“It is not to be expected she can like it much; but she is a good little woman—she always was a dear little woman,” said the Rector; “and Mary’s jointure will make a great deal of difference in the manor-house, and smooth things down considerably. She has been doing all kinds of upholstery there already.” “By Jove, I knew how it would be!” said Major Aldborough; “I told you all how it would be. I said they’d kill him. He may think he’s got off very easily, in my opinion—cure him of meddling with other people’s children as long as he lives. What the deuce did he want at Fontanel? a great deal better to make himself snug, as I suppose he means to do now, at Summerhayes.” “Mary will drive down looking just as bright as ever,” said Miss Amelia Harwood. “I always said she deserved to be happy, poor soul—she always makes the best of everything. Her heart was breaking that night of Charley’s birthday. I heard for a certain fact that she fainted just before the ball—a thing I never heard of Mary doing before. Heaven knows what all she was afraid of; there was something very mysterious about that fire; but now, you know, she has recovered her spirits and her colour, and looks just as she used to look. I shouldn’t wonder a bit if she began life over again, and was quite happy in the manor-house now Tom Summerhayes is coming home.” “And so she ought to be, Amelia,” said good Miss Harwood. “I am sure she has many a poor woman’s prayers.” All these good people were walking on the Fontanel road. It was a lovely evening in the early summer, more than a year after Charley Clifford’s birthday. Though it was rather beyond the usual limits of Miss Harwood’s walk, she was here leaning on Miss Amelia’s arm to enjoy the air, and to look for somebody who was expected. The Rector had strolled out on the same errand; and that, or something similar, had also drawn Major Aldborough from his after-dinner repose. The old-fashioned gates of the Manor-house were open, and some expectation was visible within. Miss Laura and Miss Lydia, in very summery muslin dresses, were to be seen promenading before the house, and hastened out, when they saw the Miss Harwoods, to join their friends. “It is very trying for us,” said Miss Laura. “Oh, Miss Harwood, it is a very trying occasion; not that our new house is not very nice and everything very comfortable; but it is very very trying to us,” said Miss Lydia, joining in; “and oh, on dear Tom’s part, such an unexpected change.” “Your brother is expected home to-morrow, Miss Laura?” said the Rector. “Yes, to-morrow,” answered Miss Lydia, whose turn it was. “Poor dear Tom is so fond of travelling on the Continent, it is so good for his health; and Mrs Summerhayes wishes to be at home to receive him. Lydia and I are so glad, and yet we are sorry,” chimed in Miss Laura; “it will be such a change for dear Tom.”