“Sorry! oh no! I am too fond of it, too proud of it, for that! I shall be glad, too, to see the old faces again; Aunt Matilda, pretty Clemmy, my uncle, and all. I hope that I shall find my pony all right. I shall enjoy a good gallop again! Oh, I shall be delighted to see my own home with the drawbridge, and the moat, and the old yew hedge; and the flag will wave on the tower, I know, on my return, to welcome the little master back! Then we must go to see my tenants, especially old Widow Grove; I am impatient to take her the shell ornament which I have bought for her: and my poor dear old friend who lives at the mill—what a welcome I shall have from him! Oh, my tenants will not be sorry to have me amongst them again! And yet,” rattled on the lively boy, “I have enjoyed myself exceedingly here. How I delighted in our visit to that old ruin; don’t I see it there, just beyond the fields? Now, Mr. Ewart, I have something to remind me of everything but that; just let me stop the coachman,” he continued, drawing the check-string, “and run off for one stone.” “I think, Charles, that we have a long journey before us; it is hardly desirable to delay.” “Oh, but I’ll not be two minutes, you’ll see. I’ll be back again, like the lightning!” and, without waiting for the steps to be let down, he sprang lightly out of the carriage. “Heaven bless the dear boy!” inwardly prayed Mr. Ewart, as he saw the graceful form bounding away. “Heaven bless him, and make him a blessing to many! A noble career seems to be before him, and he has a kind, a noble, a generous heart, which has already, I trust, been given to God. But I fear for him, the dangers of his position; he will have so much to nourish pride; and pride, alas! is his besetting sin. His guardian, and his aunt, rather foster than check it; and London, to which he is to be taken in the winter, will be full of snares to the young peer. But why should I thus take anxious thought? I earnestly strive to impress on his heart the truths of our holy religion. He is willing to listen, and ready to learn; can I doubt that a blessing will rest on my prayerful efforts, or that he who is ever a Father to the orphan, will guard my dear pupil in the hour of temptation?” The clergyman was suddenly arrested in his meditations by a loud call from Lord Fontonore, who had reached the other end of the field; and looking in that direction, he saw the boy waving his hat, and making impatient and excited gestures as if to entreat him to come to him. Convinced that no trifle thus moved his pupil, Mr. Ewart instantly descended from the carriage, and ordering the man-servant to follow, proceeded rapidly towards the spot. [Illustration: MARK DISCOVERED BY LORD FONTONORE.] “Oh, sir! oh, Mr. Ewart, only look here!” exclaimed Charles, as soon as his tutor came within hearing. “Poor Mark Dowley, only see how they have treated him. He is not dying—oh, I trust that he is not dying!”