“Is that Jumbo?” asked Betty.  “I must thank him for all his kind service to my dear sister.”

Faithful Jumbo fairly wept when—­infinite condescension for those days—­Major Delavie shook hands with him and thanked him.

“If pretty Missie Madam were but safe and well, Jumbo would wish no more,” he sobbed out.

“Poor Jumbo,” said Mr. Belamour, “he has never been the same man since pretty Missie Madam has been lost.  I hear his violin mourning for her till it is enough to break one’s heart!”

However Eugene created a diversion by curious inquiries whether Jumbo would indeed play the fiddle of which he had heard from Archer and Amoret, and he ran off most eagerly after the negro to be introduced to the various curiosities of the place.

Mrs. Aylward attended Miss Delavie to her room, and showed herself much softened.  As a good, conscientious woman, she felt that she had acted a selfish part towards the lonely maiden, and Betty’s confident belief that she had been a kind friend was a keen reproach.

“Indeed, madam,” she said, “I would lief you could truly call me such, but when young Miss came here first I took her for one of that flighty sort that it is wise not to meddle with more than needful.  I have kept my place here these thirty years by never making or meddling, and knowing nothing about what don’t concern me, and is out of my province.  Now, I wish I had let the poor young lady be more friendly with me, for maybe I could have been of use to her in her need.

“You had no suspicion?”

“No, ma’am; though I find there were those who suspected some one came up here disguised as Jumbo; but I was never one to lend an ear to gossip, and by that time I trusted the dear young lady altogether, and knew she would never knowingly do aught that was unbecoming her station, or her religion.”

“I am glad the dear child won your good opinion,” said Betty.

“Indeed, ma’am, that you may say,” returned Mrs. Aylward, whom anxiety had made confidential; “for I own I was prejudiced against her from the first, as, if you’ll excuse me, ma’am, all we Bowstead people are apt to be set against whatever comes from my Lady’s side.  However, one must have been made of the nether millstone not to feel the difference she made in the house.  She was the very life of it with her pretty ways, singing and playing with the children, and rousing up the poor gentleman too that had lived just like a mere heathen in a dungeon, and wouldn’t so much as hear a godly word in his despair.  And now he has a minister once a fortnight to read prayers, and is quite another man—­all through that blessed young lady, who has brought him back to light and life.”  And as Betty’s tears flowed at this testimony to her sister, the housekeeper added, “Never you fear, ma’am; she is one of God’s innocents and His Hand will be over her.”

Meantime, having dismissed the young lover to take, if he could, a much needed night’s rest, the Major was listening to Mr. Belamour’s confession.  “I was the most to blame, in as much as an old fool is worse than a young one; and I would that the penalty fell on me alone.”