Then there was much kissing, and shaking of hands, and promising to come again, and away they drove to Hillsborough. On the road Henry, for the first time, was very respectful, as well as kind, to Jael. She was soft and gentle, but rather silent and reserved. They parted at the door of “Woodbine Villa.” Next day, Henry called early, and found Miss Carden alone. His heart beat tumultuously. She was very gracious, and hoped he had spent a pleasant day yesterday. “Pretty well.” “Is that all? Why I quite envied you your ride, and your companion.” “She is a very good girl.” “She is something more than that: but one does not find her out all at once.” Now it was Henry's turn. But he was flustered, and thinking how he should begin. And, while he hesitated, the lady asked him was he come to finish the bust. “No. I didn't come for that. I will finish it though.” And thus he was diverted from his purpose, for the moment. He took a carving tool, and eyed his model, but soon laid down the tool, and said: “I haven't thanked you yet. And I don't know how to thank you.” “What for?” “For what you sent to Mr. Cheetham.” “Oh!” said Grace, and blushed. Then she turned it off, and said she thought if any body ought to thank her for that, it was Mr. Cheetham. “Ay, for the order. But the sweet words that came with it? Do you think I don't prize them above all the orders in the world?” She colored high again. “What! did he show you my note?” “He did: and that has made me his friend. Shall I tell you the effect of those words on me?” “No; never mind. But I'm glad I put them in, if they did you any good.” “Any good? They made me a new man. I was defeated by the Trades: I was broken-hearted: and I hated every body. Good Dr. Amboyne had set me work to do; to save the lives of my fellow-creatures. But I couldn't; I hated them so. The world had been too unjust to me, I could not return it good for evil. My heart was full of rage and bitterness.” “That's a great pity--at your age. But really it is no wonder. Yes; you have been cruelly used.” And the water stood in Grace's eyes. “Ay, but it is all over; those sweet words of yours made a man of me again. They showed me you cared a little for me. Now I have found a way to outwit the Trades. Now I'm on the road to fortune. I won't be a workman this time next year. I'll be a master, and a thriving one.” “Ay, do, do. Beat them, defeat them; make them scream with envy. But I am afraid you are too sanguine.” “No; I can do it, if you will only give me another word of hope to keep me going; and oh, I need it, if you knew all.” Grace began to look uneasy. “Mr. Little, can you doubt that you have my best wishes?” said she, guardedly, and much less warmly than she had spoken just before. “No, I don't doubt that; but what I fear is, that, when I have gained the hard battle, and risen in the world, it will be too late. Too late.” Grace turned more and more uncomfortable.