Albinia’s cheeks glowed with sympathy, and she longed for the power of helping her, marvelling how a being so nervously restless and devoid of self-command could pass through a scene likely to be so trying. The bell sounded, and the loud hearty tones of a manly voice were heard. Albinia looked to see whether her help were needed, but Miss Meadows’s whole face was brightened, and moving across the room with unusually even steps, she leant on the arm of her mother’s chair, saying, ‘Mamma, it is Captain Pringle. You remember Samuel Pringle? He settled in the Mauritius, you know, and he was at church this morning with his little boy.’ There was something piteous in the searching look of inquiry that Mrs. Meadows cast at her daughter’s face, but Maria had put it aside with an attempt at a smile, as ‘Captain Pringle’ was announced. He trod hard, and spoke loud, and his curly grizzled hair was thrown back from a bronzed open face, full of broad heartiness, as he walked in with outstretched hand, exclaiming, ‘Well, and how do you do?’ shaking with all his might the hand that Maria held out. ‘And how are you, Mrs. Meadows? You see I could not help coming back to see old friends.’ ‘Old friends are always welcome, sir,’ said the old lady, warmly. ‘My son, Mr. Kendal, sir--Mrs. Kendal,’ she added, with a becoming old-fashioned movement of introduction. ‘Very glad to meet you,’ said the captain, extending to each such a hearty shake of the hand, that Albinia suspected he was taking her on trust for Maria’s sister. ‘Your little boy?’ asked Mrs. Meadows. ‘Ay--Arthur, come and make the most of yourself, my man,’ said he, thumping the shy boy on the back to give him courage. ‘I’ve brought him home for his schooling--quite time, you see, though what on earth I’m to do without him--’ The boy looked miserable at the words. ‘Ay, ay,’ continued his father, ‘you’ll do well enough. I’m not afraid for you, master, but that you’ll be happy as your father was before you, when once you have fellows to play with you. Here is Mr. Kendal will tell you so.’ It was an unfortunate appeal, but Mr. Kendal made the best of it, saying that his boy was very happy at his tutor’s. ‘A private tutor, eh?’ said the rough captain, ‘I’d not thought of that--neither home nor school. I had rather do it thoroughly, and trust to numbers to choose friends from, and be licked into shape.’ Poor little Arthur looked as if the process would be severe; and by way of consolation, Mrs. Meadows suggested, a piece of cake. Maria moved to ring the bell. It was the first time she had stirred since the visitor came in, and he getting up at the same time, that she might not trouble herself, their eyes met. ‘I’m very glad to see you again,’ he exclaimed, catching hold of her hand for another shake; ‘but, bless me! you are sadly altered! I’m sorry to see you looking so ill.’