Mr Brandon rode until nearly dark, for it took a good while to free his mind from the effects of the excitements and torments of that day.  But, when he entered the house and took his seat in his library chair by the fire, he had almost regained his usual composed and well satisfied frame of mind.

Then, through the quietly opened door, came Mrs Keswick, and stealthily stepping towards him in the fitful light of the blazing logs, she put her hand on his arm and said:  “Dear Robert, how glad I am to see you back!”

The next morning, about ten o’clock, Mrs Keswick sent her eighteenth or twentieth message to Mr Brandon, who had shut himself up in his room since a little before supper-time on the previous evening.  The message was sent by Peggy, and she was instructed to shout it outside of her master’s door until he took notice of it.  Its purport was that it was necessary that Mrs Keswick should go home to-day, and that her horse was harnessed and she was now ready to go, but that she could not think of leaving until she had seen Mr Brandon again.  She would therefore wait until he was ready to come down.

Mr Brandon looked out of the window and saw the spring-wagon at the outside of the broad stile, with Plez standing at the sorrel’s head.  He remembered that the venerable demon had said, at the first, that she intended to stay but one night, and he could but believe that she was now really going.  Knowing her as he did, however, he was very well aware that if she had said she would not leave until she had seen him, she would stay in his house for a year, unless he sooner went down to her; therefore he opened his door, and slowly and feebly descended the stairs.

“My dear, dear Robert!” exclaimed Mrs Keswick, totally regardless of the fact that Peggy was standing at the front door with her valise in her hand, and that there was another servant in the hall, “how pale, and haggard, and worn you look!  You must be quite unwell, and I don’t know but that I ought to stay here and take care of you.”

At these words a look of agony passed over the old man’s face, but he said nothing.

“But I am afraid I cannot stay any longer this time,” continued the Widow Keswick, “for my niece would not know what had become of me, and there are things at home that I must attend to; but I will come again.  Don’t think I intend to desert you, dear Robert.  You shall see me soon again.  But while I am gone,” she said, turning to the two servants, “I want you maids to take good care of your master.  You must do it for his sake, for he has always been kind to you, but I also want you to do it for my sake.  Don’t you forget that.  And now, dear Robert, good-bye.”  As she spoke, she extended her hand towards the old gentleman.

Without a word, but with a good deal of apparent reluctance, he took the long, bony hand in his, and probably, would have instantly dropped it again, had not Mrs Keswick given him a most hearty clutch, and a vigorous and long-continued shake.