The time sped on as fast as time does speed under such circumstances. We made little presents to our scholars at the school, to the old women in the almshouse that we visited, and to the clerk's wife, who lamented greatly over our departure. Master Tubbs had not become any more reconciled to the new state of things at St. Anne's, but he was obliged to allow that his wife was much easier to live with since she had come round to Mr. Cheriton's way of thinking. "And I can't find it in my heart to blame Mr. Cheriton when I hear the poor thing as used to fret and groan from morning till night and back again, a singing of Mr. Wesley's hymns softly to herself now and again. And when them dreadful pains come on, and she can't help crying out, she says between whiles—" "'Never mind, David, I'll soon be where there's no more crying.'" "And Mr. Cheriton comes to see her every week—and such prayers as he makes. No, I can't find no fault young ladies, so long as I sees the poor old woman so happy. But what she will do when you are gone, I don't know, for she says you bring the sunshine whenever you come." Two more important events were destined to be crowded into this eventful week. One day, when Amabel and I came home from walking, we were met by Mrs. Thorpe with the news that a gentleman had called to see me, and would call again. "To see me!" said I, surprised. "Are you sure, Mrs. Thorpe?" "Quite sure, Miss Lucy. He is an elderly man, and gave the name of Corbet, so I fancy he may be some connection to your family. He said he would not wait, but would come again in an hour." I did not know that I had a relation in the world, though Mrs. Crump had told us that there were still persons of the name living in Cornwall. It may be guessed that I waited with no little impatience and curiosity to see the stranger. He came punctually to his time—an old gentleman, but hale and well preserved, with black eyes and eye-brows like my own. His manner was just that mixture of fatherliness and gallantry which is apt to take young girls, and I was very well-pleased when he gave me what he called his credentials, namely, a letter from Sir Julius Leighton, introducing him as Mr. Andrew Corbet, my father's uncle, and a gentleman of some property in Cornwall. "Yes, I am your uncle," said he, as I curtsied and gave him my hand, while he kissed my forehead. "Your father was a great favorite of mine, before he vexed me by moving up here into Northumberland. But never mind that now. He was a good man, and I hope his daughter is as worthy of him as she is like him. And this lady, I suppose, is my kinswoman also? On my word, niece, I don't think I was such an old fool after all, in coming all the way up here to find such a pair of relations." "I am sure it was very good of you, sir," said I, and, indeed, I felt it so, for the journey was a very serious one in those days. "It is a long way to come."