“True. It is a happy thing for a man of business, as Henry will find, to have an accomplished wife to lighten and recompense his toil.” This was one of the many thoughts in lord F——’s mind when he sought Letitia to tell her that the negociation was concluded, and that he was to take office immediately. He found her and Thérèse in the music-room, busy with the three little Waldies. The youngest was sitting on the table, clutching aunt Letitia’s curls, while she was explaining to the eldest what Bewick’s old man was doing in the churchyard. The second kneeled on Thérèse’s lap, babbling French, of which she knew about as much as of English. A charming discord of sweet sounds greeted lord F——’s ears as he entered the room. The “Da, da, da,” of the baby; the coqueting in French about a kiss between Thérèse and her charge; and the anxious questions and explanations of the two engaged upon Bewick, made the uncle prefer looking on in silence, till Letitia turned to him with, “It will not do. We must give it up at present. There is no making little children understand about old age, and death, and churchyards.” The child turned her frowning face upon her uncle, as if appealing to him for light. He could not but try. He found she had seen Brixton church, seen something there this very morning; whether a wedding or a funeral, it required some time to find out; and this involved a description of each. Then came the question, “Why are people white when they are married, and black when they are buried?” In the middle of the explanation, she turned to the picture, “Is that little boy with his hoop going to be buried? Is that old man going to be buried?” No: they were neither of them dead yet; but the old man would be before very long, for he was very, very old.... “Then, was he rather new once?” Uncle could no longer keep so grave as the subject required, and besides, did not know how to convey that old and new would not do in all cases so well as old and young. He too gave up. “Shall we ride?” asked Letitia, as lord F—— looked at his watch. “I can send Thérèse home with the children.” “Suppose we take them ourselves. This may be the last morning for some time that I shall be able to devote to you and yours.” “It may be the last time we shall see Maria for some weeks,” replied Letitia. “I am glad you can go.” As soon as they were seated in the carriage, lady F—— explained that Waldie was so much out of spirits, and looked so wretchedly ill, that his wife was bent on getting him from home. She was sure he must have overworked himself at business, and he did not attempt to account for his depression in any other way. “You had better take them down to Weston with you,” said lord F——. “It will be a comfort to you to have your sister with you till I can join you.” “None whatever,” said Letitia, smiling. “While you are a man of business, I will not be a woman of pleasure. I will stay in town till you can introduce Weston and me to each other.”