Se
 
 KS.
 
 KATE SINCLAIR; 
 
 HOME 18 HOME. 
 
 D0me0tic 
 
 OF COTTAGE LIFE, 
 
 NEW-YORK : 
 A. A. KELLEY, PUBLISHER 
 
 1858.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, 
 
 By A. A. KELLEY, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of 
 New-York. 
 
 J. J. REED, PRINTER, 
 43 Centre Street
 
 KATE SINCLAIR; 
 
 OR, 
 
 HOME IS HOME, 
 
 ^-i ' 
 
 ^- v>_*_^.-
 
 14 AND if s trouble dimmed their golden joy, 
 'Twas ottward dross and not infused alloy; 
 Their Home knew but affection's look and speech, 
 A little Heaven above dissension's reach." 
 
 CAMPBELL 
 
 SMILES on past misfortune's brow 
 Soft reflection's hand can trace ; 
 And o'er the cheek of sorrow throw 
 
 A melancholy grace ; 
 While Hope prolongs our happier hour, 
 Or the deep shades, that dimly lower 
 And blacken round our weary way, 
 Gilds with a gleam of distant day." 
 
 GRAY. Cfde on
 
 HOME 15 HOME. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A COLD, foggy November afternoon had driven from 
 the foot-path nearly all the more respectable of the in- 
 habitants of street, which, as every one knows, 
 
 is the long sulurb by which London makes its exit on 
 
 the side of its busy thoroughfares. The shops 
 
 here are few, and of comparatively small importance ; 
 and the street, though still described as part of the 
 great Metropolis, has more the appearance and advan- 
 tages of a small country town. A tolerably good linen 
 draper's shop, a chemist's and a library with its com- 
 fortable reading and news-room, form its principal at- 
 tractions. Mr. Dalton's reading-room had for some 
 time been the resort of all the principal gentlemen in 
 that locality or within a mile of its influence, and here 
 might be heard much of the gossip of the neighbor- 
 hood. It was on this " cold, foggy November after- 
 noon," that an elderly gentleman was still lingering by 
 the fire in the corner of Mr. Dalton's shop ; the custom- 
 ers were nearly all gone, and in that part of the room
 
 8 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 which was devoted to the newspaper-readers, none re- 
 mained save the elderly gentleman we have mentioned, 
 and he seemed still unwilling to leave the blazing fire, 
 and face the cold and foggy air of the street. Mr. Dai- 
 ton called the shop-boy to " turn on the gas" and to put 
 coals on the fire : but it was evident that with all the 
 patient civility for which he was remarkable, he would 
 have been very glad to wish " Mr. Crosby" good evening 
 and retire to his own comfortable room within the shop, 
 where good, neat, pretty Mrs. Dalton, and his little 
 boy would gladly welcome him for his half-hour of 
 leisure ; but still Mr. Crosby lingered, looked into the 
 fire, and round the shop, then buttoned his coat and 
 felt for gloves, hovered over the fire, and departed not. 
 At length the good bookseller ventured to address him. 
 
 " Did you know anything, sir, of the gentleman at 
 whose house the sale is to take place to-morrow ?" 
 
 "Sale! hey? no, no, I don't know of any sale 
 whose is it, hey ?" ; .. 
 
 "At Belmont Villa, sir," replied Mr. Dalton, re- 
 spectfully. 
 
 Belmont Villa? Belmont fiddlestick ! ViUa indeed, 
 what ? three rooms and a garret, I suppose ! oh no, / 
 don't go to villas, not I !" 
 
 " Would you like to look at the bill, sir, it is on 
 that table, and I have promised to try to circulate 
 some." 
 
 " Bill, hey, yes, here, is this it ? Oh, oh, I see, I see ;" 
 and the gruff old man settled himself with spectacles 
 on nose to read the paper which had been offered him. 
 It ran in the ueual terms of a " Sale by Auction on the 
 Premises," &c. &o. ; and from tb'3 quality of the furni-
 
 HOMEISHOME. 9 
 
 ture mentioned it might seem to have belonged to peo- 
 ple of taste, if not of fortune. Pictures, drawings, a 
 piano, violoncello, &c.., &c., were among the articles 
 specified, and at each of these announcements the 
 churlish old man uttered an impatient " Pshaw." 
 Looking up at last, he said, 
 
 " Well, Mr. Dalton, and who are these blockheads 
 with all their nonsenses ?" Dalton smiled, but know- 
 ing Mr. Crosby of old, said, 
 
 " Their name is Sinclair : Mr. Algernon Sinclair 
 and his family, and I fear they have met with some 
 sad reverses, for I hear the sale is caused by an execu- 
 tion put in by one of their creditors." 
 
 At the name of Sinclair Mr. Crosby turned away 
 and looked into the fire, stirred it violently, and seemed 
 as if some emotion prevented his immediate reply ; in 
 a moment, however, he resumed his usual manner, and 
 even with increased tartness said, 
 
 " Algernon Sinclair indeed, who can wonder at his 
 fate with such an absurd name as that. Aris-to-cratic, 
 I suppose ; well, well, an execution, hey ? Serve them 
 right. A large family too, I daresay / never had a 
 large family." But here the querulous old man paused, 
 and something like a sigh escaped him. Then, taking 
 up a catalogue of the sale, he left the shop in haste, ut- 
 tering a brief and somewhat hoarse " Good night." 
 
 And now our friend the bookseller laughs and rubs 
 his hands with glee, and desiring " Jonas " to take care 
 of the shop, and call him if he should be wanted, he 
 opened the door which led from the shop, and closing 
 it behind him, found himself in his most snug and 
 comfortable of sittirg-rooms. where his pretty wife and .
 
 10 HOMEISHOME. 
 
 fine curly-headed boy of some three years old hailed his 
 entrance with delight. A bright fire, tea ready, and 
 the kettle sending forth its full puffs of steam, all an- 
 nounced that he had been for some time expected ; and 
 now his boy is on his knee ; his wife prepares his toast, 
 and he draws from his pocket the new number of 
 Dickens' last work, which is just come in : this is a 
 charming surprise to Mrs. ITalton, she calls him a 
 " dear good man," and they prepare for an hour of un- 
 mixed enjoyment, after a day of industry and careful 
 attention to their respective duties. 
 
 Meanwhile old Crosby descended the steps from the 
 reading-room, holding his handkerchief to his mouth, 
 and trying in vain to retain any portion of the warmth 
 he had been encouraging by Mr. Dalton's good fire ; in 
 fact, he was even more chilled, more cold, more cross 
 than he would have been had he not lingered so long 
 in the enjoyment of its comforts, and he finds it quite 
 needful to hasten his steps, and make the best of his 
 way to his home, which is at a distance of about half a 
 mile : arrived at last, he opens with a latch-key an iron 
 gate, which forms the centre of a long brick wall, and 
 passes through a sort of green, with a flagged path 
 leading straight up to a substantial brick house, having 
 two very white stone steps in front, which even in this 
 dirtiest of November days, still look as if they had only 
 just been whitened by the dexterous hands of the 
 housemaid. The knocker, too, is bright as gold, and 
 though evidently bearing the date of the last century, 
 still looks as new as the day it was first placed there. 
 Another latch-key admits the master of this most re- 
 spectable dwelling inf a warm and carpeted hall, with
 
