted, into the