Never were Mr. Jekyl's peculiar abilities more in request; for the moment was an awkward and embarrassing one for all, and none, save himself, were able to relieve its seriousness. Even Nelly smiled at the witty sallies and playful conceits of this clever talker, and felt almost grateful to him for the momentary distraction he afforded her from gloomier thoughts. With such success did he exert himself, that all the graver sentiments of the occasion were swallowed up in the pleasant current of his small-talk, and no time given for a thought of that parting which was but a few minutes distant. Sir Stafford and Mr. Dalton were not sorry to discover the party in this pleasant humor, and readily chimed in with the gayety around them. The bugle of the postilions at length announced that “time was up,” and the half-hour, which German politeness accords to leave-taking, expired. A dead silence succeeded the sound, and, as if moved by the same instinctive feeling, the two sisters arose and withdrew into a window. Close locked in each other's arms, neither could speak. Kate's thick sobs came fast and full, and her heart beat against her sister's side as though it were bursting. As for Nelly, all that she had meant to say, the many things she had kept for the last moment, were forgotten, and she could but press the wet cheek to her own, and murmur a tremulous blessing. “Oh, if I could but remain with you, Nelly dearest,” sobbed Kate; “I feel even already my isolation. Is it too late, sister dear, is it too late to go back?” “Not if this be not a sudden impulse of sorrow for parting, Kate; not if you think you would be happier here.” “But papa! how will he--what will he--” She had not time for more, when her father joined them. A certain flurry of his manner showed that he was excited by talking and wine together. There was that in the expression of his features, too, that betokened a mind ill at ease with itself a restless alternating between two courses. “'Tis you are the lucky girl, Kate,” said he, drawing his arm around her, and pressing her to him. “This day's good luck pays me off for many a hard blow of fortune. They 're kind people you are going with, real gentry, and our own blood into the bargain.” A thick heavy sob was all the answer she could make. “To be sure you're sorry; why would n't you be sorry, leaving your own home and going away among strangers? and 't is I am sorry to let you go.” “Are you so, dearest papa? Are you really sorry to part with me? Would you rather I 'd stay behind with you and Nelly?” cried she, looking up at him with eyes swimming in tears.