 HOME IS HOME. 11 
 
 eome panels and ornaments, which also tell a tale of 
 the ancient times when these substantial buildings were 
 more common than in these days of lath and plaster 
 and outside appearance. A lamp was burning in this 
 entrance hall, and Mr. Crosby here deposited his hat 
 and over-coat, goloshes and comforter, then turned on 
 the right hand into a sort of study, which to him served 
 as his usual sitting-room : and oh ! what a comfortable 
 nice neat room it was, with its crimson cloth curtains 
 now carefully adjusted, its many-colored soft Persian 
 carpet, reminding one of all the pretty blue, crimson, 
 and golden shell sugar plums, which used so to delight 
 our color-loving, childish eyes. One side of the room 
 is occupied by a book-case of no modern date, with a 
 lattice of the brightest brass before it, enclosing many 
 hundred well-chosen volumes. Yes, and by the bright 
 gleam froi the wood fire, one may see such brilliant 
 new bindings, showing that good Mr. Dalton's shop has 
 not been visited in vain ; for our old friend likes an 
 amusing tale, when he seats himself by his fire in the 
 ^evening. His neat tea-table is set, and his arm-chair 
 with slippers and a boot-jack are placed by the fire ; 
 and, as he seats himself and holds out his cold hands 
 to warm them, a large tabby cat slowly rouses herself, 
 and stretches out her hind legs as if inclined to mea- 
 sure the length of the rug, then draws herself together, 
 as if trying to see how nearly she can reach the ceiling, 
 and with a faint miaw, takes a spring and seats herself 
 without ceremony on the extreme point of her master's 
 knee, close before the fire, and with as much quiet com- 
 posure as if she had not changed her position for the 
 last month. "Well, so you're come! are you? Whp
 
 12 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 sent for YOU?" but he strokes her softly, and Pussj 
 purrs merrily : the bell is now rung, and a nice, cheer- 
 ful, middle-aged housekeeper appears at the summons. 
 
 " Oh, I didn't hear you come in, sir ; would you like 
 your tea now ?" 
 
 " Hey ! Yes, of course I should ; and, Fairly, bring 
 candles first ; I am not an owl, I can't read in the 
 dark !" Fairly laughs as she goes out. " Oh dear ! 
 master is so funny ;" and she hastens to bring all that 
 will be wanted. First the candles in such bright, old- 
 fashioned silver candlesticks ; then the kettle, and a 
 silver muffin-plate with the hottest of muffins toasted 
 brown and crisp, and I wonder that it has not been 
 eaten already, it looks so tempting ; then another log 
 of wood is added to increase the blaze, and with, " I 
 hope you'll find all things to your liking, sir," Fairly 
 retires, and Mr. Crosby is alone. And what is it that 
 induces him instantly to rise, and leave all these com- 
 forts, and once more return to the hall ? Oh, he has 
 left something in his coat-pocket, the bill of the sale, 
 which he brought from Mr. Dalton's ; and with this i 
 his hand, once more he ensconces himself in his arm 
 chair, and begins to sip his tea and eat his muffin, 
 while he studies the catalogue before him ; and as he 
 considered all its contents, he occasionally made a 
 mark against some article, and grumbled forth such 
 sentences as these : " Nice time for a sale, great hopes 
 they must have of purchasers ! cold, and fog, and rain, 
 and dirt well, there'll be nobody there, that's one 
 comfort, and things will sell cheap. Ah, CHEAP ; well ! 
 I'll go; leVs see, let's see, 'a piano' I dare say, every 
 fool has 4 piano now ; however, they won't get much
 
 HOME IS HOME. 13 
 
 for that in this neighborhood, that's one comfort /' and 
 again the old man smiles, but there is no bitterness in 
 this smile, but more of quiet, sad remembrance, and 
 something like a tear glistens in his eye ; sadly he 
 rests his head upon his hand, his gruff churlishness is 
 thrown aside, and for a few moments his better genius 
 prevails. 
 
 Some time passes in contemplation and in reading: 
 he always retires early, and the evening is rapidly draw- 
 ing to its close: the tea-things have been long with- 
 drawn, but as Fairly knows her master's humor, she 
 has not interrupted the silence, perhaps sleepy doze, in 
 which she finds him each time that she has entered the 
 apartment. At nine o!clock Mr. Crosby rings a silver 
 bell, which has been standing by his side all the even- 
 ing, and Fairly brings, the night-candle, and then 
 wishes her master " a very good night," and leaves the 
 room, not on any pretence to dare again intrude herself 
 upon his privacy. Mr. Crosby sat a few moments in 
 perfect stillness, and then, having ascertained that the 
 gpervants are really gone to their respective rooms, he 
 locks and bolts the door of his study, and opens the 
 doors of the book-case we have described, and takes 
 down what appears to be a row of well-bound books, 
 but which in reality is an iron front of an iron safe, for 
 papers or other matters, and which is so beautifully 
 painted to represent Hume's History of England, that 
 no one could ever believe it to be formed of such heavy 
 and lasting material. From this iron chest the old man 
 takes out several bags containing money, and places 
 them, one by one, on the table below him ; then carefully 
 d sending from the high steps which have been formed
 
 14 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 by turning over his easy chair, he stands before these, 
 his earthly treasures : well will it be for thee, old man, 
 if they prove not to thee a hindrance to the attainment 
 of those heavenly treasures which do not rust or cor- 
 rupt ! . The old man looks at these bags with 
 tearful eyes : for when he first began to hoard his mon- 
 eys, all were intended for one he loved too dearly, and 
 now it has become a habit ; and he still hoards and 
 hoards, more and more, from year to year. At length 
 recalling his intention in seeking his treasures on this 
 particular evening, he selects one bag which bears in 
 large red figures on its surface, 100, and replacing all 
 others, and carefully closing the secret spring, he locked 
 the door of his book-case, deposited the bag which he 
 had selected in a carpet-bag, which he took from a 
 closet under the book-case, and carrying it in his hand, 
 ascended the stairs to his bedroom, muttering as he 
 went, " Things will be cheap, ah 1 VEE.Y cheap, no 
 doubt !" 
 

 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 \ND now, Laving wished Mr. Crosby " Good night," 
 we will leave him to lock himself into his comfortable 
 bedroom, and once more emerging into the street, we 
 will follow the young woman who is at this moment 
 passing by the wall which forms the boundary to his 
 grounds. She is young and active, and, with a basket 
 on her arm, and a loose brown cloak, with ample hood 
 banging behind, is hurrying through the streets at an 
 unusual pace for a person who is encumbered with pat- 
 tens, in addition to the burthen we have described. 
 Click clack, click clack, click clack, clickty clack, re- 
 sounds through the long street, unbroken by any other 
 sound, except the ringing of the last post-bell for the 
 evening, which is heard at intervals, all the distance of 
 that long suburb ; at length the pattens reach softer 
 ground, f,nd the click clack is much deadened, no longer 
 affording its exciting music to the now weary pedestrian : 
 she shifts her basket, and gathers her cloak round her, 
 and begins to wish she had " brought an umbrella," for 
 the fog is fast changing into a regular fall of small, soak- 
 ing rain, and she begins to fear she shall be wet to the 
 skin before she can reach her destination, and then " I'll 
 be bound that ill-mannered grate will have put the fire 
 out, bad c^=s to it." However, the weary distance is at
 
 16 x COME IS HOME. 
 
 length accomplished, and she reaches the little palisade, 
 which separates from the road the house which she ia 
 seeking ; but it is so dark, that, but for the white rails, 
 she would not have been able to see how nearly she had 
 reached the end of her weary walk. She turned in at 
 the large white gate, and then stooped to take off her 
 pattens, saying, " Oh, it's little use thinking of him, but 
 the master always hated the sight of them nasty patten 
 marks in the gravel, more by token he was angered, 
 oncet wi' me, I well minds, so I'll run no risks of vexing 
 him, God bless him :" and the good-natured creature 
 picked her way along the rough sides of the gravel- 
 walk which led to the house. A stone portico, sup 
 ported on two round pillars, formed the principal en- 
 trance, and to this the young woman directed her steps, 
 as here she could be sheltered from the rain till some 
 one from the house should come to admit her. She 
 rang, however, somewhat timidly, for she never before 
 had ventured to stop at the principal entrance; but the 
 bell was instantly, and as it would seem, gladly attended 
 to, and a light step was heard approaching the door 
 from within. " Honor, is that you ?" demanded a 
 young, clear, yet gentle voice. " Indeed, then, an it's 
 meself, Miss Kate, an I'm entirely kilt wi' the wet and 
 COM Id, so open the door quickly, and it's meself will tell 
 ye all about it." By this time the door was opened, 
 and a fair young girl of eighteen or thereabouts, stood 
 within its shelter, shading with her soft white hand the 
 light which she held so as to save it from extinction 
 by the sudden gust of wind and rain which greeted her 
 a -rival. 
 
