This looked as if there was an understanding between Mrs. Franklin and Katy with regard to rooms, while the quantity of baggage which came from the depot in the express wagon looked very much as if the Burleighs had come for good, with no intention of leaving. This was a condition of things of which Mrs. Walter Scott did not approve; but there was something in the gleam of Mrs. Bell’s black eyes which warned her to be careful what she said. She was a little afraid of Bell and so kept quiet until she heard from her own maid that “the old gentleman” was putting his books on the shelves, which, unknown to her, had been conveyed into his room, and was arranging a lot of _stones_, and _snails_, and _birds_. Then she could keep still no longer, but attacked her son with the question: “Are _all_ the Burleighs to live here in future? I did not suppose you married the entire family.” Frank had looked forward to a time when some such question would be propounded to him, and was glad it had come. Once he had been afraid of his mother, and he was still a good deal in awe of her and her opinions, but upstairs was a lady whom he feared more, though she had never spoken to him except in the mildest, softest manner, and he wisely resolved to let his mother know the worst which had befallen her, and told her, as gently as possible, and with the tone of one who was communicating a piece of good news, that the Burleighs were a rather singular family, very strongly attached to each other; yes, _very_ strongly attached, that they never had been separated, and that Bell had accepted him only on condition that they should not be separated, but live together at Millbank as they had done at Boston. There was intense scorn in Mrs. Walter Scott’s eyes, and in her voice, as she said, “And so you have taken upon yourself the maintenance of four instead of one!” “Why, no,—not exactly,—that is,—Judge Burleigh and Charlie, and—yes, and Charlie—”