“To the end of turning to profit the talents which God has committed to your keeping; and of which He will surely one day demand a strict account.  Jane, I shall watch you closely and anxiously —­ I warn you of that.  And try to restrain the disproportionate fervour with which you throw yourself into commonplace home pleasures.  Don’t cling so tenaciously to ties of the flesh; save your constancy and ardour for an adequate cause; forbear to waste them on trite transient objects.  Do you hear, Jane?”

“Yes; just as if you were speaking Greek.  I feel I have adequate cause to be happy, and I will be happy.  Goodbye!”

Happy at Moor House I was, and hard I worked; and so did Hannah:  she was charmed to see how jovial I could be amidst the bustle of a house turned topsy-turvy —­ how I could brush, and dust, and clean, and cook.  And really, after a day or two of confusion worse confounded, it was delightful by degrees to invoke order from the chaos ourselves had made.  I had previously taken a journey to S-to purchase some new furniture:  my cousins having given me Carte Blanche to effect what alterations I pleased, and a sum having been set aside for that purpose.  The ordinary sitting-room and bedrooms I left much as they were:  for I knew Diana and Mary would derive more pleasure from seeing again the old homely tables, and chairs, and beds, than from the spectacle of the smartest innovations.  Still some novelty was necessary, to give to their return the piquancy with which I wished it to be invested.  Dark handsome new carpets and curtains, an arrangement of some carefully selected antique ornaments in porcelain and bronze, new coverings, and mirrors, and dressing-cases, for the toilet tables, answered the end:  they looked fresh without being glaring.  A spare parlour and bedroom I refurnished entirely, with old mahogany and crimson upholstery:  I laid canvas on the passage, and carpets on the stairs.  When all was finished, I thought Moor House as complete a model of bright modest snugness within, as it was, at this season, a specimen of wintry waste and desert dreariness without.

The eventful Thursday at length came.  They were expected about dark, and ere dusk fires were lit upstairs and below; the kitchen was in perfect trim; Hannah and I were dressed, and all was in readiness.

St. John arrived first.  I had entreated him to keep quite clear of the house till everything was arranged:  and, indeed, the bare idea of the commotion, at once sordid and trivial, going on within its walls sufficed to scare him to estrangement.  He found me in the kitchen, watching the progress of certain cakes for tea, then baking.  Approaching the hearth, he asked, “If I was at last satisfied with housemaid’s work?” I answered by inviting him to accompany me on a general inspection of the result of my labours.  With some difficulty, I got him to make the tour of the house.  He just looked in at the doors I opened; and when he had wandered upstairs and downstairs, he said I must have gone through a great deal of fatigue and trouble to have effected such considerable changes in so short a time:  but not a syllable did he utter indicating pleasure in the improved aspect of his abode.