 " Dear good Honor, I'm so glad you've come ; but
 
 HOMEISHOME. 17 
 
 how long you have been kept, and how wet and cold you 
 look ; but do not stand here, come into your kitchen, 
 where I have put some sticks to warm you. I have had 
 my tea, but you will find some ready for you." 
 
 " Oh, Miss Kate, my own sweet darlint Miss Kate, 
 is it yerself that has taken all this thrubble for me, as 
 isn't fit to hold a candle to the likes of ye ? the heav'ns 
 be your bed, and they will for sartain, for niver was yer 
 equal yet !" 
 
 " Hush, hush, my good Honor, or I shall think you 
 are quite bewildered with your sorrow and trouble. 
 But now tell me how are they, my dear, dear ones ? 
 How are they bearing this heavy trial, and without me 
 to help and assist them ? Is my dear papa better ? 
 and mamma, does she eat anything? and does she 
 look less sad ? Oh Honor ! tell me all, for I am in- 
 deed in grief and sorrow, more than I can well sup- 
 port." 
 
 " Why thin, my dear honored young lady, I am 
 thankful to tell you that they are all intirely as well 
 as you could expict, and poor masther is quiet and 
 calm, and the misthress well she do look pale, that's 
 sartain, but they took some of the wine you sent, and I 
 told them you would try to join them to-morrow, after 
 that thief of the world has finished the sale. Ohone, 
 ohone, I can't bear it ; oh, Miss, my heart will break ; 
 for how can I see ye all, that I love better than my 
 life, deprived of all your comforts : but oh, Miss Kate, 
 let me bide wi' ye to the last ! I can spin a little, and 
 who knows but the novelty may bring us some money 
 sometimes : bub I ask yer pardon, intirely, Miss ; it's 
 little that the 1 ies of me can do."
 
 18 HOME IS> HOME. 
 
 " My dear, good, faithful Honor, you can and do 
 comfort me ; and, at all events, till this sad business is 
 concluded, I shall be thankful to keep you near me ; 
 but as yet I know not what will be my dear papa's 
 arrangements afterwards : so now, dear Honor, go and 
 get your tea. and I, meanwhile, will finish m) prepara- 
 tion for to-morrow." Honor then walked sadly into 
 her kitchen, and there found a small but bright fire, 
 and her little meal ready ; for, as she said, " Thrubble's 
 niver so hard upon Miss Kate as to prevent her think- 
 ing of others." She now takes off the almost dripping 
 cloak, and shakes the straw bonnet, and then carefully 
 wipes it, as she stands before the fire to warm her be- 
 numbed fingers. While thus occupied, she raises her 
 head and listens, throws back the rather damp, black 
 curls from her face, and by the help of a bright blush, 
 looks really pretty ; for, albeit the nose is a thought 
 too much turned at the point, yet it only serves more 
 fully to bring into notice the full, rich mouth and pearly 
 teeth so commonly found among the Irish peasantry ; 
 her black eyes flash, too, as she hears Rory's well- 
 known tap at the little shutter of her window, and the 
 " "Whisht ! Rory, is that YOU ?" is instantly followed by 
 the unbolting of the door, for the sly puss knows that 
 " Rory it is," and she quite longs for a peep at his 
 good, kind face ; but she now cautions him not to make 
 a stir, for she says, " It isn't that I mind dear Miss 
 Kate's knowing of your coming, Rory dear, but may be 
 she might think it selash of me to feel so happy as the 
 sight of ye makes me, this weary night. Oh, Rory, my 
 poor, de ir masther ! I feel for him and all the family, 
 and my heart is too full intirely !" By this time Rory
 
 HOME1SHOME. 19 
 
 is seated, and trying to look as sad as his pretty Hon- 
 or ; but, though fully sympathizing with her, there is 
 still a slight twinkle of the bright eyes, and an almost 
 smile about the handsome mouth, which show that 
 Rory thinks he can in some measure allay the pain of 
 that dearly-loved and prized one's heart. He listens, 
 however, patiently, and Honor pours out a cup of tea 
 for him, and they look lovingly at each other, and 
 Honor is " quite ashamed" of feeling so comfortable on 
 this sad evening. At last poor Kory can no longer 
 keep his secret, and he draws near his mistress, and 
 takes her hand, and well, no matter. Honor scolds, 
 and Rory laughs, and then takes from his waistcoat 
 pocket a very small leathern purse, from which his 
 large finger and thumb at last draw themselves out, and 
 display, to Honor's great surprise, two golden sovereigns. 
 
 " Ah ! I knew you'd be tuck by surprise, me.dar- 
 lint ! but they are honestly arnt, and now say the word. 
 Honor dear, and I'll ' buy the ring,' and ye shall have 
 another home, where ye'll be loved and cherished, 
 though may be we'll not be able to provide all the com- 
 forts which you have had in this blessed house j but 
 I'll do my best, mavourneen ! and ye shall nivver have 
 to say, l Rory takes the dhrop too much ;' dearest 
 Honor, tell me all your wishes, and you shall have my 
 heart's blood, if it'll be doing ye good anyhow." 
 
 At first the girl listened with evident pleasure ; 
 her hand rested confidingly in that of her lover, and 
 she lowered her sweet face, that he might not read her 
 tell-tale eyes too plainly ; but a sudden thought in- 
 duces a change of position, and she throws hernelf sud 
 dcnly up< i her lover's shoulder.
 
 20 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 " Oh Rory, dear Rory, ye knows n.y heart, and yc 
 needs not for me to tell ye that it's all your own, and 
 none but ye shall ever be my husband, but it must not 
 be yet, dearest Rory ! Can I lave them as has nur- 
 tured and fed me all my orphan days, and trated me 
 like their own entirely ? Can I go and find comforts, 
 and pleasures, and lave them in their thrubble ? Ah, 
 ye wouldn't wish it ! for I should be entirely unworthy 
 of yer love, if I could do so 1" 
 
 Rory clasps the noble girl to his honest heart, and 
 smothering his feelings of sorrow and disappointment, 
 bursts forth into the strong, enthusiastic language of 
 his country, and showers every blessing that heart can 
 imagine upon the dear girl, of whom he is so justly 
 proud. When the first mixed feelings had a little 
 passed away, Honor, with many blushes for she is 
 very delicate on the subject of money matters, and has 
 much difficulty in bringing her lips to utter the wishes 
 of her heart, which have been suddenly excited by the 
 sight of such unaccountable riches as have been just 
 displayed ; the thought, however, that it must " just 
 be now or never" prevails so she bursts forth boldly 
 with a request, which at another moment she could not 
 have proposed. 
 
