"Do so, and you will find that you need not go far to learn the habits of birds, and know the difference between a swallow and a swift.--Learn the difference in a village, and you know the difference wherever swallows and swifts skim the air." "Swallows and swifts!--true; but men--" "Are with us all the year round--which is more than we can say of swallows and swifts." "Mr. Dale," said Riccabocca, taking off his hat, with great formality, "if ever again I find myself in a dilemma, I will come to you instead of to Machiavelli." "Ah!" cried the Parson, "if I could but have a calm hour's talk with you on the errors of the Papal relig--" Riccabocca was off like a shot. CHAPTER XXII. The next day, Mr. Dale had a long conversation with Mrs. Fairfield. At first, he found some difficulty in getting over her pride, and inducing her to accept overtures from parents who had so long slighted both Leonard and herself. And it would have been in vain to have put before the good woman the worldly advantages which such overtures implied. But when Mr. Dale said, almost sternly, "Your parents are old, your father infirm; their least wish should be as binding to you as their command," the widow bowed her head and said, "God bless, them, sir, I was very sinful--'Honor your father and mother.' I'm no scollard, but I know the Commandments. Let Lenny go. But he'll soon forget me, and mayhap he'll learn to be ashamed of me." "There I will trust him," said the Parson; and he contrived easily to re-assure and soothe her. It was not till all this was settled that Mr. Dale drew forth an unsealed letter, which Mr. Richard Avenel, taking his hint, had given to him, as from Leonard's grandparents, and said, "This is for you, and it contains an inclosure of some value." "Will you read it, sir? As I said before, I'm no scollard." "But Leonard is, and he will read it to you." When Leonard returned home that evening, Mrs. Fairfield showed him the letter. It ran thus: "DEAR JANE--Mr. Dale will tell you that we wish Leonard to come to us. We are glad to hear you are well. We forward, by Mr. Dale, a bank-note for £50, which comes from Richard, your brother. So no more at present from your affectionate parents, "JOHN AND MARGARET AVENEL." The letter was in a stiff, female scrawl, and Leonard observed that two or three mistakes in spelling had been corrected, either in another pen or in a different hand. "Dear brother Dick, how good in him!" cried the widow. "When I saw there was money, I thought it must be him. How I should like to see Dick again. But I s'pose he's still in Amerikay. Well, well, this will buy clothes for you." "No; you must keep it all, mother, and put it in the Savings' Bank." "I'm not quite so silly as that," cried Mrs. Fairfield with contempt; and she put the fifty pounds into a cracked teapot. "It must not stay there when I'm gone. You may be robbed, mother."