Meanwhile the Barhams had been sometimes at the Abbey as usual, and sometimes absent for months. It was evident Lord Dunsmoor avoided them, and Dora, in confidence, told Hilary, she had let him know that her heart was engaged elsewhere. Charles Huyton, too, was often there. Hilary met him too often. He was a great friend of James Ufford’s, and frequently at Primrose Bank; of course, Hilary could not prevent that: she could not help, either, falling in with him in her walks and visits, but it was always painful. He was ever the same. Humble, gentle, only begging for friendship, entreating for tolerance, pleading for simple intercourse, if she remonstrated at these meetings; if she took them quietly, and tried to treat them as things of no consequence, he would use the opportunity to say or do something to oblige her. Papers which contained any intelligence of the _Pandanus_ were always forwarded to her, and she knew the hand which directed them: news was obtained through the Admiralty of every change of the vessel’s destination, and transmitted through James Ufford for her information. It was impossible to show more disinterested desire to please her; more anxious concern to win her confidence, and prove himself her friend. It was hard to repulse his attentions, and to seem unjustly suspicious; yet she could not trust him, she feared him too much, to be at ease――she was never sure of his sincerity. Victoria Fielding had not since been seen in the neighborhood; she had married and settled in Cheshire, as had been intended. Charles often went there to visit her, and messages of friendship from her to Miss Duncan were not unfrequently the excuse for some interview. It was summer again, and every thing was sparkling in a brilliant morning sun. Miss Duncan was in the garden before breakfast, cutting some flowers, stooping over a rose-tree, to select the blossoms which could best be spared; Gwyneth was making the tea in the parlor, while Nest was demurely talking to papa, occupied meanwhile in needle-work of the first importance. “Hilary!” said a voice behind her which made her start. Down went the basket, the flowers, the scissors, all disregarded, forgotten. She was in another moment gently, tenderly clasped in Captain Hepburn’s arms. Surprise was swallowed up in delight, she could not even ask how he came, she was so happy to see him there. When the first excitement had passed away and explanations were demanded, it appeared that the machinery of the _Pandanus_ having been found defective, she had been ordered home to refit, and having arrived after an unusually rapid voyage, the captain had obtained forty-eight hours’ leave, and traveled down in all haste to spend the time with his affianced, bringing the first news of his own arrival in England, as both he and Maurice, it appeared, had been too busy to write to announce it.