 " Dear Rory, what'll ye do with thim two bright 
 golden sovereigns, now that we don't need what ye 
 proposed to buy wid 'em ? Would ye ? oh, would ye 
 be here to-morrow and 'stow them in some way upon 
 that dear suffering angel, Miss Kate ; ohone ! an' 
 they've taken her purty desk, and her work-box, and 
 all her things, and put it all in that thief of a cat'logue, 
 and that'll she do without all her pretty presents and
 
 HOMEISHOME. 21 
 
 things ? Oil Rory ! I've saved a very little, and let us 
 see what we can do for her. "Will ye, dear ?" 
 
 Good, honest, kind Rory stands with tearful eyes, of 
 which fce is ashamed. Why ? but his generous heart 
 fully responds to Honor's wishes, and with a " God 
 bless ye, Honor ! don't fear but I'll be here, God wil- 
 ling," he bent his head, and squeezing poor Honor's 
 hand, he rushes from the house, and as he strides 
 rapidly down the road, ejaculates, " Oh, and isn't she 
 a darlint and an angel ! that she is j and when she is 
 mine, may be I shan't have the best wife in the king- 
 dom, let alone ould Ireland." 
 
 He is gone, and Honor still lingers where he left 
 her, and perhaps a little sigh escapes her as she thinks 
 how she has decided ; but it is only for one passing 
 moment, and then she hastily arranges her neat kitchen, 
 and taking her candle goes to seek " Miss Kate." The 
 vestibule is filled with articles prepared for the sale, 
 and ticketed with little round pieces of paper bearing 
 the marks of "Lot * * * * up to Lot * * * * *," and all 
 looks disordered and cheerless ; the stair carpets are 
 rolled up, and everything is marked to correspond with 
 the catalogue of the auctioneer. Honor slowly ascends 
 the staircase, and approaches the door of Kate's own 
 pretty sleeping-room; her timid knock rouses poor 
 Kate, who hastily effaces the marks of the sad tears 
 which have at length found vent, and opening the door 
 admits her kind and now only companion. Kate's room 
 has been left in its usual state, with the exception of 
 the lot tickets affixed to all the articles within it ; and 
 here, in this neatest of rooms, prepared by the express 
 direction of her dear, indulgent parents, poor Kate has
 
 22 HOME IS HO ME. 
 
 passed the last few hours of her stay in her once happy 
 home. / 
 
 " Well, my good Honor, do you want me now ? I 
 hope you have had your tea ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, Miss, thanks to yer goodness, but I am 
 vexed to think I've left ye so long by yerself." 
 
 " Never mind that, my good girl, and now tell me 
 all that you have done since we parted this afternoon." 
 
 " Why, Miss, I set out with an aching heart to find 
 my dear masther and misthress at the lodgings, and I 
 thought I'd niver get there ; for ye see, I was so impa 
 tient like, and I thought may be they'd not have cared 
 to prepare their dinner in a strange place'; so I just 
 hurried on for dear life, and at last I found the street, 
 and inquired as ye told me at Mrs. Crump's, the green 
 grocer, for Mr. Eveleigh's apartments; and she says, 
 ' Oh, I doubt ye mane Mr. Eveleigh's, as was ; -for some 
 strangers is cojae there now.' So I thought it was all 
 right, and I- told her yes, I believed they was the ex- 
 picted ones, and she showed me the way to a red brick 
 house, that looked as if it had once belonged to some 
 quality, and she tould me it was let now in rooms, and 
 there she left me ; and so I knocked at the door, and 
 who should be accidently in the passage but Masther 
 Charles ? for though I knocked once or twice I suppose 
 Masther Charles was busy or something, for he did 
 not open the door directly ; and when he seen me, he 
 eays, 'Oh, is it you, dear Honor?' O what a purty 
 way that dear boy spakes in, he has always a ' dear' or 
 a { good' or some kind word for poor Honor. Well, 
 Masther Charles shows me in, and up a wide old stair- 
 ease, and then up still higher; and, thinks I, is it in
 
 HOME IS HOME. 23 
 
 hiv'n intirely that they've had the manners to put the 
 likes of them ? I can't but say I was grieved to think 
 the masther should have so much thrubble every time 
 he wished to take the breath of air. However, I didn't 
 say aught, and all was forgotten when I seen them; the 
 dear little ones flew to me, and clung round my neck, 
 but I put them by, and made my humble curtsey to 
 my dear kind lady ; so she told me to come in, and 
 shut the door ; and thin I put down my basket, and I 
 says, ' Miss Kate sends ye some things, ma'am, and 
 she hopes you and masther will take some wine, and 
 she gives her love, and she will come to you after all is 
 settled, and hopes ye'r all comfortable.' But oh ! dear 
 Miss Kate, I couldn't bear it, and they all looking so 
 sorrowful ; and my foolish tares, which, bad manners to 
 them, always come when they're not wanted, flowed 
 down my cheeks, and I couldn't see at all at all : how- 
 iver, I conkered 'em, and I stooped down and opened 
 the basket, and took out the cold chicken you sent, and 
 the bottle o' wine, and thin I spread out the white cloth, 
 and tried to give it a genteel air. My dear mistress 
 looked on smiling, wid her own sweet kindly smile ; 
 och ! I wonder how any one can have the heart to harm 
 her, God bless her ! Well, anyhow, I made it all look 
 comfortable, an' I think the two little ones was hungry, 
 tho' they did'nt say so, and I'd a hard matter to keep 
 back thim fools of tares when I heard them telj. master 
 that they did'nt ' wish the chicken,' but ' only a bit of 
 the ham' and a ' potato.' Ah, Miss Kate, you've 
 schooled 'em well, and they are precious lambs in tho 
 sight of their Maker ! Well, I was glad to see yer 
 papa smile, and he said in his grand way, ' Thankee,
 
 24 HOME is HOME. 
 
 Honor, thankee, all very nicely done, but we will not 
 keep ye, for it'll be getting dark, so leave us now, and 
 tell Miss Kate we are all well, and shall hope to see 
 her to-morrow ;' so I asked my misthress if she had 
 anything to send, an' she told me to take back the 
 things they had yesterday ; and I wint into the passage 
 and packed my basket, for somehow I thought masther 
 was unaisy like, at my seeing what a sad revarse it all 
 was ; so I just wint in and made my curtsey to them 
 all, and set out on my way home, but it was nearly 
 dark and I missed my way, and got low and tired like, 
 aud I couldn't see a dacent person to ask the question 
 which way 'would I be going, and I thought I'd niver 
 get home. Well, at last I found myself all right, for I 
 earned out just opposite Mr. Dalton's shop, and Jonas 
 was putting up the shutters as the clock struck half 
 past something, which I knew must be eight, for that's 
 his hour for shutting up the shop ; and so I tuck heart 
 and got home quite safe, and right glad I was to find 
 myself under the portical, and to hear your own sweet 
 voice, Miss Kate." 
 
