And Richard?  Had he got clear off?  Richard was stealing along the road, plunging into the snow by the hedge because it was more sheltered there than in the beaten path, when his umbrella came in contact with another umbrella.  Miss Carlyle had furnished it to him; not to protect his battered hat but to protect his face from being seen by the passers by.  The umbrella he encountered was an aristocratic silk one, with an ivory handle; Dick’s was of democratic cotton, with hardly any handle at all; and the respective owners had been bearing on, heads down and umbrellas out, till they, the umbrellas, met smash, right under a gas lamp.  Aside went the umbrellas, and the antagonists stared at each other.

“How dare you, fellow?  Can’t you see where you are going on?”

Dick thought he should have dropped.  He would have given all the money his pockets held if the friendly earth had but opened and swallowed him in; for he was now peering into the face of his own father.

Uttering an exclamation of dismay, which broke from him involuntarily, Richard sped away with the swiftness of an arrow.  Did Justice Hare recognize the tones?  It cannot be said.  He saw a rough, strange looking man, with bushy, black whiskers, who was evidently scared at the sight of him.  That was nothing; for the justice, being a justice, and a strict one, was regarded with considerable awe in the parish by those of Dick’s apparent caliber.  Nevertheless, he stood still and gazed in the direction until all sound of Richard’s footsteps had died away in the distance.

Tears were streaming down the face of Mrs. Hare.  It was a bright morning after the snowstorm, so bright that the sky was blue, and the sun was shining, but the snow lay deeply upon ground.  Mrs. Hare sat in her chair, enjoying the brightness, and Mr. Carlyle stood near her.  The tears were of joy and of grief mingled—­of grief at hearing that she should at last have to part with Barbara, of joy that she was going to one so entirely worthy of her as Mr. Carlyle.

“Archibald, she has had a happy home here; you will render yours as much so?”

“To the very utmost of my power.”

“You will be ever kind to her, and cherish her?”

“With my whole strength and heart.  Dear Mrs. Hare; I thought you knew me too well to doubt me.”

“Doubt you!  I do not doubt you, I trust you implicitly, Archibald.  Had the whole world laid themselves at Barbara’s feet, I should have prayed that she might choose you.”

A small smile flitted over Mr. Carlyle’s lips. He knew it was what Barbara would have done.

“But, Archibald, what about Cornelia?” returned Mrs. Hare.  “I would not for a moment interfere in your affairs, or in the arrangements you and Barbara may agree upon, but I cannot help thinking that married people are better alone.”

“Cornelia will quit East Lynne,” said Mr. Carlyle.  “I have not spoken to her yet, but I shall do so now.  I have long made my mind up that if ever I did marry again, I and my wife would live alone.  It is said she interfered too much with my former wife.  Had I suspected it, Cornelia should not have remained in the house a day.  Rest assured that Barbara shall not be an object to the chance.”