‘Dear Jemmy,’ said she, taking his arm as they went home in the evening, ’did not that psalm seem meant for us?—­’If riches increase, set not your heart upon them.’’

James had been thinking it meant for some one; but, as he said, ‘certainly not for you, dear granny.’

’Ah! snares of wealth were set far enough from me for a time!  I never felt so covetous as when there was a report that there was to be an opposition school.  But now your dear uncle is bringing prosperity back, I must take care not to set my heart even on what he has gained for me.’

‘I defy riches to hurt you,’ said James, smiling.

‘Ah!  Jemmy, you didn’t know me as a county grandee,’ she said, with a bright sad look, ’when your poor grandpapa used to dress me up.  I’m an old woman now, past vanities, but I never could sit as loose to them as your own dear wife does.  I never tried.  Well, it will be changed enough; but I shall be glad to see poor old Cheveleigh.  It does me good to hear poor Oliver call it home.  If only we had your dear father!’

‘To me Dynevor Terrace is home,’ said James.

‘A happy home it has been,’ said the old lady.

‘’Goodness and mercy have followed me all the days of my life!’ And now, Oliver, whom I never thought to see again—­oh! what can I do to be thankful enough!  I knew what he was doing!  I knew he was not what you all thought him!  And roughing it has been no harm to you or Clara, and it is all over now!  And the dear old place comes back to the old name.  Oh, James, I can sometimes hardly contain myself—­that my poor boy has done it, and all for me, and his brother’s children!’

James could scarcely find it in his heart to say a single word to damp her joy, and all his resolution enabled him to do was to say gently, ’You know, dear granny, we must not forget that I am a clergyman.’

’I know.  I have been telling your uncle so; but we can do something.  You might take the curacy, and do a great deal of good.  There used to be wild places sadly neglected in my time.  I hope that, since it has been given back to us, we may feel it more as a stewardship than I did when it was mine.’

James sighed, and looked softened and thoughtful.

‘Your uncle means to purchase an annuity for Jane,’ she added; ’and if we could only think what to do for the Faithfulls!  I wonder whether they would come and stay with us.  At least they can never vex themselves again at not paying rent!’

After a pause—­’Jem, my dear, could you manage to give your uncle the true account of your marriage?  He admires Isabel very much, I can tell you, and is pleased at the connexion.  But I fancy, though he will not say so, that Mr. Ponsonby has desired him to find out all he can about Louis; and unluckily they have persuaded themselves that poor Louis courted Isabel, supposing that she was to have Beauchastel, and, finding his error, betook himself to Mary.’