animal about the place.  The old servants were eager to tell her of all that had been done, and all that was to be done; they were glad to see her in good health, and apparently in good spirits.  Many sad reports had reached Cross Hall about their straitened circumstances when in Edinburgh, and about poor Miss Elsie falling into a decline; and to see and hear that all was so well with the sisters was a pleasant thing for all who were attached to them.  After all this had been gone through, and she went into the room which had been hers and Elsie’s for fifteen years, to dress for dinner, the past, the present, and the future all came upon her at once, and she felt as if she could have given the world for the opportunity to give way.  Everything was exactly as she had left it; all the furniture which had been taken to Edinburgh had been brought back and placed as it used to be.

“Can I help you, any way, Miss Jane?” said Susan, the upper housemaid, tapping at the door.

“No, thank you,” said Jane:  then recollecting herself, and hoping that the presence of the girl might help to steady her nerves—­“but stop, do come in for a little, and brush my hair.  I am too tired, I think, to do it; and my head aches a little.”

“Is everything right here?  The master said I was to tell him exactly how things used to be, that ye should see nae change.”

“All is right,” said Jane.  “If Elsie were here I might forget that I ever had left Cross Hall; and I see that our people have no cause to miss us, so that we can go to Australia with lighter hearts.”

But for all this talk about a light heart, the tears would come into Jane’s eyes slowly as she looked out to the familiar scene and heard the well-known voices, and thought that to-morrow she must leave Cross Hall and Scotland and Francis for ever.

Mr. Phillips helped her well to keep up conversation at dinner and during the evening, but after the children had gone to bed and Mrs. Phillips had retired, he thought the cousins might wish to have their quiet talk by themselves, and wished them good-night.

“You have not been in the library yet Jane,” said Francis; “shall we adjourn there?  I have a little, a very little business to talk over with you, and I am going to bid you our real farewell tonight, for I am not going to see you on board ship.  I dare not.”

Jane followed him to the library.  She had not been in it since they had searched through her uncle’s papers, and had read the letters of Madame de Vericourt together.  Francis took from the drawer, which still contained those yellow letters, a paper on which was some writing and figures, and a parcel of bank-notes.

“You recollect that you asked me to store the furniture that you left in your room till you saw fit to claim it.  After Elsie decided on staying at Mrs. Phillips’s, I sent to Peggy’s for what you had there, as I think I wrote to you, and Susan saw that everything was placed just as it used to be.  Was it so?”