Ryder found little Rose, dressed her to perfection, and told her her dear papa was come home. She then worked upon the child's mind in that subtle way known to women, so that Rose went downstairs loaded and primed, though no distinct instructions had been given her. As for Griffith, he walked up and down, uneasy; and wished he had stayed at the "Packhorse." He had not bargained for all these emotions; the peace of mind he had enjoyed for some months seemed trickling away. "Mercy, my dear," said he, to himself, "'twill be a dear penny to me, I doubt." Then he went to the window, and looked at the lawn, and sighed. Then he sat down, and thought of the past. Whilst he sat thus moody, the door opened very softly, and a little cherubic face, with blue eyes and golden hair, peeped in. Griffith started. "Ah!" cried Rose, with a joyful scream: and out flew her little arms, and away she came, half running, half dancing, and was on his knee in a moment, with her arms round his neck. "Papa! papa!" she cried. "Oh, my dear, dear, dear, darling papa!" And she kissed and patted his cheek again and again. Her innocent endearments moved him to tears. "My pretty angel!" he sighed: "my lamb!" "How your heart beats: don't cry, dear papa. Nobody is dead: only we thought you were. I'm so glad you are come home alive. Now we can take off this nasty black: I hate it." "What, 'tis for me you wear it, pretty one?" "Ay. Mamma made us. Poor mamma has been so unhappy. And that reminds me: you are a wicked man, papa. But I love you all one for that. It tis so dull when everybody is good like mamma; and she makes me dreadfully good too; but now you are come back, there will be a little, little, wickedness again, it is to be hoped. Aren't you glad you are not dead, and are come home instead? I am." "I am glad I have seen thee. Come, take my hand, and let us go look at the old place." "Ay. But you must wait till I get on my new hat and feather." "Nay, nay; art pretty enough bareheaded." "Oh, papa! but I must, for decency. You are company now, you know." "Dull company, sweetheart, thou'lt find me." "I don't mean that: I mean, when you were here always, you were only papa; but now you come once in an age, you're COMPANY. I won't budge without 'em; so there, now." "Well, little one, I do submit to thy hat and feather: only be quick or I shall go forth without thee." "If you dare," said Rose, impetuously: "for I won't be half a moment." She ran and extorted from Ryder the new hat and feather, which by rights she was not to have worn until next month. Griffith and his little girl went all over the well-known premises, he sad and moody, she excited and chattering, and nodding her head down, and cocking her eye up every now and then, to get a glimpse of her feather. "And don't you go away again, dear papa. It tis so dull without you. Nobody comes here. Mamma won't let 'em." "Nobody except Father Leonard," said Griffith, bitterly.