“There ain't anywhere for you to sit, sir!” lamented the old lady. “If I'd only known! I'm sure, sir, I wish you joy!” “Thank you, Mrs. Locke. We'll sit here on the mattress.” Richard had not forgotten how the eyes of the picture used to draw his, and he had often since wondered whether it could be the portrait of his mother. In a few minutes Mrs. Locke reappeared, carrying the portrait, which had never been put in a frame, and knotting the cord, Richard hung it again on the old nail. It showed a well-formed face, but was very flat and wooden. The eyes, however, were comparatively well painted; and it seemed to Richard that he could read both sorrow and disappointment in them, with a yearning after something she could not have. They went out for a ramble in the park, and there Richard told his friend as much as he knew of his story, describing as well as he understood them the changes that had passed upon him in the matter of religion, and making no secret of what he owed to the expostulations and spiritual resistances of Barbara. Wingfold, after listening with profound attention, told him he had passed through an experience in many points like, and at the root the same as his own; adding that, long before he was sure of anything, it had become more than possible for him to keep going on; and that still he was but looking and hoping and waiting for a fuller dawn of what had made his being already blessed. They consulted whether Wingfold should act on the baronet's careless invitation, and concluded it better he should not stay to dinner. Then, as there was yet time, and it was partly on Wingfold's way, they set out for the smithy. CHAPTER LIX. _WINGFOLD AND ARTHUR MANSON_. When the first delight of their meeting was abated, Simon sent to let Arthur Manson know that his brother was there. For Arthur had all this time been with Simon, to whom Richard, saving enough from his allowance, had prevented him from being a burden. He looked much better, and was enchanted to see his brother again, and learn the good news of his recognition by his father. “I'm so glad it's you and not me, Richard!” he said. “It makes me feel quite safe and happy. We shall have nothing now but fair play all round, the rest of our lives! How happy Alice will be!” “Is Alice still in the old place? I haven't heard of her for some time,” said Richard. “Don't you know?” exclaimed Arthur. “She's been at the parsonage for months and months! Mrs. Wingfold went and fetched her away, to work for her, and be near me. She's as happy now as the day is long. She says if everybody was as good as her master and mistress, there would be no misery left in the world.” “I don't doubt it,” answered Richard. “--But I've just parted with Mr. Wingfold, and he didn't say a word about her!” “When anything has to be done, Mr. Wingfold never forgets it,” said Arthur; “but I should just like to hear all the things Mr. Wingfold did and forgot in a month!”