So bright a flash of pleasure darted from the eyes of Rosalind, as made the old gentleman wink his own--and, in truth, he appeared very nearly as well pleased as herself. "Now then," she said, holding her hand towards him that he might lead her out again, "I will keep Mr. Cartwright's carriage waiting no longer.--Bless you, Sir Gilbert! Do not talk to any body about this till it is done. Oh! how very kind you are!" Sir Gilbert gallantly and gaily kissed the tips of her fingers, and led her again into the drawing-room. Helen, who was still weeping, and seemed as much determined to persevere in it as ever Beatrice did, looked with astonishment in the face of her friend, which, though still covered with blushes, was radiant with joy. It was in vain she looked at her, however--it was a mystery she could not solve: so, once more uttering a mournful farewell, Helen gave a last melancholy gaze at her old friends, and followed Rosalind into the carriage. "May I ask you, Rosalind," she said as soon as it drove off, "what it is that you have been saying to Sir Gilbert, or Sir Gilbert to you, which can have caused you to look so particularly happy at the moment that you are about to take up your residence at Cartwright Park, under the guardianship of its master the Vicar of Wrexhill?" "I will explain the mystery in a moment, Helen. I have asked Sir Gilbert Harrington to let me name him as my guardian, and he has consented." "Have you such power?" replied Helen. "Oh, happy, happy Rosalind!" "Yes, Helen, there may be happiness in that;--but I may find difficulties, perhaps:--and if I do!--" "I trust you will not.--I trust that ere long you will be able to withdraw yourself from a house so disgraced and afflicted as ours!" "And leave you behind, Helen? You think that is part of my scheme?" "How can you help it, Rosalind? You have just read my my mother's letter:--you see the style and tone in which she announces her right over _my person_;--and this from the mother I so doated on! I do assure you, Rosalind, that I often seem to doubt the reality of the misery that surrounds me, and fancy that I must be dreaming. Throw back your thoughts to the period of your first coming to us, and then say if such a letter as this can really come to me from my mother." "The letter is a queer letter--a very queer letter indeed. And yet I am under infinite obligations to it: for had she not used that pretty phrase,--'for such time as I shall continue to be her legal guardian,'--it might never have entered my head to inquire for how long a time that must of necessity be." "I rejoice for you, Rosalind, that the odious necessity of remaining with us is likely to be shortened; and will mix no malice with my envy, even when I see you turn your back for ever upon Cartwright Park." "There would be little cause to envy me, Helen, should I go without taking you with me."