“He must learn to travel,” said Austin.

“Oh!” cried Mrs. Berry, “and I’ll be his nuss, and bear him, a sweet!  Oh! and think of it! me nurse-maid once more at Raynham Abbey! but it’s nurse-woman now, you must say.  Let us be goin’ on the spot.”

She started up and away in hot haste, fearing delay would cool the heaven-sent resolve.  Austin smiled, eying his watch and Lucy alternately.  She was wishing to ask a multitude of questions.  His face reassured her, and saying:  “I will be dressed instantly,” she also left the room.  Talking, bustling, preparing, wrapping up my lord, and looking to their neatnesses, they were nevertheless ready within the time prescribed by Austin, and Mrs. Berry stood humming over the baby.  “He’ll sleep it through,” she said.  “He’s had enough for an alderman, and goes to sleep sound after his dinner, he do, a duck!” Before they departed, Lucy ran up to Lady Feverel.  She returned for, the small one.

“One moment, Mr. Wentworth?”

“Just two,” said Austin.

Master Richard was taken up, and when Lucy came back her eyes were full of tears.

“She thinks she is never to see him again, Mr. Wentworth.”

“She shall,” Austin said simply.

Off they went, and with Austin near her, Lucy forgot to dwell at all upon the great act of courage she was performing.

“I do hope baby will not wake,” was her chief solicitude.

“He!” cries nurse-woman Berry, from the rear, “his little tum-tum’s as tight as he can hold, a pet! a lamb! a bird! a beauty! and ye may take yer oath he never wakes till that’s slack.  He’ve got character of his own, a blessed!”

There are some tremendous citadels that only want to be taken by storm.  The baronet sat alone in his library, sick of resistance, and rejoicing in the pride of no surrender; a terror to his friends and to himself.  Hearing Austin’s name sonorously pronounced by the man of calves, he looked up from his book, and held out his hand.  “Glad to see you, Austin.”  His appearance betokened complete security.  The next minute he found himself escaladed.

It was a cry from Mrs. Berry that told him others were in the room besides Austin.  Lucy stood a little behind the lamp:  Mrs. Berry close to the door.  The door was half open, and passing through it might be seen the petrified figure of a fine man.  The baronet glancing over the lamp rose at Mrs. Berry’s signification of a woman’s personality.  Austin stepped back and led Lucy to him by the hand.  “I have brought Richard’s wife, sir,” he said with a pleased, perfectly uncalculating, countenance, that was disarming.  Very pale and trembling Lucy bowed.  She felt her two hands taken, and heard a kind voice.  Could it be possible it belonged to the dreadful father of her husband?  She lifted her eyes nervously:  her hands were still detained.  The baronet contemplated Richard’s choice.  Had he ever had a rivalry with those pure eyes?  He saw the pain of her position shooting across her brows, and, uttering-gentle inquiries as to her health, placed her in a seat.  Mrs. Berry had already fallen into a chair.