Their visitor seemed so little anxious to go away, and altogether remained so sociably with them, that Mrs. Hepburn could not avoid asking him to join their early dinner; which he agreed to with an alacrity that bespoke either a good disposition for their society, or a good appetite for his meal. Nest had a hundred questions to ask him about Hurstdene, when she learned he had been there recently; and his replies were so interesting, that even Gwyneth was drawn into the conversation, and found herself inquiring about old friends and old haunts, although, theoretically, she would have concluded that it was a subject she could not approach. From that day Lord Dunsmore often was their guest; their little house and modest establishment seemed to have peculiar attractions for him; and he was continually doing something to show his concern for Gwyneth’s delicate health, and to expedite her recovery. He was most anxious that they should take advantage of his carriage, horses, and servants, which he declared were idling away in uselessness, as he never wanted them; he made his sister-in-law, Lady Rupert, who was staying with him, call repeatedly to carry them out for drives in the country; he induced them, as the weather grew warmer, to make excursions in his yacht, and in many other ways testified his friendly feeling toward them. Best and most delightful of all, he one day brought them news of their brother’s promotion, a circumstance which, as he was not appointed to any ship, would probably bring him home in less than a month. He did not say that it was his interest which had procured the step, but the sisters felt that it was, and thought that they had good reason to be grateful. CHAPTER XXIII. “Hear the loud alarum bells―― Brazen bells! What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of night, How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire―― In a mad expostulation to the deaf and frantic fire; Leaping higher, higher, higher, With a desperate desire.” EDGAR POE. The long northern winter had nearly passed, and the breaking up of the cold weather was daily expected at Halifax. To the fair Haligonians themselves this season had been one of unusual enjoyment and gayety, for more than one British ship had, during this time, visited them, and the _Erratic_ had passed the whole period in their harbor. The political disturbances which had made this arrangement advisable need not here be detailed; they have nothing to do with my story, and did not in the least interfere to stop the festive meetings, in which those far-famed belles are said to delight, while they added to their parties the unusual presence of merry young naval officers, always eager to assist by their company in social amusements.