"When you where last at home, you said you should not be able to spend Christmas with me, so I am thinking of trying a little jaunt for myself. I am well now and mean to keep so, and a few days in the country air may help me and set me up prime. I inscribe this to let you know, and also to tell you that I shall pay my journey with the quarter's rent you left, so you must send or bring the sum again. Aunt Dyke has got the rumaticks fine, she can't come bothering me with her lectures quite as persistent as usual. Wishing you the compliments of the season, I remain, "Your affectionate wife, "LIZZIE." "Gone into Essex, I suppose; she has talked sometimes of her cousin there," was all the remark made by Bevere. And he set the note alight, and sent it blazing up the chimney. Of course I did not mention Scott's fancy about the red-gold hair. * * * * * Sunday. We crossed the waste land in the morning to the little church I have spoken of. A few cottages stood about it, and a public-house with a big sign, on which was painted a yellow bunch of wheat, and the words The Sheaf o' Corn. It was bitterly cold weather, the wind keen and cutting, the ground a sort of grey-white from a sprinkling of snow that had fallen in the night. I suppose they don't, as a rule, warm these rural churches, from want of means or energy, but I think I never felt a church so cold before. Mr. Brandon said it had given him a chill. In the evening, after tea, we went to church by moonlight. Not all of us this time. Mr. Brandon stayed away to nurse his chill, and Roger on the plea of headache. The snow was beginning to come down smartly. The little church was lighted with candles stuck in tin sconces nailed to the wall, and was dim enough. Lady Bevere whispered to me that the clergyman had a service elsewhere in the afternoon, so could only hold his own in the evening. It was snowing with a vengeance when we came out--large flakes half as big as a shilling, and in places already a foot deep. We made the best of our way home, and were white objects when we got there. "Ah!" remarked Mr. Brandon, "I thought we should have it. Hope the wind will go down a little now." The girls and their mother went upstairs to take off their cloaks. I asked Mr. Brandon where Roger was. He turned round from his warm seat by the fire to answer me. "Roger is outside, enjoying the benefit of the snow-storm. That young man has some extraordinary care upon his conscience, Johnny, unless I am mistaken," he added, his thin voice emphatic, his eyes throwing an inquiry into mine. "Do you fancy he has, sir?" I stammered. At which Mr. Brandon threw a searching look at me, as if he had a mind to tax me with knowing what it was. "Well, you had better tell him to come in, Johnny."