should thank God for His great goodness.  What greater honour could he bestow upon her?  Next day she took the train to Brighton, and went to confession; and that very same evening she pleadingly suggested to Mr Hare that he should go to Stanton College, and endeavour to persuade John to return home.  The parson was of course obliged to decline.  He advised her to leave the matter in the hands of God, and Mrs Norton went to bed a prey to scruples of conscience of all kinds.

She even began to think it wrong to remain any longer in an essentially Protestant atmosphere.  But to return to Thornby Place alone was impossible, and she begged for Kitty.  The parson was loth to part with his daughter, but he felt there was much suffering beneath the calm exterior that Mrs Norton preserved.  He could refuse her nothing, and he let Kitty go.

“There is no reason why you should not come and dine with us every day; but I shall not let you have her back for the next two months.”

“What day will you come and see us, father dear?” said Kitty, leaning out of the carriage window.

“On Thursday,” cried the parson.

“Very well, we shall expect you,” replied Mrs Norton; and with a sigh she sank back on the cushions, and fell to thinking of her son.

At Thornby Place everything was soon discovered to be in a sad state of neglect.  There was much work to be done in the greenhouse, the azaleas were being devoured by insects, and the leaves required a thorough washing.  It was easy to see that the cats had not been regularly fed, and one of the tame rooks had flown away.  Remedying these disasters, Mrs Norton and Kitty hurried to and fro.  There was a ball at Steyning, and Mrs Norton consented to do the chaperon for once; and the girl’s dress was a subject of gossip for a month—­for a fortnight an absorbing occupation.  Most of the people who had been at the hunt breakfast were at the ball, and Kitty had plenty of partners.  These suggested husbands to Mrs Norton, and she questioned Kitty; but she did not seem to have thought of the ball except in the light of a toy which she had been allowed to play with one evening.  The young men she had met there had apparently interested her no more than if they had been girls, and she regretted John only because of Mrs Norton.  Every morning she ran to see if there was a letter, so that it might be she who brought the good news.  But no letter came.  Since Christmas John had written two short notes, and now they were well on in April.  But one morning as she stood watching the springtide, Kitty saw him walking up the drive; the sky was growing bright with blue, and the beds were catching flower beneath the evergreen oaks.  She ran to Mrs Norton, who was attending to the canaries in the bow-window.

“Look, look, Mrs Norton, John is coming up the drive; it is he; look!”

“John!” said Mrs Norton, seeking for her glasses nervously; “yes, so it is; let’s run and meet him.  But no; let’s take him rather coolly.  I believe half his eccentricity is only put on because he wishes to astonish us.  We won’t ask him any questions; we’ll just wait and let him tell his own story....”