"He's come down for the first time, Captain Copp. He looks brave this morning," was Mrs. Connaught's answer. "Glad to see ye, comrade; I'll come in later," cried the captain through the window, flourishing his stick in token of congratulation. And old Mr. Connaught, who had not heard a word, nodded the tassel of the white cap by way of answer. In the parlour at home, when Captain Copp entered it, sat his wife at work, a faded lady with a thin and fair face. Taking out the newspaper he had brought, he began to open it. "Did you see the justice, Sam?" asked his wife in her gentle, loving tones. "No, he was out. I only saw Cyril. There'll be a fine row when he comes home. Mary Anne has run away." Mrs. Copp dropped her work. "Run away! oh, Sam! Run away from where?" "From where?--why, from school," said the choleric captain, who was just as hot as his wife was calm. "She came bursting in upon them this morning at breakfast, having run home all the eight miles. And she says she won't go back." Mrs. Samuel Copp, who had never in her life presumed to take a walk without express permission given for it, lifted her hands in dismay. "I feared she would never stay at school; I feared she would not." "Old Connaught is downstairs today, Amy," observed the captain to her after a long interval of silence, as he turned his paper. "I am glad of that. He suffers sadly, poor man." "Well, he's getting old, you see; and he's one that has coddled himself all his life, which doesn't answer. I say! who's this?" A vision of something bright had flashed in at the little garden gate, on its way to the door. Mrs. Copp started up, saying that it was Mary Anne Thornycroft. "Not a bit of it," said the captain. "Mary Anne Thornycroft would come right in and not stand knocking at the door like a simpleton." The knocking was very load and decisive, such as, one is apt to fancy in a simple country place, must herald the approach of a visitor of consequence. Sarah appeared showing in the stranger. "Lady Ellis, ma'am," she said to her mistress. A dress of rich black silk, a handsome India shawl, a girlish straw bonnet, with a great deal of bright mauve ribbon about it, a white veil, and delicate lavender gloves. My lady had got up herself well for her journey; stylish, but not too fine to travel. She had discarded her mourning, but it was convenient to wear her black silks. The captain and his wife rose. Yes, it was Lady Ellis. But she had mistaken the direction given her, and had come to Captain Copp's instead of Mrs. Connaught's. When the explanation came, the gallant captain offered to take her in. "Old Connaught is better today," observed he, volunteering the information. "He's downstairs in a nightcap and flannel gown."