One of the first acts of Grace, after her return, was to enter strictly into the exercise of all those duties and ordinances required by her church, and the present state of her mind, and from the hands of Dr. Ives she received her first communion at the altar.

As the season had now become far advanced, and the fashionable world had been some time assembled in the metropolis, the Baronet commenced his arrangements to take possession of his town-house, after an interval of nineteen years.  John proceeded to the capital first; and the necessary domestics procured, furniture supplied, and other arrangements usual to the appearance of a wealthy family in the world having been completed, he returned with the information that all was ready for their triumphal entrance.

Sir Edward, feeling that a separation for so long a time, and at such an unusual distance, in the very advanced age of Mr. Benfield, would be improper, paid him a visit, with the intention of persuading him to make one of his family for the next four months.  Emily was his companion, and their solicitations were happily crowned with a success they had not anticipated.  Averse to be deprived of Peter’s society, the honest steward was included in the party.

“Nephew,” said Mr. Benfield, beginning to waver in his objections to the undertaking, as the arguments pro and con were produced, “there are instances of gentlemen, not in parliament, going to town in the winter, I know.  You are one yourself; and old Sir John Cowel, who never could get in, although he ran for every city in the kingdom, never missed his winter in Soho.  Yes, yes—­the thing is admissible—­but had I known your wishes before, I would certainly have kept my borough if it were only for the appearance of the thing—­besides,” continued the old man, shaking his head, “his majesty’s ministers require the aid of some more experienced members in these critical times; for what should an old man like me do in Westminster, unless it were to aid his country with his advice?”

“Make his friends happy with his company, dear uncle,” said Emily, taking his hand between both her own, and smiling affectionately on the old gentleman as she spoke.

“Ah!  Emmy dear!” cried Mr. Benfield, looking on her with melancholy pleasure, “you are not to be resisted—­just such another as the sister of my old friend Lord Gosford; she could always coax me out of anything.  I remember now, I heard the earl tell her once he could not afford to buy a pair of diamond ear-rings; and she looked—­only looked—­did not speak!  Emmy!—­that I bought them with intent to present them to Her myself.”

“And did she take them, uncle?” asked his niece, in a little surprise.

“Oh yes!  When I told her if she did not I would throw them into the river, as no one else should wear what had been intended for her; poor soul! how delicate and unwilling she was.  I had to convince her they cost three hundred pounds, before she would listen to it; and then she thought it such a pity to throw away a thing of so much value.  It would have been wicked, you know, Emmy, dear; and she was much opposed to wickedness and sin in any shape.”