Breakfast, on these mornings, was always a longer meal than usual. There was no necessity to hurry over it, in order to hasten to the various occupations of every-day life. It was taken leisurely, amidst much pleasant, social converse. As they were assembling for breakfast on this morning, Arthur came in. It was so unusual for them to leave the house early on a Sunday, that Mr. Channing looked at him with surprise. “I have been to see Jenkins, sir,” he explained. “In coming home last night, I met Mr. Hurst, who told me he feared Jenkins was getting worse. I would not go to see him then; it might have been late to disturb him, so I have been now.” “And how is he?” inquired Mr. Channing. “A great deal better,” replied Arthur. “So much better that Mr. Hurst says he may come to the office to-morrow should there be no relapse. He enjoins strict quiet for to-day. And Mrs. Jenkins is determined that he shall have quiet; therefore I am sure, he will,” Arthur added, laughing. “She says he appeared ill last night only from the number of visitors he had seen. They were coming in all day long; and on Friday besides.” “Why should people flock to see Jenkins?” exclaimed Tom. “He is nobody.” “That is just what Mrs. Jenkins said this morning,” returned Arthur. “I believe they go out of curiosity to hear the truth of the locking-up in the cloisters. The bishop’s having been one of the sufferers has aroused the interest of Helstonleigh.” “I am very glad that Jenkins is better,” observed Mr. Channing. “So am I,” emphatically answered Arthur. He was pretty sure Tom had had no share in the exploit; but he did not know about Charley. “The dean preaches to-day,” suddenly called out Tom. “How do you know?” demanded Annabel. “Because I do,” oracularly spoke Tom. “Will you condescend to inform me how you know it, Tom, if you will not inform Annabel?” asked Mr. Channing. Tom laughed. “The dean began his close residence yesterday, papa. Therefore we know he will preach to-day.” Mr. Channing sighed. He was debarred from attending the services, and he felt the deprivation keenly when he found that any particularly eminent man was to fill the cathedral pulpit. The dean of Helstonleigh was an admirable preacher. “Oh!” exclaimed Mr. Channing, in the uncontrollable impulse of the moment, “if I could only regain health and strength!” “It will come, James; God willing,” said Mrs. Channing, looking up hopefully from the cups she was filling. “What I have heard of Dr. Lamb’s restoration has put new confidence into me.” “I think Mr. Yorke intends to bring Dr. Lamb to see you this afternoon, papa,” said Constance. “I shall be glad to see him; I shall be glad to hear the particulars of his case and its cure,” exclaimed Mr. Channing, with all conscious eagerness. “Did Mr. Yorke tell you he should bring him to-day, Constance?” “Yes, papa. Dr. Lamb intends to be at the cathedral for afternoon service, and Mr. Yorke said he would bring him here afterwards.”