For a little while neither Philip nor his father spoke. The former thought he saw a change in his father’s countenance, a new light in his eye; the latter was lost in solemn but not unpleasant thought. “Philip!” said he, at last, “ask the butler to call all the servants in for family prayer.” Philip threw one quick and joyful glance, which fell with an ineffable benediction on the father’s heart, and hastened to give the welcome message. Without one prefatory word, the squire read the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah to the amazed and wondering household. Then as they knelt around, he opened the unfamiliar prayer-book, and began to read. The printed form was too strait for him; he broke away on the flood-tide of the new life which had come to him. He pleaded, praised, and prayed, until the most indifferent was melted into tears. After commending them all to the watchful care of Heaven, they rose from their knees, and the two were left alone. Philip could contain himself no longer; he flung himself upon the old man’s neck, and wept with joy. The stars that night looked down upon no holier spot than that stately home in which the Ark of God had found an honoured place. CHAPTER XXXIV. LUCY BLYTH HAS AN EYE ON “LANDED PROPERTY.” “Avaunt all specious pliancy of mind In men of low degree, all smooth pretence! I better like a blunt indifference And self-respecting slowness, disinclined To win me at first sight:--and be there joined Patience and temperance with this high reserve,-- Honour that knows the path and will not swerve; Affections which if put to the proof are kind; And piety towards God.” _Wordsworth._ It will be necessary to retrace our steps a little, and turn our attention to Lucy Blyth and the heir of the House of Waverdale. Lucy’s hasty and unexpected departure from Waverdale Hall and Squire Fuller’s compulsory absence on county business, had prevented that grateful recipient of her services and hearty admirer of her character from rendering her at once the thanks to which she was entitled, and from bestowing on her such reward as was in any sense commensurate with the exceeding value of the good work she had wrought. Eventually he wrote her a letter full of unstinted gratitude, and stated therein that he should count it an honour and a privilege to oblige her in any way that was in his power. He avowed that she had saved his son’s life from the fever, and his own from the burglar; that she had been the means of bringing to him thoughts and feelings concerning religion to which he had long been a stranger; and that, though he felt such services were priceless and beyond compensation, he entreated her to test his sincerity and regard in any way she chose. The answer he received was couched as follows:--