Nothing had happened yet to avert the calamity that was impending. Everything, on the contrary, seemed preparing for it--leading up to it--though still Mr. St. John went "into the parish," and still all went on as usual at the rectory. The curate showed no symptom of feeling these last days different from any other; but the girls kept looking forward, and hoping for something, with a hope which gradually fell sick, and grew speechless--and nothing came. One day when Mrs. Ascott called, Cicely had got into that state of exhaustion and strained anxiety when the mind grows desperate. She had been occupied with the children all day, not able to get free of them--Annie having finally departed, and Betsy, being too much displeased at the loss of her sister and subordinate to make any offer of help. The babies had grown more active and more loquacious under the changed _régime_, and this, though it was her own doing, increased poor Cicely's cares. Mab was upstairs preparing for her departure, which was to be a few days before the general breaking up. Altogether when Mrs. Ascott came in, fresh and cool out of her carriage, Cicely was not in the best mood to receive her. She gave the children her work-basket to play with to keep them quiet, and cleared her own brow as best she could, as she stood up and welcomed the great lady. How fresh her toilette was, how unwrinkled her face! a woman altogether at ease, and ready to smile upon everything. She shook hands with Cicely, and took her seat with smiling prettiness. "I have come really on business," she said; "to see if we could be of any use to you, Cicely--in packing or any of your preparations; and to ask if the time is quite fixed? I suppose your papa must have heard from Mr. Mildmay, and that all is settled now?" "All--settled?" said Cicely, faintly. The words, so softly and prettily said, went into the girl's heart like a knife; and yet of course it was no more than she expected--no more. "The appointment, as you would see, is in the paper to-day. I am so sorry your papa is going, my dear; but as he must go, and we cannot help it, at least we have reason to be thankful that we are getting such a good man as Mr. Mildmay. It will be some little compensation to the parish for losing Mr. St. John." "Is it--in the papers?" said Cicely, feeling suddenly hoarse and unable to speak. "You feel it, my poor dear child!--of course you must feel it--and so do we all. There will not be a dry eye in the whole church when Mr. St. John preaches his farewell sermon. To think that he should have been here so long--though it is a little consolation, Mr. Ascott says, that we are getting a thorough gentleman, and so well connected--an admirable man."