“So no more letters from your dutiful and affectionate son,

“Harry.”

Next day young Little took leave of his friends in Cairnhope, with a promise to come over some Sunday, and see them all.  He borrowed a hooked stick of his devotee, the blacksmith, and walked off with his little bundle over his shoulder, in high health and spirits, and ripe for any thing.

Some successful men are so stout-hearted, their minds seem never to flinch.  Others are elastic; they give way, and appear crushed; but, let the immediate pressure be removed, they fly back again, and their enemy finds he has not gained an inch.  Henry’s was of this sort; and, as he swung along through the clear brisk air, the world seemed his football once more.

This same morning Jael Dence was to go to Cairnhope, at her own request.

She packed her box, and corded it, and brought it down herself, and put it in the passage, and the carrier was to call for it at one.  As for herself, four miles of omnibus, and the other seven on foot, was child’s play to her, whose body was as lusty and active as her heart was tender and clinging.

She came in to the drawing-room, with her bonnet and shawl on, and the tear in her eye, to bid Miss Carden good-bye.  Two male friends would have parted in five minutes; but this pair were a wonderful time separating, and still there was always something to say, that kept Grace detaining, or Jael lingering; and, when she had been going, going, going, for more than half an hour, all of a sudden she cried, out, “Oh!  There he is!” and flushed all over.

“Who?” asked Grace, eagerly.

“The dark young man.  He is at the door now, miss.  And me going away,” she faltered.

“Well then, why go till he has paid his visit?  Sit down.  You needn’t take off your bonnet.”

Miss Carden then settled herself, took up her work, and prepared to receive her preceptor as he deserved, an intention she conveyed to Jael by a glance, just as Henry entered blooming with exercise and the keen air, and looking extremely handsome and happy.

His reception was a chilling bow from Miss Carden, and from Jael a cheek blushing with pleasure at the bare sight of him, but an earnest look of mild reproach.  It seemed cruel of him to stay away so long, and then come just as she was going.

This reception surprised Henry, and disappointed him; however he constrained himself, and said politely, but rather coldly, that some unpleasant circumstances had kept him away; but he hoped now to keep his time better.

“Oh, pray consult your own convenience entirely,” said Miss Carden.  “Come when you have nothing better to do; that is the understanding.”

“I should be always coming, at that rate.”

Grace took no notice.  “Would you like to see how I look with my one eyebrow?” said she.  “Jael, please fetch it.”

While Jael was gone for the bust, Henry took a humbler tone, and in a low voice began to excuse his absence; and I think he would have told the real truth, if he had been encouraged a little; but he was met with a cold and withering assurance that it was a matter of no consequence.  Henry thought this unfair, and, knowing in his own heart it was ungrateful, he rebelled.  He bit his lip, sat down as gloomy as the grave, and resumed his work, silent and sullen.