after an exceptionally boisterous gale, she would appear with a cluster of acorns or a branch of leaves in her bosom or amongst her hair, and she was more careful of these adornments and more proud of them than if they had been gold and precious stones. 'They are my friend's gift,' she would answer to inquirers; 'and the token of his confidence and favour.' But this fantastic behaviour was, for the most part, confined to her hours of actual association with the Oak; at such times as she was within doors, her bearing was gentle and undemonstrative, her look passive and vacant, and she spoke but little, and that feebly and vaguely. She was less observant as a rule, of sights than of sounds; she always seemed to recognise the voice of Philip, and to be aware of the bond that united him to her; and she was fond of walking about with his hand clasped in hers, or with her arm resting upon his shoulder, when he had grown bigger. She was never weary of listening to his childish and boyish talk, and he, for his part, was never more pleased with himself and with things in general than when he was pouring out to her the riches of his small mind--appealing to her at the end of every sentence or two for sympathy or approval, which she never failed to accord with a smile, or a movement of the head or hand, or a murmured word. And sometimes--but this very rarely--she would in turn talk to him, in a low cadenced voice, as if chanting blank verse, and with a delivery free alike from emphasis and from hesitation. Whether or not any wisdom were contained in these monologues, Philip only could tell; and he used to declare that they were replete with everything that was most sapient and profound. He never, in fact, gave in to the belief that his mother was in any respect deficient in mental effectiveness; on the contrary he held her to be an altogether superior being, and argued that she appeared 'queer' to ordinary people only because the latter were too far below her in the intellectual scale to be able to appreciate her illustration. He was proud of her preference; and she yielded him every indulgence he could desire, save one:--she never permitted him to climb the Oak and share her mysterious vigils amidst the branches. 'No,' she would answer, smiling, to his entreaties, 'no, dear, no--no. He is our friend, but it is to me he speaks; you must hear him only through me. Be content--be content! by-and-by you shall know all.' 'But when will by-and-by come, mother?' 'When the great change comes, and the seal is broken, and the prophecy is fulfilled, and the sibyl and her counsellor have vanished. There is time; do not seek to hasten the steps of fate. Love will lead the way, and pass through the valley of tribulation, and honour and wealth shall wait for him beyond. You are but a boy yet! be content! by-and-by you shall know all.' 'But I don't want you to vanish, mother, or your counsellor either. Why should you vanish, and where are you going to vanish to?'