There was no more talk of returning to Edinburgh. Sir Julius at once took horse for Northumberland, accompanied, at Amabel's own desire, by Mr. Cheriton. She was now out of all danger, and gaining every day. Sir Julius thought of nothing but that his wife had indeed perished, and no one was so cruel as to suggest any thing else to him, especially as, the ruins being explored, the charred remains of a skeleton were indeed found beneath them. Mr. Cheriton, who was not quite so certain, made inquiries of his own, but could learn nothing beyond the fact that Lord Bulmer had gone abroad, intending, it was said, to remain some years, and taking no one with him but a young French servant whom he had hired in London. Sir Julius put his family into the deepest mourning, and buried this poor remains with every solemnity. Then, putting all his business into Mr. Thirlwall's hands, he also went over to Holland, thinking, I imagine, that he was best out of the way till the matter of his little journey north was forgotten. Amabel recovered rapidly, and by the time the snowdrops were in blossom, she was able to return with her husband to Newcastle. They were very earnest to have me take up my abode with them, and I consented to make them a visit; though I had no mind it should be a very long one. I think young married people are best left to themselves to shake down together. But I could not refuse to help her settle in her new home. We found every thing in the best of order—thanks to the old housekeeper and Mrs. Thorpe—and the house was over-running with the gifts brought in by Mr. Cheriton's parishioners. Mrs. Thorpe was the same, and yet not the same. There was an odd sort of consciousness and shyness about her, especially when she told me that she had thoughts of giving up her shop. "You see I can live well enough without it," said she, "and I am tired of being at every one's beck and call." "And have you met Father Brousseau lately?" asked Amabel. "You wrote us last winter that he had been to see you two or three times." Mrs. Thorpe blushed like a young girl. "Oh, yes. Have you not heard? He has a parish in London, among the French weavers, where he is doing a great deal of good." "I am right glad to hear it," said Amabel. "He is an excellent man." "Then, perhaps, you will not be sorry to hear that he—that I—in short, we are going to be married!" said Mrs. Thorpe, smiling, in the midst of her confusion, at our astonishment. "You see, he is such a babe in the woods in respect of English ways, and needs some one to care for him, and I thought I could do as much good in that way as any other. And I always did like the good gentleman ever since I took care of him when he was so seasick coming over on my brother's vessel."