Christobelle was happiest of the happy at Brierly. Mr. Boscawen had always something pointed in his remarks which attracted her admiration; and if Isabel could not withdraw her attention from her new and delightful occupation, Christobelle was ready to profit by her husband's extensive reading; to listen with eagerness to his details; and enjoy his animating comments upon men and books. Miss Boscawen was aware that her brother's attention was given exclusively now to his wife and child, to the utter exclusion of her complaints and alarms; but her anxieties abated not. She still objected to every arrangement, and cavilled at all pleasures which her own brain had not devised; she could not even participate in them. Isabel had long wished to spend a day in Bridgnorth. She knew no one in that part of the country; she could scarcely give a reason for wishing to visit that quiet rural spot; but she had been struck by its beautiful scenery, as she passed and repassed from Wetheral. She liked its situation, its river, its luxuriant banks; altogether, she had an extraordinary desire to spend a day at Bridgnorth, and take her child. It was a little change, it would be a pleasant long drive, and she was sure every body would like the little trip. Isabel mechanically watched her husband as she uttered her wish. He smiled. Isabel found a willing auditor, and her desire waxed stronger in word and deed. "Well, now, dear Mr. Boscawen, you will take us; won't you? Chrystal and the child will have so many things to see. To be sure, the dear babe can't understand what he sees, but I shall so like to carry him about the town, and hear people admiring his little beautiful face!" Mr. Boscawen was overcome. This was the first time Isabel had ever addressed him as "dear Mr. Boscawen," and she was tossing her child at the moment with such grace, with such beaming affection! He threw his long arms round his wife and child, most ungracefully, but most fondly.-- "We will do as you wish, my love; we will go to Bridgnorth for a day--for a week, if you prefer it." Isabel smiled in her husband's embrace, and looked truly happy. At that moment, perhaps, a change passed over the mind of each. Mr. Boscawen lost his alarmed and disgusted pupil in the matronly woman and companion, at least in _one_ engrossing care. Isabel might feel that the task-master was exchanged for a kind and indulgent protector. Her child might engross her heart, but she would honour its father, and rejoice under his mild administration. Isabel's nature was grateful: she must love those who kindly sought her happiness; and Mr. Boscawen's attention to her wishes would surely secure her content of heart. Miss Boscawen appeared the only thorn in her path likely to affect her peace; but the release from books and study was to Isabel's mind emancipation from all evils. The minor vexations of life were hardly felt by her yielding and gentle temper.