“I am the worst metaphysician in the world,” said Mrs. Beaumont; “I have not head enough to analyze my heart.” “Nor I neither,” said Miss Hunter: “Heigho!” (very audibly.) “Hark!” cried Mr. Beaumont, “I think I hear a horse galloping. It is he! it is Walsingham!” Out ran Beaumont, full speed, to meet his friend; whilst, with, more sober joy, Mr. Walsingham waited on the steps, where all the company assembled, Mr. Palmer foremost, with a face full of benevolent pleasure; Mrs. Beaumont congratulating every body, but nobody listening to her; luckily for her, all were too heartily occupied with their own feelings to see how ill her countenance suited her words. The sound of the galloping of the horse ceased for a minute--then recommenced; but before it could be settled whether it was coming nearer or going farther away, Mr. Beaumont returned with a note in his hand. “Not Walsingham--only Birch--confound him!” said Mr. Beaumont, out of breath. “Confound him, what a race I took, and how disappointed I was when I saw Birch’s face; and yet it is no fault of his, poor lad!” “But why did not he come up to the house? Why did not you let us see him?” said Mr. Walsingham. “I could not keep him, he was in such a hurry to go home to his father and mother, he would only stop to give this note.” “From Walsingham? Read, quick.” “Plymouth, 5 o’clock, A.M. just landed. “Dear friends, I cannot have the pleasure of seeing you, as I had hoped to do, this day--I am obliged to go to London instantly on business that must not be delayed--Cannot tell when I can be with you--hope in a few days--Well and happy, and ever yours, H. WALSINGHAM.” All stood silent with looks of disappointment, except Mrs. Beaumont, who reiterated, “What a pity! What a sad pity! What a disappointment! What a terrible disappointment!” “Business!” said Mr. Beaumont: “curse his business! he should think of his friends first.” “Most likely his business is for his friends,” said Miss Walsingham. “That’s right, my dear little defender of the absent,” said Mr. Walsingham. “Business!” repeated Mr. Palmer. “Hum! I like business better than pleasure--I will be patient, if it is really business that keeps him away from us.” “Depend upon it,” said Miss Walsingham, “nothing but business can keep him away from us; his pleasure is always at home.” “I am thinking,” said Mr. Palmer, drawing Mr. Walsingham aside, “I am thinking whether he has really brought this Spanish lady home with him, and what will become of her--of--him, I mean. I wish I was not going to Jamaica!” “Then, my dear sir, where is the necessity of your going?” “My health--my health--the physicians say I cannot live in England.” Mr. Walsingham, who had but little faith in physicians, laughed, and exclaimed, “But, my dear sir, when you see so many men alive in England at this instant, why should you believe in the impossibility of your living even in this pestiferous country?”