"Indeed, you shall not monopolize my guest an hour, John. Do as you please at Brierly--but I will only relinquish Chrystal a quarter of an hour from this moment." "Chrystal!" said Spottiswoode, as the door closed upon his sister--"Chrystal!" Christobelle beheld her lover's arms extended. Away with every feeling but unfeigned joy to behold him again. She flew towards him, to be clasped to his dear, warm heart! "And now," she said, when their spirits had become somewhat tranquil, "tell me of my father, and tell me of my mother. Are they on the road?" She listened with trembling eagerness to his reply. Spottiswoode had not seen Lady Wetheral since Christobelle quitted Fairlee. She could not be persuaded to leave her room, or resume the direction of the establishment. Sir John Wetheral suffered greatly from her determined resolution to avoid the man on whom he had bestowed his daughter; and he felt deeply, also, the privation of domestic comfort. It was that privation which kept Spottiswoode at Fairlee--he was anxious to be useful to the father who mourned her daughter's absence, and felt alone, in his own house. Spottiswoode knew Christobelle would wish him to stay and solace her father--and he did stay; but his thoughts were chained to Brierly, while he lingered at Lochleven. He had never trusted himself to visit places where they had roamed together. He had not once dared to seat himself on the rocky bench, or walk the terrace by moonlight. He had sat constantly reading in the window which witnessed their first confession of attachment, and he numbered the days which lagged heavily between him and his rest. He had been three weeks absent from all he loved. How Christobelle dwelt upon the words which fell from Spottiswoode's lips! She could not sorrow for her mother's harshness while he was near her. She only felt the calm of his presence, and the absence of every regret. But she should weep when she was alone again! She should suffer when she had time to reflect upon every thing--but not at _that_ moment, for the arm of Spottiswoode encircled her, and she was too happy to reflect. Christobelle received no letter from Lady Wetheral, but her father wrote to her of all he suffered; and he said, his happiest moments were passed in contemplating her prospects. His Chrystal was given to a man who would value the blessing conferred upon him. She would be the wife of a good man--a wife as happy as Isabel, or as Anna Maria proved to be--a wife whose hopes were anchored upon high principle and religious feeling, and who, therefore, would not be called upon to endure the undying torments of self-reproach.