Fay was very sorry when the time came for Erle to go back to Belgrave House; she would miss him sadly she knew. They had resumed their old walks and drives, and Fay paid visits to Bonnie Bess in her stable, and taught the pretty creature to follow her over the place like a dog. Erle was sorry to go too; he had grown very much attached to his new cousin. Mr. Ferrers was to join him a little later at Belgrave House, and he promised to write and give her full particulars of their visit to Beulah Place. In his heart he had a secret longing to feel Fern's hand in his again, and to see her bright welcoming smile. "I have been here a whole month," he grumbled; "no wonder Hugh is tired of me by this time." Fay was rather surprised then to receive a letter from him two or three days afterward telling her that Mr. Ferrers's visit was indefinitely postponed. "Everything has gone wrong," he wrote; "and the fates, those mischievous cross-grained old women with the one eye between them, are dead against us. "I went over to Beulah Place the first evening just to reconnoiter, and was much disgusted to hear that Miss Davenport--Miss Ferrers, I mean, only I stick to the old name from habit--was nursing one of her pupils with the measles. The little rascal--it is a boy--had refused to be nursed by any one else; and there she is in the curate's house kept in durance vile; and, to make matters worse, there is some talk of her going out of town with them. "I wrote off to the Grange at once, and Miss Ferrers answered me. Her brother would defer his visit for the present, she said, until Miss Davenport was back in her old quarters. He was much disappointed, of course, at this delay; but he was satisfied to know that she was in good hands, and he was used to disappointments. I did feel so sorry for the poor old fellow when I read that." And the rest of the letter was filled with lively descriptions of a ball where he had met Miss Selby, and danced with her half the night. Fay shook her head over this part of Erle's letter. He was an incorrigible flirt, she was afraid; but she missed him very much. The old Hall seemed very quiet without Erle's springy footsteps and merry whistle, and somehow Fay was a little quieter too. For a change was passing over Hugh's Wee Wifie in those early spring days. With the new hope there came a new and tender expression on her sweet face. She grew less child-like and more womanly, and day by day there grew a certain modest dignity that became her well. Hugh was very gentle with her, and careful to guard her from all imprudence; but life was very difficult to him just then, and he could not always restrain his growing irritability. He was ill, and yet unwilling to own anything was amiss. He scoffed at the idea that his nerves were disorganized; and with the utmost recklessness seemed bent on ruining his fine constitution.