 'Poor Kate, with silence and in sadness, listened to 
 this first report of her dear parents state since their 
 separation on the preceding morning, when, with much 
 difficulty, she had prevailed on them to leave her with 
 Honor to finish the arrangements for the sale, and to 
 attend to anything which might arise, but she was, of 
 course, to seclude herself during the hours of the auc- 
 tion, and to join her parents as soon as it was concluded. 
 She now told Honor that she felt tired, and requesting 
 to be called at seven o'clock on the following morning, 
 he dismissed the kind-hearted girl, and locking the
 
 II O M I S H O M . 25 
 
 door of the room, approached the fire, and leaning on 
 the mautlepiece indulged for a few moments in the sad 
 thoughts which the account of the dearly loved party 
 had occasioned her ; but not long did sadness prevail, 
 for she thought, " Is not this sad trial sent from ' a 
 father's hand,' and can he err in his dealings with hia 
 children?" and deep and loving thoughts of Him, in 
 whom she trusted brought sweet peace to her heart ; 
 and she knelt down in her accustomed place beside her 
 little couch, and prayed for strength to meet the trials 
 which she saw approaching ; she asked not for their re- 
 moval, but for submission to the will of Him who sent 
 them ; and then she arose, calm and cheerful j nor did 
 she suffer herself to think of anything which would tend 
 to soften or excite her feelings. She felt comfort in 
 the reflection that she should be able to assist and sup- 
 port those she loved so dearly ; and for some time she 
 slept peacefully.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 WE must now take a slight retrospective glauce, and 
 give some account of the causes which had given rise to 
 the troubles and difficulties of the family we have thus 
 hastily introduced to our readers. Mr. Sinclair was the 
 youngest of three sons of a gentleman of fortune and 
 consideration in one of the northern counties, his fa- 
 ther and elder brother were devoted to field sports, and 
 spent most of their time in the field or on the race 
 course, leading a thoughtless, careless life, well pleased 
 that the young and gentle Mrs. Sinclair should be 
 too fond of her nursery and its little Retted inmates 
 to claim much of their time and attention. Mr. Sin- 
 clair had been twice married, and Henry, or as he was 
 generally called, Harry, was the son of his first wife j 
 and as Mr. Sinclair remained a widower for some years, 
 there was much difference in age between Harry and 
 the two little lx>ys who now claimed their young mo- 
 ther's care. The second Mrs. Sinclair was young and 
 portionless, and Mr. Sinclair, in giving her a comfort- 
 able home and handsome appointments, thought he had 
 fulfilled all that was required of him, and he made no 
 provision for these younger children, but trusted to giv- 
 ing them the means of following a profession worthy of 
 their station in life, w!ier they should attain the proper
 
 H O M E j H O M E . 27 
 
 age. Thus they were left to the guidance aud teaching 
 of their gentle mother, who, though well qualified to 
 give them a taste for all the refinements and elegancies 
 of life, and to lead them into a love for all that was 
 truly good and excellent, was little calculated to give 
 to their minds that vigor and" firmness which in the 
 manly character is so indispensable. 
 
 Ernest, the eldest of her two boys, soon evinced a 
 most decided contempt for all petticoat government ; 
 and having wearied the strength and spirits of both 
 " nurse" and " mamma," was one morning sent off to a 
 regular boy's school, much to his delight , while little 
 Algernon, in his soft vest of .green velvet, was left to 
 meet all the petting and indulgence of his quiet loving 
 mother. And well did slie her -duty as far as she un- 
 derstood what was needful, instructing him in every re- 
 ligious and moral duty, and as he grew older, gladly 
 cultivating in him a love for those arts to which she was 
 herself devoted; and never did- she feel so pleased, as 
 when seated at her drawing-table, with all her elegant 
 appliances around her, she worked in silence at some 
 lovely miniature of her darling boy ; or copied in oils, 
 some of the really fine paintings which adorned the 
 mansion of which she was the mistress. On these oc- 
 casions, the little Algernon, with his drawiug-'book and 
 pencil, was only too happy to stand by her side, and try to 
 copy " dear mamma," and to see " dear mamma" smile 
 and look pleased when he had perpetrated some cat with 
 a dog's head, or haystack with a chimney on the top of it. 
 Thus, as time went on, a love of drawing was- instilled, 
 and as his mother was also passionately fond of music, 
 little Algernon was soon instructed in this art also : at
 
 XO HOMEISHOME. 
 
 six years old he could play many airs both on the piano 
 and violin ; and when, at the age of eight, he was seen 
 standing on a raised step by his mamma's side, and play- 
 ing easy accompaniments to her beautiful piano move- 
 ments, even the rough Mr. Sinclair would clap him on 
 the shoulder, and pronounce him " quite a prodigy !" 
 In this way time fled, and Algernon was still under his 
 mother's sole care, when, at fourteen, he was called upon 
 to soothe and comfort her through a long and painful 
 illness which terminated in rapid consumption ; so 
 that, although Mr. Sinclair had said that it was high 
 time for Algy to go to school, it was impossible to re- 
 move him while his precious mother so much required 
 his presence ; and a tutor was therefore provided for 
 him. About this time Ernest left school, and as he had 
 shown for some time a great desire to go abroad, Mr. 
 Sinclair procured a cadetship for him ; and giving him 
 his outfit, and having lodged 500 for him in a banker's 
 hands at Calcutta, he saw him safely on board an East 
 Indiarnan ; and telling him that when next they met he 
 should expect to see him " rolling in riches," he tried to 
 smile as he shook him by the hand for the last time ; 
 but, as the smile proved a failure, he hastily brushed 
 ' from his eyes some " fog" or " rain" which blinded him, 
 and announcing that he had " a horrid cold," rushed 
 from the deck, and quickly ensconced himself in the 
 boat which awaited his return to the shore ; and the 
 parting was over. 
 
 We will now pass by four or five years of Algernon 
 Sinclair's life, only stating that he lost his dear mother 
 when he was about fifteen, a* d that he then was per- 
 mitted to keep his tutor witl* him. as his father, who
 
 HOME IS HOME. 29 
 
 hated all trouble, rather liked Mr. Upton, tie tutor, 
 and thought the house would be dull without him and 
 Algy. So time passed, and at eighteen Mr. Sinclair told 
 Algernon that it was now quite time that he should 
 decide on his future course ; and as his education had 
 not prepared him either for the church or any other 
 learned profession, it remained only for him to decide 
 whether his destination should be the army or the 
 navy, as he knew of no other means of providing for 
 him. Algernon 'immediately decided on the former, 
 and his father lost no time in securing for him a com- 
 mission in a regiment. Shortly afterwards this regi- 
 ment was ordered to Ireland, and remained there for 
 some years. We will not follow Algernon all through 
 his military career ; suffice it that, at five-and-twenty,he 
 was addressed as " Captain Sinclair," and that, shortly 
 after, he married a ve^y lovely and accomplished g'rl, 
 
 who resided with her widowed mother in , where 
 
 the regiment had been stationed for about two years ; 
 and, though his bride had little save her beauty and 
 bright virtues to bring with her as her dowry, yet 
 with care and frugality they hoped to dt) well, and they 
 were truly happy. Emily was as fond of the arts as 
 her husband could wish ; he would hang over her chair 
 and watch the progress of those fairy fingers, while 
 pointing or copying some of "dear Algernon's oweet 
 drawings," and her husband's violoncello " is such a 
 support," and he " does play so sweetly," that Algernon 
 is quite enticed into passing almost all his time with 
 her ; and his heart returns to the time when his dear, 
 his beloved mother, was his companion and tLj en- 
 couraging instructress of her children. For a few rears 
 2*
 
 30 .HOME IS HOME. 
 
 it may be believed the Sinclairs were happy people, 
 devoted to each other, and to amusements harmless in 
 themselves when kept under due restraint, but sapping 
 the energies and softening those powers of the mind 
 which would lead to active exertion. At the end of 
 two years, the birth of a little daughter was hailed with 
 the truest joy and gratitude, and the little Kate now 
 became the charm of their existence ; but when an- 
 other, and yet another little claimant on his care hailed 
 him by the name of father, poor Algernon became in 
 some measure alarmed for the future means of pro- 
 viding for so large a family ; and servants were one by 
 one dismissed, Emily was obliged to be much in her 
 nursery, and anxieties crept into the hearts of both the 
 parents. 
 
