men as driver, with Bartolo as guide, and then he went over to your house to tell the Doctor, and not finding him, came on to the rectory, and Mr. Moore told him that he did wrong not to come to him _before_ sending the carriage (but Marcos said Bartolo wouldn't wait), because he himself would have gone out in it after Garda, of course. This was the first _we_ knew, in Gracias, of Mr. Winthrop's being with the dear child, and it _did_ seem so fortunate that if they were to be lost at all, they should happen to be lost _together_. Mr. Moore thought, and so did Marcos Finish, that they would drive directly here, without stopping in Gracias, and so he rode down at once; and I was coming down myself, later, only they did that _sweet_ thing, they stopped after all, and came to _me_. There they were in the drawing-room when I hurried down, Garda laughing, oh, _so_ pretty, the dear! As soon as I knew, I took her in my arms and gave her a true _mother's_ blessing. Oh, Mistress Kirby, how such days as this take us back to our _own_ spring-time, to the first buddings and blossomings of our _own_ dear days of love! I am sure--I am sure," continued Betty, overcome again, and lifting the handkerchief, "that we _cannot_ but remember!" Mrs. Kirby remembered; but not with her lachrymal glands; it was not everybody who was endowed with such copious wells there, suitable for every occasion, as Betty had been endowed with. She nodded her head slowly, and looked at the floor; she had finished the corn-bread, and now sat holding the remaining crumbs carefully in the palm of her hand, while, in a secondary current of thought (the first was occupied with Garda and her story), she wished that Betty had brought a plate. "Do what I can," she said to herself, "some of them _will_ get on the carpet." Garda, escaping from the Doctor, had gone to Margaret's room; she had not much hope of finding her; her not having been present to greet them seemed to indicate that she was with Mrs. Rutherford, and "with Mrs. Rutherford" was a hopeless bar for Garda. But Margaret was there. Garda ran up to her and kissed her. "The only thing I cared about, Margaret, was you--whether _you_ were anxious." "How could I help being anxious?" Margaret answered. "It was the greatest relief when we heard that you had reached Gracias." She was seated, and did not rise; but she took the girl's hand and looked at her. Garda sat down on a footstool, and rested her elbows on Margaret's knee. "You are so pale," she said. "I am afraid we are all rather pale, we haven't been to bed; we were very anxious about you, and then Aunt Katrina has had one of her bad nights."