"And what will your papa say, child?"

"I think he will feel a good deal for old Proudfoot," said Jenny.

"He rather likes the old man, and has laughed at our hatred of Miss Moy's pretensions."

"Then it is settled," said Archie; "I will write to Moy, for I suppose he had rather not see me, that I will say nothing about it publicly while Mr. Proudfoot lives, and will not show this confession of his, unless it should be absolutely necessary to my character. Nor after old Proudfoot's death, will I take any step without notice to him."

"Much more than he ought to expect," said Mrs. Poynsett.

"I don't know," said Archie. "If he had refused, it would not have been easy to bring him to the point, I suppose I must have surrendered to take my trial, but after so many years, and with so many deaths, it would have been awkward."

"And the money, mother," said Miles, producing a cheque. "Poor Moy, that was a relief to him. He said he had kept it ready for years."

Mrs. Poynsett waved it off as if she did not like to touch it.

"I don't want it! Take it, Archie. Set up housekeeping on it," she said. "You are not really going back to that place?"

"Yes, indeed I am; I sail on Tuesday. Dear good Aunt Julia, how comfortable it is to feel any one caring for me again; but I am afraid even this magnificent present, were it ten times as much, could not keep me; I must go back to fulfil my word to my partner out there, even if I returned at once."

"And you let him go, Jenny?"

"I must!" said Jenny. "And only think how different it is now! For the rest, whether he comes back for me at once, or some years hence, must depend on papa and mamma."

She spoke with grave content beaming in her eyes, just like herself.

The restoration was still swallowing up everything else.

CHAPTER XXXV Herbert's Christmas

And when the self-abhorring thrill Is past--as pass it must, When tasks of life thy spirit fill, Then be the self-renouncing will The seal of thy calm trust.--Lyra Apostolica

By Christmas Day Archie Douglas was in the Bay of Biscay; but even to Joanna it was not a sorrowful day, for did not Herbert on that day crawl back into his sitting-room, full dressed for the first time, holding tight by her shoulder, and by every piece of furniture on his way to the sofa, Rollo attending in almost pathetic delight, gazing at him from time to time, and thumping the floor with his tail? He had various visitors after his arrival--the first being his Rector, who came on his way back from church to give his congratulations, mention the number of convalescents who had there appeared, and speak of the wedding he had celebrated that morning, that of Fanny Reynolds and her Drake, who were going forth the next day to try whether they could accomplish a hawker's career free from what the man, at least, had only of late learnt to be sins. It was a great risk, but there had been a penitence about both that Julius trusted was genuine. A print of the Guardian Angel, which had been her boy's treasure, had been hung by Fanny in her odd little bedroom, and she had protested with tears that it would seem like her boy calling her back if she were tempted again.

"Not that I trust much to that," said Julius. "Poor Fanny is soft, and likes to produce an effect; but I believe there is sterling stuff in Drake."

"And he never had a chance before," said Herbert.

"No. Which makes a great difference--all indeed between the Publicans, or the Heathens, and the Pharisees. He can't read, and I doubt whether he said the words rightly after me; but I am sure he meant them."

"I suppose all this has done great good?" said Jenny.

"It will be our fault if it do not do permanent good. It ought,"

said Julius, gravely. "No, no, Herbert, I did not mean to load you with the thought. Getting well is your business for the present-- not improving the occasion to others."

To which all that Herbert answered was, "Harry Hornblower!" as if that name spoke volumes of oppression of mind.

That discussion, however, was hindered by Mrs. Hornblower's own arrival with one of her lodger's numerous meals, and Julius went off to luncheon. The next step on the stairs made Herbert start and exclaim, "That's the dragoon! Come in, Phil."

And there did indeed stand the eldest brother, who had obtained a few days' leave, as he told them, and had ridden over from Strawyers after church. He came in with elaborate caution in his great muddy boots, and looked at Herbert like a sort of natural curiosity, exclaiming that he only wanted a black cap and a pair of bands to be exactly like Bishop Bowater, a Caroline divine, with a meek, oval, spiritual face, and a great display of delicate attenuated fingers, the length of which had always been a doubt and marvel to his sturdy descendants.

"Hands and all," quoth Philip; "and what are you doing with them?"

as he spied a Greek Testament in the fingers, and something far too ponderous for them within reach. "Jenny, how dare you?" he remonstrated, poising the bigger book as if to heave it at her head.

"That's what comes of your encouraging followers, eh?"

"Ah!" said Jenny, pretending to dodge the missile, while Rollo exercised great forbearance in stifling a bark, "Greek is not quite so severe to some folks as dragoon captains think."

"Severe or not he might let it alone," said Phil, looking much disposed to wrest away the little book, which Herbert thrust under his pillow, saying--

"It was only the Lesson."

"Why can't you read the Lesson like a sensible man in its native English? Don't laugh, children, you know what I mean. There's no good in this fellow working his brain. He can't go up again before September, and according to the Bishop's letter to my father, he is safe to pass, if he could not construe a line, after what he did at Wil'sbro'. The Bishop and Co. found they had made considerable donkeys of themselves. Yes, 'tis the ticket for you to be shocked; but it is just like badgering a fellow for his commission by asking him how many facets go to a dragon-fly's eye, instead of how he can stand up to a battery."

"So I thought," said Herbert; "but I know now what it is to be in the teeth of the battery without having done my best to get my weapons about me."

"Come now! Would any of those poor creatures have been the better for your knowing

"How many notes a sackbut has, Or whether shawms have strings,"

or the Greek particles, which I believe were what sacked you?"

"They would have been the better if I had ever learnt to think what men's souls are, or my own either," said Herbert, with a heavy sigh.

"Ah! well, you have had a sharp campaign," said Phil; "but you'll soon get the better of it when you are at Nice with the old folks.

Jolly place--lots of nice girls--something always going on. I'll try and get leave to take you out; but you'll cut us all out!

Ladies won't look at a fellow when there's an interesting young parson to the fore."

Herbert made an action of negation, and his sister said--

"The doctors say Nice will not do after such an illness as this.

Papa asked the doctor there, and he said he could not advise it."

"Indeed! Then I'll tell you what, Herbs, you shall come into lodgings at York, and I'll look after you there. You shall ride Pimento, and dine at the mess."

"Thank you, Phil," said Herbert, to whom a few months ago this proposal would have been most seducing, "but I am going home, and that's all the change I shall want."

"Home! Yes, Ellen is getting ready for you. Not your room--oh, no!

but the state bedroom! When will you come? My leave is only till Tuesday."

"Oh! I don't know how to think of the drive," sighed Herbert wearily.

"We must wait for a fine day, when he feels strong enough," said Jenny.

"All right," said Phil; "but ten days or a fortnight there will be quite enough, and then you'll come. There are some friends of yours, that only looked at me, I can tell you, for the sake of your name--eh, Master Herbs?"

Herbert did not rise to the bait; but Jenny said, "The Miss Strangeways?"