"Yes, I recognise Miss Wetheral," answered Mr. Spottiswoode, "for I see the same expression of good-humour, and the same fine outline, which gave such promise of what we behold. Miss Wetheral, you are most welcome to Lidham." "By the Lord Harry!" cried Mr. Wycherly, emerging from his own room in spectacles, "here's a _posse comitatus_! Well, I'm come to welcome the new filly myself. How d'ye do, Miss Wetheral?--how d'ye do, ma'am? God help us, how the young people grow! They run us down, Mr. Boscawen! You are come to stay a week--a month with us, I hope? Come in, come in, all of you!" They entered the sitting-room, and the conversation was general for a short time, till Mrs. Spottiswoode suddenly turned to Christobelle. "My dear Bell, I know what your anxiety must be, to hear of those whom John has left behind. I see, by the expression of those large eyes, that you are longing to hear news of Fairlee. Come with me, and I give John alone leave to follow us. We will adjourn into the library. I can quite understand your feelings. John, you may follow us with your letters." Mrs. Spottiswoode led Christobelle into the library, and there she again embraced her. The first reception, she said, belonged to Miss Wetheral, but now she embraced her future relation--the bride of her excellent John--the brother beloved by all! She was embracing now the future Lady Spottiswoode. Christobelle returned her embrace with fervent pleasure. She said her heart rejoiced in the congratulations of her friends, and in the language of praise which always accompanied the mention of Spottiswoode's name. She only hoped--and she expressed the hope with tears--that her mother would in time see Spottiswoode with the eyes of all who knew his great worth; that she would in time receive him as a dear son, and remove the only impediment to her happiness, by extending the hand of friendship towards him, and her pardon towards herself. Mrs. Spottiswoode hoped all things. "My dear Chrystal--which, by the by, is a prettier designation than Bell--there is bitter in every cup. Rest happy in the knowledge that Lady Wetheral's offended feelings proceed from disappointed views, and not from unworthiness in the object. It must always be painful to displease a parent, but it cannot, in this particular case, strike deep into your happiness. Your excellent father long wished for the match--he confessed it to John. Come in!" A gentle tap at the door was heard, and Spottiswoode entered. "You allowed me to follow you--am I welcome now?" "Ever welcome, wherever you appear, John; and most welcome to Chrystal and myself," said Mrs. Spottiswoode; "I will leave you while you read your letters together. I shall allow you a quarter of an hour, to acquaint yourself with their contents, Chrystal." "One hour, Pen--only one little sixty-five minutes!" cried Spottiswoode, beseechingly.