The brother and sister, so lately joined, so soon to be parted, had a long and sorrowful talk together. At length Evelyn said, “Darling, I must leave you, and go down to our father. It was only after a dreadful scene, and with the utmost difficulty, that I got him to consent to my seeing you at all. Mr. Elthorne wanted to visit you, but our father would not hear of it, so he has sent his love and blessing by me, and he charged me to say he _trusts_ you now and ever. Wilfred, we must bid each other farewell. I feel you will be righted sooner or later, and in that case our father will no doubt send to you through the lawyers. Meanwhile, trust in God, and remember that the heart of your sister will ever cling to you with the fondest love. Here is a tiny parting gift; take it with you, and open it when you are on your way to that great, dreadful London. You know our father has willed that we are not to write to one another; it is hard, but we must obey, and we can remember each other in our prayers. Now kiss me, dear, and say good-bye.” The brother and sister fell into each other’s arms, and after that long, last, loving embrace, Wilfred found himself alone. Before his sister’s visit, the cruel sense of injustice, which ere now has made demons of good men, had well-nigh crushed his highly-strung, chivalrous nature and refined spirit; he could not think of the future, he could only _bear_. Now, however, he remembered his friend Ribblesdale’s words, in connection with those of his sister and with the message sent him by Mr. Elthorne, and he felt a well-spring of hope in his stricken heart. Now, once more, he could think, he could plan, he could determine; and when Pinfold brought his supper up to his room, he could, what seemed impossible before, make a tolerable meal. So great is the buoyancy of youth, so great the power of human sympathy. “So you be going to Lun’on, Master Wilfred?” said Pinfold, when he came to take away; “I suppose I must put up your dress things as usual?” “No, Pinfold, no dress things for me,” answered the young man; “I suppose I shall never want dress things again. Put me up as few things as possible, and the strongest boots and clothes you can find. Pinfold, I am going away from home in disgrace, and I want to thank you for all the kindness you have ever showed me. Don’t let the poor people think worse of me than they can help, Pinfold.” So saying, Wilfred put his hand in that of the faithful old servant, and when he withdrew it, a tear had fallen upon it. There was comfort, he felt, even in that. But the poor lad was destined to have yet another visitor. Before Pinfold could shut the door, a scuffling sound was heard in the passage, and Floss, his beautiful dog Floss, bounded into the room, and, leaping up against his young master, whined with delight as he licked his hands.