What was perhaps more agreeable to her, as it is to all vain women--and Charlotte St. John was one of them--was the look of honest admiration that shone out of Isaac's face and manner. She presented a picture deeply interesting--in her young widowhood, in her beauty, in her manner so quiet and subdued. She burst into tears as they talked of her husband, of Benja; and she told Mr. St. John that if he removed Benja from her it would break her heart. It was only a figure of speech. And it is very probable that the fact of two thousand a-year of her income being in peril, may have swayed her to earnestness more than any other feeling. Mr. St. John took it all for loving earnestness, and assured her he thought no cause would ever be likely to arise for his removing Benja. In point of fact, Isaac St. John was most warmly impressed in her favour; it was almost as if she had fascinated him. "Will you answer me a question?" asked Mrs. St. John. "I cannot get it solved by any one else. Why did my husband leave this power in your hands? Did he doubt me?" "I do not know why he left it," was the answer of Mr. St. John: "unless he thought that you might be too kind to the boy--might indulge him to his detriment. I remember, too, his saying that you were not very strong, and the charge of the two children might be a tax upon you." She did not answer. She began to speak of more general things, and Isaac St. John sat talking with her for some time. She expressed her regret that Benja should happen to be at the fair, and laughed when Mr. St. John spoke of the noise that had assailed his ears from the drums. She pressed him to take up his quarters at the Hall until the morrow, but this he declined; he was only an invalid at best, he said. He had engaged rooms at the Bell for himself and his servant, and he invited Benja to come and breakfast with him on the following morning. Mrs. St. John readily assented to the invitation. "You will allow his nurse to attend him," he said to her, as he rose to leave. "I should like to see and converse with the attendant of my little ward, and offer her a gratuity as an earnest of my favour." As readily as the other request was this acceded to, and Mr. St. John departed, taking final leave of his cousin's widow--for he intended to leave Alnwick soon after breakfast the following morning. The fly had conveyed him almost through the park on his return to the Bell, when he saw two women-servants, in charge of two children. Rightly guessing who they were, he stopped the fly, opened the door, and talked to them from his seat.