There now set in at Ashcroft a period trying to the feelings of all concerned. No trace of the lost jewels was discovered. The number of hollow trees in the forest was limited, and so were their hollows, which were searched as thoroughly as was possible, and in vain. One or two old trees had been previously cut down and sawn up; the lost treasure could not be in them. Alwyn began to wish that the jewels had all been disposed of in America, and that this search, the folly of which seemed to throw a sort of doubt on the whole story, had never been undertaken. Lady Carleton was most anxious and eager over the matter, and as the search could hardly be kept quite secret, its cause came to the ears of Florence, who, when she was out with little Lily, spent her time in poking her fingers into the smallest knot or rent in perfectly sound trees, and started a theory that the jewels were probably in some of the jackdaws' nests about the chimneys of Ravenshurst, having been carried there after the manner of the various thimbles, rings, etc, which had been so disposed of in the story books with which she was acquainted. Florence was behaving wonderfully well, and little Lily was very fond of her; and she perhaps owed some popularity with the other servants to the fact that she was the sister of the Henry Whittaker whose name was in every one's mouth. Harry was very anxious to get home again. He took a room at Ashcroft, and visited his family sometimes; but he was often at a loss what to do with himself. The Warrens were very kind to him, and all the heads of departments at the great house took up the cue and showed him civility; Alwyn always treated him with the same friendly consideration, and was often glad of a chat with him on matters familiar to them both. Alwyn had, however, much else to take up his time and thoughts. The neighbourhood accepted him and paid him attentions; which, as it soon became apparent, his father was anxious that he should accept. The Carletons especially came forward in a marked manner, and all this gradually changed and undermined Mr Cunningham's feelings about him. He saw that it was impossible to treat such a son as in disgrace, and perhaps his continued stiffness was more shyness than displeasure. James Cunningham behaved admirably, and invited Alwyn to visit him in London, and he went, though very unwillingly, for all this while poor Edgar was growing more and more dependent on him, and though he eagerly urged the acceptance of his cousin's invitation, he could not conceal his delight when Alwyn came back again. Alwyn was touched beyond measure at the affection that Edgar showed him, and repaid it with the tenderest devotion.