“Have I not?” she continued, with unusual impetuosity.  “Did I not cause you misery, you, who from the first moment you knew me, loved mo more than I deserved?  Did I not make both of you ill in health and wretched in mind, and yet your kindness now is greater than before?  There is not a wish—­not a desire I express, but is granted on the instant; and I—­oh, I have no power to—­to”—­

“You will, at least, have the power of making me seriously displeased if you speak in this way again, and thus turn my sportive words to gloom,” said Mrs. Hamilton, gravely, but gently drawing the agitated girl with tenderness to her.  “Come, come, Ellen, I will not have Emmeline’s happy Oakwood hour thus alloyed.  You may reward me yet for all, and one day, perhaps, make me your debtor.  That may appear very impossible now,” she added, smiling, as Ellen raised her large eyes incredulously to her face; “but more improbable things have come to pass.”

“And where is Arthur to be while his father is with us?” demanded Emmeline, joyously, of her father.  “Not as a servitor at college, I hope.”

“No; I anticipate the pleasure of welcoming the friend of Herbert as my guest as well as his father, and then we shall deliberate on Arthur’s future life.  I should like much to place him under Mr. Howard for a year, and then establish him in a living of Lord Malvern’s, in which I have little doubt I could succeed.”

“Well, my fancy then will indeed be gratified.  I shall see this proud persecuted youth, and judge for myself if he be deserving or not of my brother’s friendship.  Do you remember him, Ellen?”

“Perfectly well; he was so very kind to me.  I well recollect his grief when I left the village, to live, he said, in such a very different style, that it was not likely we should ever meet again.”

“But yet, you see, improbable as it appeared, you will meet again,” said Mrs. Hamilton in a marked tone, as she smiled.

“So you call this an Oakwood hour, Emmy, do you?” demanded Mr. Hamilton, after Arthur and his father had been duly discussed.  “Suppose we make the resemblance even more complete by ringing for lights, and you and Ellen giving me some music.  I have had no opportunities of hearing your improvement, which, I suppose, under such able professors, has been something extraordinary.”

“Marvellous, most marvellous!” exclaimed Emmeline, laughing, as she flew to obey him by ringing the bell.  “I had begun to fancy I was practising for nothing, and that my father would never do his child the honour of listening to her again, but I remembered the enchanted halls of Oakwood, and I thought there at least I might chain him to my side, and so I continued my labours.”