That is the true spirit, and I am glad you judged Lucy to be capable of it. Keep your brother up to that, and all may be well!' 'I believe Robert knows it all the time,' said Phoebe. 'He always is right at the bottom; but his feelings get so much tried that he does not know how to bear it! I hope Lucy will be kind to him if they meet in London, for he has been so much harassed that he wants some comfort from her. If she would only be in earnest!' 'Does he go to London, at all events?' 'He has promised to attend to the office in Great Whittington-street for a month, by way of experiment.' 'I'll tell you what, Phoebe,' cried Honora, radiantly, 'you and I will go too! You shall come with me to Woolstone-lane, and Robin shall be with us every day; and we will try and make this silly Lucy into a rational being.' 'Oh! Miss Charlecote, thank you--thank you.' The quiet girl's face and neck were all one crimson glow of delight. 'If you can sleep in a little brown cupboard of a room in the very core of the City's heart.' 'Delightful! I have so wished to see that house. Owen has told me such things about it. Oh, thank you, Miss Charlecote!' 'Have you ever seen anything in London?' 'Never. We hardly ever go with the rest; and if we do, we only walk in the square. What a holiday it will be!' 'We will see everything, and do it justice. I'll get an order for the print-room at the British Museum. I day say Robin never saw it either; and what a treat it will be to take you to the Egyptian Gallery!' cried Honora, excited into looking at the expedition in the light of a party of pleasure, as she saw happiness beaming in the young face opposite. They built up their schemes in the open window, pausing to listen to the nightingales, who, having ceased for two hours, apparently for supper, were now in full song, echoing each other in all the woods of Hiltonbury, casting over it a network of sweet melody. Honora was inclined to regret leaving them in their glory; but Phoebe, with the world before her, was too honest to profess poetry which she did not feel. Nightingales were all very well in their place, but the first real sight of London was more. The lamp came in, and Phoebe held out her hands for something to do, and was instantly provided with a child's frock, while Miss Charlecote read to her one of Fouque's shorter tales by way of supplying the element of chivalrous imagination which was wanting in the Beauchamp system of education.