Laughing merrily, the two Mont Blancs bestowed themselves in the family ark, Nan hopped up beside Patrick, and Solon, roused from his lawful slumbers, morosely trundled them away.  But, looking backward with a last “Good night!” Nan saw her father still standing at the door with smiling countenance, and the moonlight falling like a benediction on his silver hair.

“Betsey shall go up the hill with you, my dear, and here’s a basket of eggs for your father.  Give him my love, and be sure you let me know the next time he is poorly,” Mrs. Lord said, when her guest rose to depart, after an hour of pleasant chat.

But Nan never got the gift; for, to her great dismay, her hostess dropped the basket with a crash, and flew across the room to meet a tall shape pausing in the shadow of the door.  There was no need to ask who the new-comer was; for, even in his mother’s arms, John looked over her shoulder with an eager nod to Nan, who stood among the ruins with never a sign of weariness in her face, nor the memory of a care at her heart,—­for they all went out when John came in.

“Now tell us how and why and when you came.  Take off your coat, my dear!  And here are the old slippers.  Why didn’t you let us know you were coming so soon?  How have you been? and what makes you so late to-night?  Betsey, you needn’t put on your bonnet.  And—­oh, my dear boy, have you been to supper yet?”

Mrs. Lord was a quiet soul, and her flood of questions was purred softly in her son’s ear; for, being a woman, she must talk, and, being a mother, must pet the one delight of her life, and make a little festival when the lord of the manor came home.  A whole drove of fatted calves were metaphorically killed, and a banquet appeared with speed.

John was not one of those romantic heroes who can go through three volumes of hairbreadth escapes without the faintest hint of that blessed institution, dinner; therefore, like “Lady Leatherbridge,” he “partook copiously of everything,” while the two women beamed over each mouthful with an interest that enhanced its flavor, and urged upon him cold meat and cheese, pickles and pie, as if dyspepsia and nightmare were among the lost arts.

Then he opened his budget of news and fed them.

“I was coming next month, according to custom; but Philip fell upon and so tempted me, that I was driven to sacrifice myself to the cause of friendship, and up we came to-night.  He would not let me come here till we had seen your father, Nan; for the poor lad was pining for Laura, and hoped his good behavior for the past year would satisfy his judge and secure his recall.  We had a fine talk with your father; and, upon my life, Phil seemed to have received the gift of tongues, for he made a most eloquent plea, which I’ve stored away for future use, I assure you.  The dear old gentleman was very kind, told Phil he was satisfied with the success of his probation, that he should see Laura when he liked, and, if all went well, should receive his reward in the spring.  It must be a delightful sensation to know you have made a fellow-creature as happy as those words made Phil to-night.”