"And," continued Galliard, as he opened the door, "though the want of imagination may render the Saxon successful, its presence always makes the Celt beloved." "You are right," said Miss Vernon, as she passed him, with a bow. But pleasant intervals soon come to an end, and the last week of Mr. and Mrs. Winter's intended stay approached. Before it arrived, however, Miss Herman paid Kate a visit, and introduced her to some additional pupils, with whom, however, she agreed not to begin her lessons until after her friends' departure. "I cannot bear to think of losing you," said Kate, one cold, sharp evening, Winter had walked to meet her, on her way back from Brompton. "Do pray put off your departure till after Christmas, I have so dreaded Christmas, alone in London, and you have nothing to hurry you away." "Hum, let me see; I have already delayed a fortnight longer than I intended, another week will not make much difference. Ha, you little witch, I cannot say you nay; but after that not an hour." "Ten thousand, thousand thanks, dear, kind friend; you have made me so happy." "Now we are _tête-à-tête_, tell me how affairs go on; any news of the lawsuit?" "Why yes, grandpapa gets frequent letters from Mr. Moore, who, it seems, is always filing bills, and making motions, very slow ones, I fear, for they never seem to produce any result." Winter groaned. "And yourselves? how is--how is--you know I am a bear--how is the purse?" Marvellously, considering how fast your hundred went; but nurse has got quite into the London ways, and quite saves us a fortune now; and my pupils, and the new ones! Oh, we shall do very well--if--if dear grandpapa only could look like his own old self." "Well, I have thirty pounds of his I must not run away with. Have you Lady Desmond's cheque?" "Yes, quite safe." "Well, be sure you keep it; sickness may come, a thousand things. How is your lady cousin?" "Quite well; always, in her letters, talking of coming home, and never coming." "Just as I expected." "And you are bent on wintering at Pau?" "Yes, and in the spring we intend crossing the Pyrenees; I long to see more of Spain; but, Kate, if you want me really, if, in short, illness should--that is, should the time ever come, you might want a home, Sue and myself look upon you as a daughter, write to me, at once, wherever I may be." "Good God! Mr. Winter, do you think grandpapa so ill? do you anticipate--" "Dear child, no, a thousand times no; but at parting I should like you to feel that it is only distance that can separate us, and that at any, and every time, I shall feel as a father towards you, and a proud father!" "My dear, dear friend! surely God has been very gracious to me; I will not try to thank you in words, they sound so cold!" They walked on in silence, which Winter broke, by exclaiming abruptly. "That letter of nurse's son was most characteristic! There is some good stuff in the writer."