Rosa found that her older sisters and Mrs. Danby had gone out for a walk; so it was a very easy matter to get some dry clothes for Bella, and bring her safe home before her mother heard of the accident. What was the surprise of the Misses Fairland, as, in coming down the street, they saw Agnes returning, accompanied by one of the handsome strangers whose acquaintance they had been “dying” to make; while the other followed, carrying little Bella Danby in his arms. A few words sufficed to tell the story of the accident, and to introduce the strangers, who, with the utmost cordiality, were urged to come in; an invitation which was unhesitatingly accepted by Mr. Harrington, and rather reluctantly by Mr. Tom Wharton. Mrs. Danby, pale and agitated, took her little darling in her arms, and hurried to her own room, there to administer certain restoratives, and, much against the young lady’s will, to place her again in bed. Mr. Harrington, having now gained the _entrée_ to Mr. Fairland’s house, seemed inclined to be a frequent visitor, much to the gratification of the ladies Calista and Evelina, who laid siege to him right and left. If my reader possessed the key to Mr. Harrington’s real object in coming to Wilston, perhaps he would be as much amused as the gentleman himself at the efforts, so exceedingly apparent, to gain for one of them possession of his hand and fortune; for that Mr. Harrington was wealthy, they were well assured. They each kept out a _hook_, too, for Mr. Tom Wharton, in case the other was successful in taking the more valuable prey; but the bait was by no means tempting to Mr. Tom, who darted off, leaving his friend, unsupported and alone, to resist the attacks of these practised, but hitherto unsuccessful anglers. “Well, Harrington,” said Mr. Tom Wharton to his friend one day, “since your object in bringing me down here with you is accomplished, I must now leave you to your fate. What that may be, in the midst of attacks from spirits by night, and from more substantial persecutors by day, I cannot divine; but if there is anything left of you, I shall hope to see you in the city before long, and to hear the account you have to give of yourself.” “I thank you for your services thus far, my dear friend,” said Mr. Harrington; “still, I think it would be the part of disinterested friendship to stay and help me a little longer.” “I can’t—I can’t stand it, Harrington. _You_ may be able to bear it better; but I’m not used to this sort of thing, and I don’t know how to get along with it at all. Your case is a hard one, I acknowledge, my friend; but having some business of my own to attend to, I must leave you to fight out your own battles.” And Mr. Tom Wharton, resolutely closed his ears to his friend’s appeals, and took his departure.