'I did not come to make you sad, Aunt Kitty,' he replied, smiling; 'no; I get some energy back when I remember that this may be a probation. Her mother would not have thought me man enough, and that is what I have to work for. Whether this end well or not, she is the leading star of my life.' And, with the renewal of spirit with which he had spoken, he pressed his aunt's hand, and ran down stairs. When he rode to Northwold, the following afternoon, having spent the morning in walking over his fields, he overtook a most comfortable couple--James and Isabel, returning from their holiday stroll, and Louis, leaving his horse at the inn, and joining them, began to hear all their school affairs. James had thrown his whole heart into his work, had been making various reforms, introducing new studies, making a point of religious instruction, and meditating on a course of lectures on history, to be given in the evenings, the attendance to be voluntary, but a prize held out for proficiency. Louis took up the subject eagerly, and Isabel entered into the discussion with all her soul, and the grammar-school did indeed seem to be in a way to become something very superior in tone to anything Northwold had formerly seen, engrossing as it did all the powers of a man of such ability, in the full vigour of youth. Talking earnestly, the trio had reached the Terrace, and James was unlatching the iron gate, when he interrupted himself in the midst of detailing his views on modern languages to say, 'No, I have nothing for you.' 'Sir, I beg your pardon!' was the quick reply from a withered, small, but not ill-dressed old man, 'I only asked--' 'Let the lady pass,' said James, peremptorily, wishing to save his wife from annoyance, 'it is of no use, I never look at petitions.' 'Surely he is not a beggar!' said Isabel, as he drew her on. 'You may be easy about him, my dear,' said James. 'He has laid hold of Louis, who would swallow the whole Spanish legion of impostors. He will be after us directly with a piteous story.' Louis was after him, with a face more than half arch fun--'Jem, Jem, it is your uncle!' 'Nonsense! How can you be so taken in! Don't go and disappoint granny--I'll settle him.' 'Take care, Jem--it is Oliver, and no mistake! Why, he is as like you as Pendragon blood can make him! Go and beg his pardon.' James hastened down stairs, as Louis bounded up--sought Mrs. Frost in the sitting-rooms, and, without ceremony, rushed up and knocked at the bed-room door. Jane opened it. 'He is come!' cried Louis--'Oliver is come.' Old Jane gave a shriek, and ran back wildly, clapping her hands. Her mistress started forward--'Come!--where?' 'Here!--in the hall with Jem.'