The letter lay unopened till next day —­ a fact easy to account for, improbable as it may seem; for besides writing as largely as she talked, and less amusingly because more correctly, Mrs. Elton wrote such an indistinct though punctiliously neat hand, that the reading of a letter of hers involved no small amount of labour.  But the sun shining out next morning, Euphra took courage to read it, while drinking her coffee, although she could not expect to make that ceremony more pleasant thereby.  It contained an invitation to visit Mrs. Elton at her house in —–­ Street, Hyde Park, with the assurance that, now that everything was arranged, they had plenty of room for her.  Mrs. Elton was sure she must be lonely at Arnstead; and Mrs. Horton could, no doubt, be trusted —­ and so on.

Had this letter arrived a few weeks earlier, Euphra would have infused into her answer a skilful concoction of delicate contempt; not for the amusement of knowing that Mrs. Elton would never discover a trace of it, but simply for a relief to her own dislike.  Now she would have written a plain letter, containing as brief and as true an excuse as she could find, had it not been, that, inclosed in Mrs. Elton’s note she found another, which ran thus: 

“Dear Euphra, —­ Do come and see us.  I do not like London at all without you.  There are no happy days here like those we had at Arnstead with Mr. Sutherland.  Mrs. Elton and Margaret are very kind to me.  But I wish you would come.  Do, do, do.  Please do.

“Your affectionate cousin,

“Harry Arnold.”

“The dear boy!” said Euphra, with a gush of pure and grateful affection; “I will go and see him.”

Harry had begun to work with his masters, and was doing his best, which was very good.  If his heart was not so much in it as when he was studying with his big brother, he gained a great benefit from the increase of exercise to his will, in the doing of what was less pleasant.  Ever since Hugh had given his faculties a right direction, and aided him by healthful manly sympathy, he had been making up for the period during which childhood had been protracted into boyhood; and now he was making rapid progress.

When Euphra arrived, Harry rushed to the hall to meet her.  She took him in her arms, and burst into tears.  Her tears drew forth his.  He stroked her pale face, and said: 

“Dear Euphra, how ill you look!”

“I shall soon be better now, Harry.”

“I was afraid you did not love me, Euphra; but now I am sure you do.”

“Indeed I do.  I am very sorry for everything that made you think I did not love you.”

“No, no.  It was all my fancy.  Now we shall be very happy.”