"My father wishes me to remain here for the present, and he will give facilities for the search in the wood which we wished to make. What are your plans, Harry?" "Well, sir, since things are settled here, I think I ought to go to Rapley." "Can you go to London as well, and give orders for my things to be sent here? I could telegraph, but they are all in confusion. I don't wish to leave my brother to-day. And you know I must not delay in going to Ravenshurst." "Is Mr Edgar better, sir?" asked Wyn timidly. "Not much, I'm afraid, as yet. He must be very quiet for the present." "Is all right, Mr Alwyn?" said Harry, as he followed him out of doors. "As right as may be. My father acknowledges me, and asks me to stay with him. Friendliness and forgiveness are another matter. He read and heard all I had to say, and I believe he thinks your character cleared. Perhaps the sudden meeting was as well for him as any other, but poor Edgar fainted; all plans and scruples had to give way. It has been a terrible shock for him, and he is quite worn out, only wanting to keep me in sight I'll go back to him. I can't think of anything else just now." He turned off with a hasty "Good morning." "He's as grave as his father," said Mrs Warren, "only the master never spoke so gentle. Well, I'd like to have seen Mr Alwyn's merry face again." "When folks have to right themselves after they've gone as wrong as Mr Alwyn and I did," said Harry, "there ain't so much merry-making left in them. Not but what a light heart, thank God, is very persevering. And Mr Alwyn's got a twinkle in him yet. But coming home's bitter hard to him, and everybody ain't as forgiving as you, Cousin Charlotte, nor as comfortable to ask pardon of." CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. TO SET WRONGS RIGHT. The abrupt disappearance of the new nursemaid had naturally caused considerable excitement at Ravenshurst, and Lily's story, when she was asked to repeat what the new girl had said to her, did not throw much light on the subject. It seemed, however, to be clear that the child had really picked up a letter in the forest, and that, on its being shown to Florence, the girl had at once decamped. When Mrs Warren's note came, promising an explanation, Sir Philip Carleton hummed and hawed, but told his wife that, as Cunningham's keeper's wife seemed so respectable a person, she had better hear the explanation. As to taking the girl back, that was another thing altogether. Lady Carleton had no idea what the explanation was to be, and when Mrs Warren appeared at the door of her morning-room with Florence behind, hanging her head, her reception was not encouraging. "I hope, Mrs Warren, that you have some reason to give for your niece's extraordinary conduct. She has behaved in a most unheard-of manner."