This morning, I was sitting by myself in the drawing-room. My husband spent a great deal of time out of doors, and was seldom with me except at table, and for a short time in the evening. Baby was out with Amy, his maid. The external circumstances did not differ much from those in which Flora Ennerdale found me last winter, on her first visit to Cottiswoode; but there was, in reality, a great change. I no longer sat in listless indolence, neither doing, nor caring to do anything. I was working busily at some little frocks for baby. The flowers on my table were no longer without interest to me. I was not ignorant now of the management of the Cottiswoode School, and the wants of the old women at Cottisbourne. I had begun to use all the natural and innocent means of occupation that lay around me; and if I was not yet quite a Lady Bountiful, I had already made my peace with the clamorous villagers, who did not quite smile upon me at my first return. I was singing softly to myself as I sat at work--not because my heart was light--but Alice was not near me to talk to, and, truth to tell, I no longer wished for too much commerce with my own thoughts. The sound was a great deal more cheerful than the meaning was; but when I was thus occupied, I heard the sound of some arrival, and immediately, not Flora only, but Mrs. Ennerdale, were ushered into the room. I was so much surprised that it made me nervous, especially as I was at once enfolded in the wide, warm, odorous embrace of Mrs. Ennerdale: here, at least, there was no lack of cordiality. I breathed more freely when I emerged from under the shadow of her great shawl and ample draperies, and Flora was so bright, so happy in what she supposed to be my happiness, that my heart melted under the sunny gleam of kindred and kindness. I was grateful to Mrs. Ennerdale for acknowledging my presence in her own person. I was glad to be relieved thus from one phase of anxiety; at least, thus far, I was not tutored. "And how well you are looking!" cried Mrs. Ennerdale; "Flora told me you were quite pale and thin when she saw you--ah, there's nothing like native air, my dear--you've got quite a bloom--you look better than ever I saw you look, though that is quite natural--where is baby?--not asleep or out of doors, I hope. Do you know you ought not to let me see him, for I shall begin to envy you immediately--I envy every woman I see with a baby in her arms. Ah, my dear, it's the very happiest time of your life." I could very well understand how it should be so, and though I could not help sighing, I liked Mrs. Ennerdale the better for what she had said. "May I run and look for him, cousin Hester?" cried Flora, eagerly. "I have been telling Mamma what a sweet baby he is, and I do so want to see him again; oh, I see Alice in the garden; there he is, I will run and bring him in myself to show Mamma."