“Well, I am afraid I am; I want to know how to cure that. But do tell me something more about this brother of yours; how long has he been away? what is he, a captain, too? or what?” “He is only a mate, Dora; but has served long enough to be promoted, only we have no interest. But the best part of Captain Hepburn’s letter, Mrs. Paine, is, that he hopes to get him leave to come home for his health, and then we shall have him here again!” Hilary clasped her hands in a very unusual ecstacy. “And what sort of interest does it need to make a young man a lieutenant?” inquired Dora, again. “Could papa do it for you?” “interest at the Admiralty,” replied Mrs. Paine. “I hardly think Mr. Barham would like to trouble himself about it, because he has a nephew at sea himself.” “Oh, yes! cousin Peter――I can not bear him, Hilary; I hope your brother Maurice is not like our cousin Peter.” “Absurd, Dora!” ejaculated Isabel; “Peter is a very good sort of young man.” However, Dora’s inquiries were not to be stopped by Isabel’s ejaculations; and before she took leave of the Vicarage, she had made herself mistress of the rank which Maurice now held, of the time he had served, and the wished-for promotion he deserved to attain. Maurice’s illness, and his expected return to England, so excited and engrossed the minds of the family at the Vicarage, that another piece of news, which reached them the same time, was comparatively insignificant; this was the projected return of Charles Huyton. A letter to Mr. Duncan reached the Vicarage the week after the Barham family left the Abbey, intimating that he was proposing to be at “the Ferns” in about a fortnight. It was a calm and friendly letter; not one expression or sentiment betrayed any strong emotion, nor was there the smallest allusion to the motive which had taken him abroad. Hilary was much pleased; and when she had thoughts to spare for him at all, they were of a quiet and satisfactory nature. CHAPTER VII. “What lady is this, whose silken attire Gleams so rich by the light of the fire? The ringlets on her shoulder lying, In their flitting luster vying With the clasp of burnished gold Which her heavy robe doth hold.” TRISTRAM AND ISEULT. The Barhams had been in town about a fortnight, when Hilary received a letter from Dora, inclosing another addressed to that young lady; Dora’s epistle was written in the following words: “DEAREST HILARY――