"Oh, yes, Tabitha," cried Isabel, earnestly; "Chrystal does not mean to sorrow for being recalled on that account. She feels the loss of the dear child, and I can understand the agony of parting with such a treasure." Isabel took her boy from the nurse's arms, and pressed it to her bosom. "I can tell what _you_ feel, Chrystal, for, if any one took my child from me, I should die on the spot." The very idea of a separation caused Isabel's cheeks to turn deadly pale. Mr. Boscawen appeared, and advised Christobelle to return with Thompson from Bridgnorth, without giving a thought to her clothes; they should be sent after her. He considered Lady Wetheral's wish peremptory; and, as her anxiety to have her daughter with her was one of Thompson's particular remarks to him, he had ordered horses to be brought out for the Ironbridge; the chaise was at that moment ready, and Thompson only waited for her young lady's presence to return to Wetheral. The adieus were short. Christobelle was again embraced by Isabel, and received a kind farewell from Miss Boscawen, but she was hurried away by Boscawen, without embracing her little nephew; he feared lest Isabel should suffer by a prolonged view of her regrets. When deposited in the chaise, she saw Isabel nodding and weeping, and waving her hand from the window; her child was placed, too, where Christobelle could see him kicking his little feet, ignorant of his poor aunt's sorrow. Mr. Boscawen said many kind things, which were remembered the following day; but Christobelle could not heed them at the time they were uttered; her eyes and heart were at the window with Isabel. She thought her misery could never be exceeded by any of those trials of after-life, which Miss Boscawen alluded to: her heart was broken--her happiness for ever gone. The chaise moved on, and Thompson _tête-à-têted_ with her to Wetheral. The silence was unbroken till the woods of Wetheral roused them into conversation. Thompson would not interfere with her young lady's grief, but allowed her to exhaust its violence in the natural way. Christobelle cried without intermission, till they arrived within a few miles of the castle; and Thompson, probably, was content to remain silent, in pleasing contemplations of her own approaching matrimony. At last she spoke. "Now, my dear Miss Chrystal, cheer up, and think of all you will have to do. Your mamma will not like a sorrowful face, and she is become very capricious and rough, since Miss Clara married." "Is mamma angry with Clara?" Christobelle asked, mournfully. "Oh! for ever, and two days!--angry? not she indeed! but my mistress wants to visit at Ripley--and my master, he won't allow it. She pines very much about it, and gets melancholy; so, as I am engaged to Mr. Daniel, at Hatton, you are to take my place--and a terrible place it will be; for my lady has never spoken to me kindly since I engaged myself to Mr. Daniel, Miss Chrystal."