Summer was dying in all her pomp, the woods of Ormsby were arrayed in their mantles of green and gold and crimson and rich brown; the shadows from the old oaks were lengthening on the grass, when the lodge-gates were thrown open to admit the carriage which had been sent to Portsmouth to meet the voyagers from Kafirland. A touch of the old ambitious feeling thrilled through Mrs Daveney's heart, as the elegant equipage swept along the noble aisles of horse-chestnut trees and beeches, through which the mansion, with windows illuminated by the setting sun, showed fair and stately. But Eleanor's face was opposite, revealing its mournful history of past suffering. It had lost its look of anxiety, and something like pleasure shone in the large dark orbs as they caught sight of Marion's home, and her sister and husband, with Marmion between them, in the open doorway, waving their handkerchiefs. Who thought that, instead of an embowered porch, rudely built and thatched with rushes, they now met beneath the stately colonnade of a noble mansion! Oh! those precious meetings, when the sea has long divided us. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The cultivated lands of England! the fields crowded with reapers! the heavily-laden wains--women and youths and children singing along the roads, as if rejoicing in the plentiful harvest; the noble woods, stretching afar, and glowing in the mellow light of autumn!--all contributed to bring repose to Eleanor's soul. She lived a new life-- she seemed to begin a new career in a new world. Here she was indeed at peace--no fearful storms, no savage war-cry, no dread of an enemy stalking in and making desolate the hearth! The space between her and the past seemed suddenly widened. Sir Adrian and Lady Amabel were of the party; there were no strangers-- neighbours there were none within five miles. The events of former years were scarcely ever alluded to; Marion's twins were painfully like their little cousin buried in the African desert; but no one spoke of him. The children lived almost in Eleanor's room. One evening, after she had gone upstairs to dress for dinner, these little creatures detained her till the second bell rang. Her hair was hanging over her dressing-gown, and, finding that she could not possibly be in time, she ran to Marion to say she would join the little circle at tea. "Marion! Marion!"--but Marion had gone. Ormsby's study door was open; there was a light within! She called to him--no answer. The children ran up to her; they threw the door wide open; two wax-lights were burning on the table, and before the fire stood Frankfort. And for the first time for many long years Eleanor uttered a cry of joy. She forgot that she was in her dressing-gown, that her hair hung disordered about her, that the children were half-frightened at the sight of a stranger. Frankfort opened his arms again to her-- "Never again to part, Eleanor," said he.