We had it all over again in a somewhat grotesque form when, at another turn in the wood, we came upon Martyn and Anne, loaded with treasures from their robbers’ cave, some of which were bestowed in my chair, the others carried off between Anne and her not very willing nursery-maid. Anne kissed us all round, and augured cheerfully that she should lay up a store of shells and rocks by the seaside to make ‘a perfect Robinson Crusoe cavern,’ she said, ‘and then Clarence can come and be the Spaniards and the savages. But that won’t be till next summer,’ she added, shaking her head. ‘I shall get Ellen to tell Emily what shells I find, and then she can tell Martyn; for mamma says girls never write to boys unless they are their brothers! And now Martyn will never be my brother,’ she added ruefully. ‘You will always be our darling,’ I said. ‘That’s not the same as your sister,’ she answered. However, amid auguries of the combination of robbers and Robinson Crusoe, the parting was effected, and Anne borne off by the maid; while we had Martyn on our hands, stamping about and declaring that it was very hard that because Griff chose to be a faithless, inconstant ruffian, all his pleasure and comfort in life should be stopped! He said such outrageous things that, between scolding him and laughing at him, Emily had been somewhat cheered by the time we reached the house. My father had written to Griffith, in his first displeasure, curt wishes that he might not have reason to repent of the step he had taken, though he had not gone the right way to obtain a blessing. As it was not suitable that a man should be totally dependent on his wife, his allowance should be continued; but under present circumstances he must perceive that he and Lady Peacock could not be received at Chantry House. We were shown the letter, and thought it terribly brief and cold; but my mother said it would be weak to offer forgiveness that was not sought, and my father was specially exasperated at the absence of all contrition as to the treatment of Ellen. All Griff had vouchsafed on that head was—the rupture had been the Fordyces’ doing; he was not bound. As to intercourse with him, Clarence and I might act as we saw fit. ‘Only,’ said my father, as Clarence was leaving home, ‘I trust you not to get yourself involved in this set.’ Clarence gave a queer smile, ‘They would not take me as a gift, papa.’ And as my father turned from the hall door, he laid his hand on his wife’s arm, and said, ‘Who would have told us what that young fellow would be to us.’ She sighed, and said, ‘He is not twenty-three; he has plenty of money, and is very fond of Griff.’ CHAPTER XXXIII. THE RIVER’S BANK. ‘And my friend rose up in the shadows, And turned to me, “Be of good cheer,” I said faintly, For He called thee.’ B. M.