On the way home they overtook Mr. Drummond, and while he and her father talked, Mary walked by his side meditating with surprise on the events of the morning--the earnest looks of Mr. Franklyn's eldest girl, the evident restraint in the manner of Kate Marston and Dr. Halford, and, above all, the absence of Henry Halford. Suddenly a thought struck her--she knew he had taken his M. A. degree, she had seen his name in the _Times_--was he gone up for ordination, and where? All this was at present unknown to her, and she could only console herself with the recollection that the _Times_ would have every particular about the ordinations whenever they took place, and Henry Halford's name was sure to be mentioned if he were among the candidates. Mary told her mother of the encounter in the churchyard, and the absence of Henry Halford, without any comment. Mrs. Armstrong listened with interest to her description of the children, and especially about the little boy. She thought well of this meeting to a certain extent, but she said not a hopeful word to her daughter. CHAPTER XXIX. CONSCIENCE. "I must rouse myself to attend to business, doctor," said Arthur Franklyn, while at breakfast the morning after meeting Mr. Armstrong in the churchyard. "I may be absent a week or more, can I leave the children with you for that time? I shall feel such perfect comfort in the reflection that they are under your roof, and managed so kindly by Kate." "Of course they can stay, my dear Arthur," said the old gentleman tremulously, "it is a great comfort to me to have dear Fanny's children here. I have only one regret, that is, that her dear mother did not live to see her grandchildren. Clara reminds me greatly of her grandmother;" and he looked fondly at the young girl whose womanly appearance and manners had so startled Mary Armstrong. "Would you like to stay with us a little longer, my child?" continued the old man, laying his hand on Clara's shoulder as she sat in her usual place by his side. "Oh yes, grandpapa, I should indeed, we all should be glad to stay;" and she looked at her sisters and brothers as she spoke. Mabel assented timidly; the gentle little girl was becoming daily more dear to Kate Marston, who at the same time lavished upon her cousin Fanny's youngest child, Albert, the tenderest fondness. Albert seemed to consider himself required in some way to answer Clara's questioning look, so he said-- "Me too, grandpa, me stay with you and Kate." "Papa, am I to go to school in England?" asked James. "Yes, my boy, certainly, and if grandpapa consents you shall stay and be a pupil at Englefield Grange." "Oh, jolly!" said the boy, "it's ever so much better being here than at my school in Melbourne. Oh! I shall be happy, especially when uncle Henry comes home." And so it was settled that during their father's absence his children should remain at Kilburn under their grandfather's roof.