 It was at this time that the services of a middle- 
 aged Irish woman, of the name of Judith Cassidy, were 
 accepted as " servant of all work," and Captain and Mrs. 
 Sinclair retired into a very small cottage, determining 
 to live for each other only, and to give up all visiting 
 and other causes of expense. Kate was now six yecud 
 old, and as Mrs. Sinclair had three younger children, 
 it was needful to consider Kate as " quite grown up ;" 
 thus, at an early age, she was accustomed to be useful, 
 and considerate of the comforts of others. Judith 
 Cassidy was a widow, and as she had a little girl to 
 provide for, she was truly glad to accept Mrs. Sinclair's 
 offer, and to come with 1 her little " Honor" to take the 
 entire superintendence and business of the already 
 large family. Honor was clever, and her mother made 
 her useful in many ways ; for though only ten years 
 old, she was quick and shrewd in short, a true speci-
 
 HOME1SHOME. 31 
 
 men of an Irish woman in miniature. Active and 
 lively, Mrs. Sinclair found her eminently useful in 
 assisting to amuse the younger children, while she was 
 herself engaged in other affairs ; the little menage of 
 her cottage required fc much forethought and arrange- 
 ment, to make their present mode of life at all toler- 
 ahle to her fastidious, though ever kind and affection, 
 ate husband ; her evenings she still devoted to him, 
 and as they had retained their piano and his violoncello, 
 they passed many very happy hours, while the little 
 ones slept in safety, guarded by the faithful, kind Irish 
 woman and her libtle girl. Thus two years glided by, 
 and, as in each other they ever found companionship 
 and sympathy, the little trials produced by straitened 
 circumstances were but little felt, and for each other's 
 sake were quietly and even nobly borne. Algernon 
 was unwilling to apply to his father or brother for 
 assistance, lest they should ridicule his somewhat ro- 
 mantic and imprudent marriage ; and this induced him 1 
 also to withhold from all his other friends in England 
 the knowledge of his difficulties. At the end of about 
 three years. Captain Sinclair was unexpectedly re- 
 lieved from this state of almost poverty, as at that time 
 old Mr. Sinclair died, and Algernon, to his great sur- 
 prise, found that his father had left the greater part of 
 his private property to himself and Ernest, who was 
 still in India. This was indeed a happy occurrence for 
 the poor Sinclairs ; and Algernon immediately decided 
 on selling his commission, and then returning to Eng- 
 land to seek some comfortable and eligible home near 
 London as he thought he should there find it more 
 easy to give his children a good education, and to
 
 32 HOMEISHOME. 
 
 provide himself with the means of indulging his favor 
 ite tastes and pursuits. About this time, too, a maiden 
 aunt of Mrs. Sinclair's died, and left her a considerable 
 sum of money ; so that, compared with their former 
 difficulties, they might now be considered affluent, and 
 they imagined that 800 a year would secure for them 
 every comfort, and even luxury. As soon as possible, 
 then, they left Ireland, taking with them poor Judith 
 and little Honor; and very soon Mr. Sinclair took, 
 on a long lease, a really pretty villa > as it was called, 
 near Brompton, furnishing it handsomely, and adding 
 many comforts : a bath room, a pretty conservatory, 
 and many other almost luxuries ; and here for several 
 years they were very happy. 
 
 Numerous servants, and a most efficient governess, 
 now relieved Mrs. Sinclair from all necessity for exer- 
 tion, and she was only too happy to pass the whole of 
 her time in seeking to conduce to the amusement of her 
 husband ; and a life of ease and self-indulgence ill 
 prepared them for the reverse of fortune which awaited 
 them. His affairs were left too much to the care of 
 Others, and the income, which both had thought so 
 ample, scarcely provided all the comforts and indul- 
 gences which they now required. Charles was now at 
 an age when it was necessary to send* him to school ; and 
 here was a new source of expense. Kate's excellent 
 governess was fully competent to instruct the girls in 
 all useful matters, but it was proper that Kate should 
 have also the advantage of masters for music, drawing, 
 and languages : thus, year by year, expenses grew, but 
 the income did not increase. A clear investigation of 
 their expenditure had convinced Mr. Sinclair that they
 
 HOME IB HOME. 33 
 
 were living beyond their means, though with care and 
 some retrenchment, he believed they might free them- 
 selves from embarrassment : yet it was difficult to de- 
 termine which should be the luxury to be dispensed 
 with. Still trifling efforts were made ; Kate was six- 
 teen, so the governess was dismissed, and Kate under- 
 took to teach sweet Emily and the little "pet Kosa" 
 herself: one or two servants were also dispensed with, 
 and Honor found herself exalted to the situation of prin- 
 cipal housemaid, though as she still remained as " Irish" 
 in her speech as ever, Mrs. Sinclair did not like her to 
 be as much with the young ladies as poor Honor wished, 
 and there was still a 'young English servant retained 
 to wait on " Miss Kate" and attend to the school-room. 
 By all these little arrangements Mr. Sinclair found, at 
 the end of a year and a half, that he had so far regulated 
 his expenses as to bring his debts within compass, and 
 he hoped in a short time to be once more free from pe- 
 cuniary difficulties, more painful than any others to an 
 honorable mind. In all their anxieties Kate was ai- 
 lowed the high privilege of their entire confidence ; 
 and, young as she was, she was able frequently to aid 
 them by her judicious suggestions; and, by her constant 
 ey.crtions, she prevented any additional trouble or fatigue 
 from falling on her dearly loved mother, who was at 
 this time in a very delicate state of health ; and well 
 was she rewarded for all her excellent conduct, when she 
 received from her dear parents their smiles of approba- 
 tion, and saw them deriving comfort from her efforts. 
 
 But a heavy blow awaited this lovely family. Mr. 
 Sinclair had placed the whole of his property in the 
 hand 3 f a banker, who had always been considered as
 
 34 HOMEISHOME. 
 
 a man of the highest probity and integrity, but who 
 had been for some time past suspected as rather a spe- 
 culator ; and one morning, at breakfast, a letter was 
 put into Mr. Sinclair's hand, from his solicitor, in which, 
 in very guarded terms, he spoke of " rumors " which 
 were afloat on the subject of embarrassments which had 
 occurred to this banker, from the loss of some railway 
 shares, and advising his friend Mr. Sinclair to use ex- 
 ertions instantly to rescue his property. The advice 
 came too late ; everything was done that was possible, 
 but the banker's name appeared the next day iri the 
 Gazette, and the poor Sinclairs were irretrievably ruin- 
 ed ; as not only had they lost the whole of their pro- 
 perty, but those debts which Algernon was really 
 striving and intending to liquidate speedily, where still 
 in array against him, and must swallow up nearly the 
 whole that he could realize by ths sale of everything 
 which belonged to bim. 
 
 We will not dwell upon the sad scene of distress 
 which followed. A sale was instantly decided upon ; 
 servants were dismissed, and all but the faithful Honor 
 left them. It was now that the firmness and energy of 
 Kate's character were first fully developed, she soothed, 
 comforted, and devised by turns, and devoted all the 
 energies of her young and active mind to assist her 
 parents in forming and deciding on their future plans. 
 She reminded her father that he had a firm, though 
 somewhat humble friend, an artist, whom he had once 
 saved from great difficulties, and of his having once 
 taken them to see a curious old house of his which was 
 then uninhabited ; and she said she felt assured that, if 
 it were still un+enai f .ed. Mr. Eveleigh would lend it to
 
 H O M E I S H O M E . 35 
 
 them until they could make some better and more com- 
 fortable arrangement. As this really did seem prob- 
 able, aud as Mr. Sinclair could think of no other plan 
 by which he could ensure a temporary home for the 
 dear ones around him, he wrote to his friend immedi- 
 ately, and very soon received a most kind and almost 
 affectionate letter from Mr. Eveleigh, in which he told 
 him, however, that he was sorry to say all the lower 
 part of the house in question was at present occupied ; 
 the ground floor had been long the residence of hia 
 maiden aunt, a Scotch lady, and her servant ; the first 
 floor was also let, but he believed.for a short time only; 
 (here was still vacant the 4i Studio," as he used to call 
 it, and one or two small rooms 011 the same floor, and 
 if in any way, or for any purpose, Mr. Sinclair could 
 use them, he was more than welcome to take them into 
 his possession. This letter contained many kia'd ex- 
 pressions of regret for Mr. Sinclair's misfortunes, and 
 an earnest wish that the writer could in the smallest 
 degree contribute to the comfort or advantage of his 
 former benefactor. 
 
