"Oh, when those ancient codgers get together, talking of their past times and doings, they take no more heed how time goes than we do at a ball," carelessly spoke Charlotte. Maria laughed. "Lucky for you, Charlotte, that Lady Godolphin is not within hearing. 'Ancient codgers!'" Charlotte left the room, carrying her letters with her. Maria sat on, some time longer--and then it occurred to her to look at her watch. A quarter to five. A quarter to five! Had she been asleep? No, only dreaming. She started up, threw wide the door, and was passing swiftly into the dark ante-chamber. The house had not been lighted, and the only light came from the fire behind Maria--revealing her clearly enough, but rendering that ante-chamber particularly dark. Little wonder, then, that she gave a scream when she found herself caught in some one's arms, against whom she had nearly run. "Is it you, Sir George? I beg your pardon." Not Sir George. Sir George would not have held her to him with that impassioned fervour. Sir George would not have taken those fond kisses from her lips. It was another George, just come in from his long day's journey. He pressed his face, cold from the fresh night air, upon her warm one. "My dearest! I knew you would be the first to welcome me!" Dark enough around, it was still; but a light as of some sunny Eden, illumined the heart of Maria Hastings. The shock of joy was indeed great. Every vein was throbbing, every pulse tingling, and George Godolphin, had he never before been sure that her deep and entire love was his, must have known it then. A servant was heard approaching with lights. George Godolphin turned to the fire, and Maria turned and stood near him. "Did any of you expect me?" he inquired. "Oh no!" impulsively answered Maria. "I can scarcely now believe that it is you in reality." He looked at her and laughed; his gay laugh: as much as to say that he had given her a tolerable proof of his reality. She stood, in her pretty, timid manner, before the fire, her eyelids drooping, and the flame lighting up her fair face. "Is my father at home?" he asked, taking off his overcoat. He had walked from the railway station, a mile or two distant. "He went out with Lady Godolphin this morning to pay a visit to some old friends. I thought they would have returned long before this." "Is he getting strong, Maria?" Maria thought of what Charlotte Pain had said, and hesitated. "He appears to me to be better than when we left Prior's Ash. But he is far from strong." The servant finished lighting the chandelier and retired. George Godolphin watched the door close, and then drew Maria before him, gazing down at her. "Let me look at you, my darling! Are you glad to see me?" Glad to see him! The tears nearly welled up with the intensity of her emotion. "I had begun to think you were not coming at all," she said, in a low tone. "Charlotte Pain received a letter from Mrs. Verrall this morning, in which you were mentioned as----"