Still she could think of the departed with the softened and resigned feelings which religion and time never fail to produce. But that which fell most heavily on her heart and darkened her declining years, was, that the last and only surviving one--the boy whom she had loved best--whom she had watched over with such intense fear and anxiety--was still a stranger from his father’s home. Month after month passed, and still both, in their pride, hung back from any attempt at a reconciliation. She felt that many more might not elapse before she would be far beyond the reach of mediation, and with a mother’s and a wife’s love she longed to see them united again ere she departed. Presently she walked to the window, and laid her thin white hand on the arm of her husband. “I see you still love to watch the rooks going to rest in the old elm-trees.” “Yes,” said Sir John, hastily; “it is amusing to watch their odd flights, and to imagine you can distinguish the croak of a particular bird.” He would not say that it was Edward’s favourite pastime when a boy, but his companion knew well that he _thought_ of the time when both used to stand there together. “But who is this coming up the avenue?” he said at length, as if willing to shake off the chain of thought. “Mrs. Hope, I fancy, by her black dress. I suppose she is come to tell us all about the dinner, as she promised.” No door ever opened on a better, or kinder, or more zealous village schoolmistress, than did this stately one on the spare, timid little body who now advanced. No one ever looked more placidly happy, and no one more pleased and grateful, when she was kindly placed in the most comfortable of chairs by Sir John, and welcomed with a cordial smile by his lady. “I came up to tell you, sir, that everything was done as you desired. The children were _so_ happy, it quite did one’s heart good to see them. They all came in the morning with evergreens and holly, and we made some beautiful wreaths to set off the room. Their new dresses look very nice, and they are truly thankful to you for your kindness. The coals and blankets, and other things, are all sent home too, and many say they shall thank Sir John for a happy Christmas; which they wish in return, with all their hearts, I am sure,” continued the good little woman, with emotion; “for, thank God, _very_ few among them are ungrateful.” Sir John’s benevolent countenance brightened with pleasure as he listened to the kind schoolmistress’s further recital of the village festivities, to which he had contributed so largely; and his wife marvelled how the heart of so good a man could be so unrelenting as she knew it was. Perhaps similar thoughts were passing in the mind of Mrs. Hope; for after she had told all she ostensibly had to tell, and felt that it was time for her to depart, she still lingered, and yet hesitated to speak.