"My dear Bell, you are very kind to bring me such good news; I am such a poor thing in illness--so alarmed about those I love, that my company would have been worse than useless to dear Mrs. Tom Pynsent. Tell her how I rejoice in my grandson. Sir John Spottiswoode, we are very old acquaintance, though you have been so long absent. I hope you have brought back your affection for old friends?" "Unchanged, Lady Wetheral, unchanged." "I am glad to hear it. You have been staying some time at Hatton, I think?" "Nearly three weeks, attending very closely upon Miss Wetheral, who has had no other gallant." "My daughter has been receiving pleasure, I am sure." "I won't answer for that: but I can answer for her very polite reception of me, and that I have received great pleasure from her conversation." "Give a proof of your satisfaction, by staying at Wetheral, Sir John. My husband will be full of regret, if you quit Shropshire without paying a visit to your old friends." "I shall have pleasure in doing so, Lady Wetheral, when I leave Hatton." Her ladyship was greatly pleased by Sir John Spottiswoode's alacrity in accepting her invitation. Her manner wore its usual composure under excitation, but her sentiments transpired in the gentle suavity of her conduct towards Christobelle. She was the "dear companion whom she missed--the only relic of past times--the child left to comfort her age, now all the rest were gone far distant from her." Sir John Spottiswoode felt compassion and interest in her complaining affection. Christobelle knew from experience, that her mother's manner proceeded from some concealed motives, in which she herself was involved. It could not possibly proceed from any views which she might form upon Sir John's liberty, because he counted five and twenty years, and Christobelle was too young to become a speculation; but she was assured there must be some powerful reason to effect such a startling change in her manner of addressing her. Where was the "stupid, tiresome, unloveable Bell" of their last meeting? She was, like Sir John Spottiswoode, unchanged; but she was addressed as the creature who had long been the only object of her mother's cares and affection, since the marriage of Lady Kerrison. This was incomprehensible. Sir John Wetheral accompanied them in their return to Hatton, and Mrs. Pynsent was eager to exhibit her little charge. He was summoned into the dressing-room, where the happy grandmother was seated with the babe, preparing a little soaked biscuit in a small silver saucepan. "Come in, come in, good folks: come in, Sir John Wetheral; here's a chap for you! Don't squeeze the young dog! Sit down, Sir John. Where's Tom? I'm just making a little meal for our young dog! Tom says he shall be christened 'Rattler;' but he shan't be named after beasts that perish."