“Is there anything you wish to say to us, Mrs. Hope?” said the lady, kindly; “pray do not be afraid to mention anything in which we can be of service to you. Is your son----” “I thank your ladyship, I was not thinking of him then, but of some one very different. I thought you might like to know, and yet was not sure--but Mr. Edward and his lady came over to the school-house to-day,” said she, as if from a desperate resolution, “and my heart was quite full to see them come and go away again like strangers--just at Christmas time, too!” Poor little Mrs. Hope trembled, for she saw that Sir John’s brow darkened, and he drew back in his chair in an agitated manner; but an encouraging look from the lady re-assured her. “It was very pleasant to see him again,” she continued, “in the little parlour where he often used to sit years ago, and give the prizes out to the children, and speak encouragingly to them. I thought he had forgotten the old place, and all he was so good to; but he told me he had been longing to see it, and never could feel so happy anywhere else.” “Poor Edward!” said the lady, with emotion. “How does he look?” “Very pale and delicate, ma’am; but just the same as ever--just the same noble look,” said Mrs. Hope, fast gathering courage, “although not quite so joyful like as it used to be. He made particular inquiries as to how his father and mother looked, and seemed terribly cast down when I told him how poorly you had both been.” “Did he, indeed!” exclaimed Sir. John, starting from his seat, and pacing up and down; “why did you not let me know he was with you?” “I feared you did not wish to know it,” was the reply. “But oh, Sir John! in my humble way I did think it strange that, in an erring world like this, your heart should be turned from two such children!” Tears were running fast down the face of the good little schoolmistress. She hurried away; but her Magic Words were not spoken in vain. [Illustration: Day & Son, lith^{rs}. to the Queen.] CHAPTER IV. Beautifully dawned the last morning of the old year. How lovely are some few winter sunrisings! A cold, grey sky, and dim, glimmering light, scarcely reveals surrounding objects. Presently a delicate blush appears, gently stealing over the east. It deepens to a ruddy glow; and then bright, golden clouds, tinged with many a varied hue, overspread the sky, lighting up in the strongest relief every leafless tree, even to the most fibre-like branches.