may care to know what has become of one who, in spite of all, must sign himself "Your affectionate lover, "PHILIP HARTLEY." The room seemed to swim with her as she read this startling communication; but she made a great effort to be calm, and to think soberly and steadily what this meant, and what was to be done; so, in a calm voice, she said to her mother, 66 To-day is Tuesday; is it not, mother?" "Yes, my dear, I think so." "The 3d of September. I must see a newspaper, so I will just go over to the Star and look at The Times.' I shall not be gone long." "Is anything the matter, dear?" "A little, mother. Read that while I am gone;" and, putting the letter in her mother's hand, she went out to the inn to ask for the paper. She was soon back. "The Eagle does not sail till the 8th, mother. I think I shall go to London and try to get on board, and see Philip." "I'm sure I wouldn't;-the good-for-nothing fellow! I'd let him go. I haven't common patience with him! Have nothing to do with him, I say!" 66 Mother, we have loved too long to speak like this." "Well, true, my dear; but I really don't think father will like you going to London by yourself. Why, it be such a terrible dangerous place!" "I'm not afraid, mother; and I'm quite old enough, and ugly enough," she said, with a faint attempt at a smile, "to take care of myself.” "Well, I be only a poor old woman, and haven't much recollection, perhaps, of such matters; but it seems to me if my man had served me so, I'd see him a step farther than London, or Australy either, before I'd go after him!" "We won't talk about it any more, mother dear, to-night; many things may happen before then to prevent my going." "Ah, poor dear! very true, very true! I haven't common patience!" again muttered the poor old woman, throwing down the letter on the table. Millicent took it, read it again, folded it up, placed it in her bosom, and went out into the porch; and other drops beside the dew were soon glistering among the rose-leaves. CHAPTER VII. "There lies no desert in the track of life; MRS. PONSONBY was, day by day, gradually gaining strength, confirming her husband in his bright, hopeful aspirations, so that now her Bath-chair might be seen before many a cottage-door, while she sat within talking kindly to the women, playing with the children, and bringing, for the time she stayed, at least, hɔpe and cheerfulness to all. She made these efforts principally for her school's sake; she so wished the mothers to understand the full advantages of it, and to show them how immeasurably they would gain by having their daughters properly instructed in the domestic arts so useful to them. With such gentle earnestness she urged this, till almost persuaded, they promised to "think of it." Some said, to oblige her! their girls should go; they could not imagine such zeal and earnestness was only for their sakes, and so thought it a favour done to her to spare the girls to school. In one cottage she entered there was a child about thirteen, looking so pale and ill, that she inquired at once what ailed her. 66 Well, mum, she's hurted herself somehow; overlifting, I expect. She's been a month or two at Hill Farm, and had too much to do, she tells me she felt a kind of strain lifting an iron pot off the fire, and she's never been just right ever since." "I should think not, indeed! But, Mrs. Mason, she is far too young for such heavy work. Can you not afford to keep her at home? she could learn many things in your cottage fitted to her age and strength, and you could see she did nothing beyond it." "Well, true, but they must get out and earn their bread: it's their turn now. "I quite agree with you that each child in a family should be made to earn something, but only in proportion to their strength. Have you had advice for her?" "No, not the doctor. I got some stuff from the shop for her, but she ain't no better." "What was it?" "Oh, I don't know! something of a physicky nature; but she kept on taking it, and it never did her any good, as I could see, and I left it off. I have thought of asking Millicent Ray to step in and look at her." "She seems to be everybody's doctor," said Mrs. Ponsonby, smiling. "Well, yes, ma'am, she's very clever in doctoring. What she orders most time does good. I don't know where she picked her learning up." "Why, at a very good school: she went to such a one as I want to have here. Have you seen the Prospectus ?" "The paper about it? Oh, yes, ma'am; at least my master has, I believe. I see him last night reading something.' "Well, I hope you will try, if you can, to send some of your children when it is open; for, indeed, you will find it more beneficial than sending them to service, though it may cost a little at the time. I think your poor little girl ought to have more colour in those cheeks, and you must let me send my doctor to know what is to be done to bring back the roses." "Thank you, ma'am, but doctors most times orders what poor folks can't have." "What he orders, I will see your little girl does have." |