 After much deliberation, it was determined that 
 the family should all find shelter in the poor abode thus 
 kindly offered, and seclude themselves from all obser- 
 vation till the sale had taken place, and some plan could 
 be decided upon for their future subsistence. With a 
 sad heart poor Kate made all the needful preparations 
 for their departure. Nothing was omitted, and the 
 little ones were dismissed with very many cautions to 
 be considerate, and give no trouble ; and they, with 
 trembling eagerness, had assured dear " Katie" that 
 they would " try to take care of dear papa and mamma"
 
 36 HOMEISHOME. 
 
 till she could once more be by their side ; and then 
 Honor came, and led them down to join their parents, 
 telling them, as they for the last time descended the 
 stairs, that " sure she would come and see them to- 
 morrow, and they would be all as happy as birds :" but 
 the poor girl had no joy in her voice, and the wondering 
 children could not think why everybody seemed so un- 
 happy. Poor Kate watched the receding carriage which 
 conveyed her sad and sorrowing parents from their 
 once happy home, and when they were really gone, she 
 returned to her own little bed-room, and closing the 
 door, knelt for a long time in silent prayer to ^that 
 heavenly Father who doth not willingly afflict his chil- 
 dren, and she felt that doubtless this was a needful 
 trial of their faith. She humbly prayed for strength 
 and patience to meet " her Father's" will in this and 
 every trial, and arose strengthened and refreshed, and 
 calling the faithful Honor to assist her, employed her- 
 self busily and usefully all that day and the next in 
 preparing everything that was necessary for the sale, 
 which was to take -place on the morning of the third 
 day fron the time of the departure of her parents.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IT was still dark, and a thick, cold misty rain was fall- 
 ing, rendering everything, both within and without the 
 house, damp and cheerless, when Honor, in obedience to 
 her young lady's directions on the preceding evening, 
 approached with gentle steps her chamber-door, hoping 
 she might yet be sleeping, and in such case determining 
 not to awaken her. She listened attentively for a mo- 
 ment, when, on hearing Kate in her cheerful voice de- 
 mand who was waiting, she entered and said, " It's me, 
 Miss Kato, and I've taken the liberty of bringing ye 
 some warm tay, an' a little thrifle of toast, for it's kilt 
 ye'd be entirely wid the cowld of this dark onchristian- 
 like riorning, fetchin ye up before there's a light in the 
 hivens, when it's pouring the drizzling rain is, and 
 there's fog enough to choke ye ; so now I hope, my 
 dear young lady, ye'll try to ate a bit, and kep the 
 cowld from yer heart." Kate rewarded her kind at- 
 tendant with a smile, and readily accepted the offered 
 refreshment, for she felt how very needful it was to use 
 everj means of strengthening herself, and preparing for 
 the painful duties which she knew awaited her. Whilst 
 she sat up in her little bed to take her tea, Hono* 
 lighted the fire, and its cheerful blaze soon dissipated 
 the gloom and darkness of the chamber, and sent a
 
 33 HOME IS HO ME, 
 
 feeling of almost cheerfulness into the hearts of its 
 young inmates. While Honor was thus occupied, Kate 
 said, " How very kind and thoughtful it was of you, 
 my good Honor, to think of bringing me this nice 
 breakfast, and without direction, too ! it was really very 
 considerate of you :" and Kate's kind face was turned 
 towards her young attendant with an approving smile 
 
 Honor paused in her employment ; then, standing 
 up, with her bright sunny face glowing with enthusiasm, 
 she said. " Oh, Miss Kate, is it kind ye think me ? 
 And whare will I have larnt sich a lesson, but only from 
 yer own sweet self? Who was it that cam to my bed- 
 side, an I thin but a bit of a girl in the house, and stood 
 by me, an comforted me iu my thrubble and sorrow, the 
 saddest day of all my life, and spoke the swate words 
 of Christian consolation ? An when ye seen me com- 
 forted like, ye brought me the warm wine and the bit o 5 
 bread, and niver left me, till ye seen me sink into the 
 quiet sleep, and for a time forget my dear kind mother, 
 that had just been taken to glory ! May .the Lord rest 
 her soul in hivvin ! Amen. Sure I'd be worse nor 
 the bastes of the 'arth, could I iver forgit that day, or 
 forsake ye, if I could be allowed the blessing of -being 
 near ye !" 
 
 Tkls sudden burst of gratitude, so tenderly express- 
 ed, for a trifling kindness, which had long since passed 
 from Kate's memory, occasioned her some emotion; but, 
 thinking it better to avoid any further excitement of 
 her feelings, at a moment when she required all her 
 firmness and energy, she gently dismissed Honor, tell- 
 ing her that she must now go, and get her own break- 
 fast, as doubtless there would be some arrivals of peo-
 
 HOMEISHOME. OV 
 
 pie wishing to inspect the furniture", as soon as it was 
 sufficiently light for them to do so. Honor therefore 
 departed, and Kate, having hastily made her morning 
 toilet, quietly seated herself, and sought by reading 
 and prayer, to fit herself for the trials of the coming 
 day. She then wrote to her dear parents, assmmg them 
 that she was well, and cheerful, and quite equal to all 
 her duties, &c., &c. At nine o'clock, Honor came to 
 tell her that a gentleman wished to speak to her in the 
 library. She instantly obeyed the summons, and to 
 her great and pleased surprise, found Mr. Pleydeil, her 
 father's solicitor, waiting to receive her. He came for- 
 ward with a calm and business-like manner, and as- 
 sumed as much as possible his usual demeanor and ad- 
 dress ; bowed to Miss Sinclair, and asked for her fam- 
 ily ; but he was evidently agitated, shocked at the state 
 of the house, and pained at beholding the sad change 
 which had taken place since he had last been seated by 
 Mr. Sinclair's side in that once comfortable room. Mr. 
 Pleydeil was a very worthy, kind-hearted man, and it 
 was with much feeling that he explained to Kate that, 
 but for his unavoidable absence, occasioned by business 
 which had detained him in Ireland, he should have be- 
 fore offered his services in the arrangement of Mr. Sin- 
 clair's affairs. And he now begged her to allow him as a 
 friend to make himself useful in any way that would 
 most relieve her from fatigue and trouble. Kate 
 thankfully accepted this kind offer, and explained to 
 Mr. Pleydeil, that, in consequence of her dear mother's 
 great indisposition, she had prevailed on her father to 
 accompany her t<5 their lodgings, and to allow her and 
 a servant to remain in the house, in -case her presence
 
 40 HOME IS HOME 
 
 should be necessary : but she added, " I do not intend 
 to leave my room during the time of the sale. And I 
 really shall feel much obliged, if you will stay here for 
 a few hours, and release me from responsibility." 
 
 " That I will do with the greatest pleasure, my dear 
 young lady, and I hope I shall hear that you are taking 
 care of yourself and avoiding all unnecessary fatigue, 
 for you look sadly pale and worn." 
 
