“Good-by, Charley.”

She bit her lips, and wrung her hands; and moaning like some wounded creature lifted her face, and kissed him.

“Good-by.  Fare you well, poor Harry.”

A little purse was in his hand when she took her hand away; a netted silk one that he had watched the making of, and there was the glimmer of gold pieces through it.  With a blush he put it in his pocket, for he was sorely pressed for money; and the small gift was a great one to him.  And it almost broke his heart.  He felt that it was all she could give him,—­a little gold for all the sweet love that had once been his.

His horse was standing ready saddled.  ’Osttler Bill opened the yard-gate, and lifted the lantern above his head, and watched him ride slowly away down the lane.  When he had gone far enough to drown the clatter of the hoofs he put the creature to his mettle, and Bill waved the lantern as a farewell.  Then, as it was still dark, he went back to the stable and lay down to sleep until the day broke, and the servants began to open up the house.

When Harry reached Ambleside it was quite light, and he went to the Salutation Inn, and ordered his breakfast.  He had been a favorite with the landlady all his life long, and she attended to his comfort with many kindly inquiries and many good wishes.  “And what do you think now, Capt.  Sandal?  Here has been a man from Up-Hill with a letter for you.”

“Is he gone?”

“That he is.  He would not wait, even for a bite of good victuals.  He was dryish, though, and I gave him a glass of beer.  Then him and his little Galloway took themselves off, without more words about it.  Here it is, and Mr. Latrigg’s writing on it or I wasn’t christened Hannah Stavely.”

Harry opened it a little anxiously; but his heart lightened as he read,—­

DEAR HARRY,—­If you show the enclosed slip of paper to your old friend Hannah Stavely, she will give you a hundred pounds for it.  That is but a little bit of the kindness in mother’s heart and mine for you.  At Seat-Sandal I will speak up for you always, and I will send you a true word as to how all gets on there.  God bless the squire, and bring you and him together again!

     Your friend and brother,

     STEPHEN LATRIGG.

And so Harry went on his way with a lighter heart.  Indeed, he was not inclined at any time to share sorrow out of which he had escaped.  Every mile which he put between himself and Sandal-Side gave back to him something of his old gay manner.  He began first to excuse himself, then to blame others; and in a few hours he was in very comfortable relations with his own conscience; and this, not because he was deliberately cruel or wicked, but because he was weak, and loved pleasure, and considered that there was no use in being sorry when sorrow was neither a credit to himself, nor a compliment to others.  And so to Italy and to love he sped as fast as money and steam could carry him.  And on the journey he did his very best to put out of his memory the large, lonely, gray “Seat,” with its solemn, mysterious chamber of suffering, and its wraiths and memories and fearful fighting away of death.