I remained on my knees, holding by a chair, trembling, looking at the name; did he always sign himself so? I--I knew nothing at all about my husband;--since he was my husband I had never got a letter from him before. Harry!--was he Harry and not Edgar to every one but me? Then I sprang up in the quick revulsion and change of all my thoughts; I ran out to call for Alice--to call for Mrs. Templeton--to make preparations for his return, as if he had been years away. They were all glad, but amazed, and did not understand me. No; I was far too unreasonable for any one to understand. I was in wild, high spirits now--singing to myself as I ran up-stairs for baby. I said to myself--Life was coming--life was beginning--and that our old misery should not go on longer--not for a day! And then the evening stole on by gentle touches--growing late before I knew. I went myself to see everything prepared: I watched the fires, which would not keep at the climax point of brightness, but constantly faded and had to be renewed again. I exhausted myself in assiduous attention to all the lesser comforts which might refresh a traveller on this wintry night. I went out to the avenue to see what a cheerful glow the windows of the library threw out into the darkness; and within, it was pleasant to see how the whole house warmed and brightened under my unusual energy. The servants contemplated all this with evident surprise and bewilderment. From Joseph, who came to tell me that he had seen Saville safely housed in the Rectory, though with great trouble to the Rector, who scarcely could keep his brother from following me to Cottiswoode--and Mrs. Templeton, whose manners towards me all the day had been very stately and disapproving--up to Alice, who never asked a question, but looked on--a most anxious spectator--only able to veil her interest by entire silence; every one watched me and wondered. I knew, as if by intuition, how these lookers-on waited for the crisis of the story which had progressed before their eyes so long. Yes, my pride had need to have been humbled--it was I that had made of our household life a drama of passion and misery for the amusement of this humble audience--and I had my reward. The evening grew late, but still no one came--I could not help growing very anxious once more;--then, stirred into excitement by the sound of some arrival, I was bitterly disappointed to see only Miss Saville, coming, as anxious as I, though after a different fashion, to find out if she could what the subject was, which had been discussed between her brother and myself. I was grieved for her distress, but I could not answer her--my own trouble was full occupation for me--and I said only, "To-morrow, to-morrow!"--that to-morrow which, one way or other, would be another era--a new time.