Mr. Cheriton returned to his parish in Newcastle, where, he told us, matters were going very much to his satisfaction. He had succeeded in establishing the weekly lecture on which he had set his heart; and it was well attended. He had also set up classes for the young women and elder girls, where they read good books and perfected themselves in various useful works, and in these Mrs. Thorpe was giving him very efficient help. He was on the best of terms with the rector of St. Nicholas, an old gentleman who was nearly or quite blind, but an excellent man and a good clergyman. This gentleman had been away during the whole of our stay in Newcastle, and we had more than once heard it said that on his return he would put a spoke in Mr. Cheriton's wheel; so that it was a great pleasure to hear that though he did not exactly approve of all Mr. Cheriton's doings, and thought him rather over-zealous, he made no active opposition to him. Mr. Cheriton also told us another thing which we found it hard to believe—namely, that he was quite sure he had seen Father Brousseau at one of Mr. Wesley's out-of-door preachings he had attended not long before. He said he had not known how to believe his own eyes at first, but he had watched him and was quite sure it was the same person he had seen at Mrs. Thorpe's shop. "How very strange!" said Amabel. "How did he look?" "He seemed very much affected, I thought!" replied Mr. Cheriton. "At first, he pulled his hat down and kept his cloak up as if he were afraid of being seen, but toward the last he seemed too much interested in the discourse to think about concealment. But I can tell you news of another friend, which will surprise you yet more!" he added smiling. "Mrs. Cropsey is married!" "Married!" we both exclaimed not very civilly! "Not married already! Why, her husband has not been dead a year, and she could never speak of him without crying." "Exactly!" replied Mr. Cheriton drily. "She did up all her grief at once. She was married very privately by license more than two months ago to old Mr. Arnott the great ship owner, but it is owned now, and she presides over his fine house with great dignity." "I hope she will not talk as much of poor dear Mr. Cropsey as she used to do to us!" I remarked. "I have wished sometimes the good man had either not died at all, or else had died before she ever saw him!" "I have only heard her mention him once!" said Mr. Cheriton. "I had some business with Mr. Arnott, and was asked to dine, and Mrs. Arnott remarked as she dispensed the hare soup, how much poor dear Mr. Cropsey would have enjoyed it. He was so fond of hare soup!" We had no very grand doings at Christmas, as Mrs. Chloe continued very unwell and there was no master at home. However, every cottager received a good piece of beef and a pudding or materials for one; all the old women in the alms houses had doles of tea and snuff, and those who needed them had new gowns or red cloaks.