 At parting, Mr. Pleydell offered his hand to Kate, 
 and she gratefully returned its kind and friendly pres- 
 sure, for her little interview with him had greatly 
 cheered and comforted her, and she returned to her 
 room with a heart lightened of much of its anxiety. 
 On the stairs she passed a singular-looking old gentle- 
 man ; he was dressed in a brown great-coat, with a 
 great deal of velvet collar and cuff, and an immense 
 amount of .comforter and collar about his throat : he 
 had a gold-headed stick in his hand, and a hat which 
 was rather lower in the crown and broader in the brim 
 than was generally worn by gentlemen even of his age ; 
 his hair, which was of silvery whiteness and of unusual 
 length, fell in soft curls, and partially concealed his 
 still fine contour and features ; he was most scrupu- 
 lously neat, and having laid aside his goloshes at the 
 entrance door, his shoes were bright and shining as 
 when they h.ad been placed by the fire of his morning 
 room ; his step was slow and his head bent as if in pain- 
 ful thought, but, on hearing Kate's light step on the 
 stairs behind him, he turned, and looking at her earn- 
 estly with his dark, bright, eagle eyes, he said, " Oh ! 
 Miss Sinclair, I suppose ? I am lot an intruder here, 
 young lady, hey ? I suppose I can see this^villa, hey ?
 
 HOMEISHOME. 41 
 
 can't I ?' His rough voice and short abrupt manner 
 alarmed poor Kale, and her before pale cheeks were 
 lighted by a sudden flash of crimson, as she listened to 
 the churlish stranger's address ; yet no feeling of anger 
 or hasty pride dictated her answer ; she saw and felt, in 
 an intrant, that albeit rough in manner, this was a gen- 
 tleman, and one whose years demanded respect ; and 
 allowance was instantly made in her candid mind for 
 his defects of manner : kindly assuring him, therefore, 
 that he was quite at liberty to see any part of the 
 house, and calling Honor, who was in the vestibule be- 
 low, she told her to accompany the stranger, and passed 
 on to her own little room. 
 
 The old gentleman, however, gazed after her, and 
 uttered some short and apparently cross and rough re- 
 mark, which affronted Honor most thoroughly, and it 
 was with a hasty step and flashing eye that she brushed 
 by him in order to open the door of the first room at 
 the right hand on the landing : this was a very nice 
 and comfortably arranged sleeping-apartment, and had 
 a dressing-room within. Every thing was good and 
 handsome of its kind, but even the churlish Mr. Crosby 
 did not detect aught that bespoke a jnere idle taste for 
 luxury or expenditure : he staid not long, however, 
 here, and silently he followed Honor as she preceded 
 him from room to room, and waited while he from time 
 to time marked the catalogue which he held in his 
 hand. This silence in some measure tended to allay 
 poor Honor's too hasty anger, and " afther all," thought 
 she, " p'raps I might mistake his intintion, for he's 
 likely to be a good purchaser, anyhow." They now pro- 
 ceeded down a light passage leading from the principal
 
 42 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 sleeping-apartments, at the end of which Honor threw 
 open a door ; but it was more than her kind heart could 
 bear, to see this room approached by strangers' steps, 
 and on such an errand j it was the room which had 
 always been known as ' the nursery," and here, in their 
 two little snow-white beds, she had been used each night 
 to gaze on the loved faces of the two sweet darlings who 
 were so very dear to her, and now, as she thought, "per- 
 haps they will not Have where to lay their sweet, inno- 
 cent heads," the thought quite "overpowered her, and 
 covering her face with her hands, regardless of the pre- 
 sence of the rough stranger, she burst forth in the lan- 
 guage of her country, and in a sort of wailing voice she 
 said, " Ochone, thin my precious ones, you're gone ! and 
 the stranger will take possession, and it's yer home 
 that'll be rendered dissolate ochone ! ochone !" and 
 the sobs which impeded further utterance gave evi- 
 dence of the strong affection and sorrow which had 
 occasioned this passionate outbreak of feeling. 
 
 For a few moments her companion was silent, only 
 ejaculating an occasional " Pshaw !" " Ridiculous !" 
 " Absurd !" and walking hastily to the window, he pre- 
 tended to "be looking out at the view ; perhaps he par- 
 ticularly admired and liked a murky atmosphere, and 
 thought the thick, yellow fog quite suitable to the occa- 
 sion, for he did not turn his head for some time ; he 
 felt it cold, too, at all events, for his handkerchief was 
 more than once in requisition. However that might be. 
 he spoke in his usual churlish, gruff voice, when he said, 
 " Come, come, foolish girl ! don't cry, don't make a 
 scene, for / hate all scenes. What, hey ? you liked 
 these foolish people. I suppose, hey?"
 
 HOME IS HO ME. 43 
 
 Poor Honor checked her tears, and said, "Ah ! is 
 it liked, ye ask ? Ay, may be I did, but I love thim 
 now in my heart's core, so now don't be thrubbling me 
 wid the questions ; for I'm ready and able to attind 
 ye, and I ask yer pardon intirely, for I'm always sadly 
 bothered wid thiin tazing tares." 
 
 All this time Honor was leading him as quickly as 
 possible from the scene of her distress, and conducting 
 him up another flight of stairs, where several inferior 
 rooms were passed without remark; till, at the farthest 
 corner of the house, as far removed as possible from tue 
 rooms occupied by the family, she suddenly turned 
 round and said, " In here, sir, plaze ; this is Masther 
 Charles' own workshop, an' I thought as ye seemed 
 curious like, p'raps ye might like to see some of his in- 
 genuity." 
 
 The- room they entered was a small one, and lighted 
 from above by a skylight ; it was evidently the favor- 
 ite resort of some young and ingenious boy, who in his 
 leisure hours devoted his time to mechanical and even 
 scientific pursuits. An electrical machine, a turning 
 lathe, an apparatus for chemical experiments ; and a 
 carpenter's bench, with tools, formed some of the con- 
 tents of this room, which bore on its door a large white pla- 
 card inscribed, " Charles' Den ; none admitted here except 
 on particular business." Again Honor's courage had 
 nearly failed her, but she made a sudden dart at the 
 card on the door, and hastily tearing it down pushed it 
 into her pocket, hoping it had escaped the stranger's 
 notice, for, as she afterwards said, " I left it there un- 
 knownst, bad manners to me, that I'd let the stranger 
 gee the dear boy's little droll ways." She need not,
 
 44 HOME 18 H OMB. 
 
 however, have given herself this trouble, for Mr. 
 Crosby's eagle eye had seen and read the inscription ; 
 and again he had found it " very cold." At this moment 
 Honor was loudly called, but she would not hear till 
 she had exhibited more than one pretty specimen of 
 Charles' skill in the use of his little turning lathe ; a 
 pretty box which she took from her pocket, and which, 
 she said, was a present to her from " Master Charles," 
 and a little set of unfinished chessmen which were in- 
 tended for his mother, but being left in a box with other 
 matters bore the fatal lot mark, were all she could find ; 
 and, on hearing herself again called, she asked Mr. Cros- 
 by if he could find his way down stairs, as she must 
 " run for her dear life," and left him alone to inspect 
 whatever else he might deem worthy of notice. He 
 stood some time in silent contemplation, and a heavy 
 sigh escaped him ; but, rousing himself by a sudden 
 effort, he denounced himself as an " old fool, ridiculous 
 and childish," and hastily left the room, muttering as 
 he went, " Oh ! ah ! yes ! all right I dare say, but why 
 3o people indulge their children in all their whims in 
 this way ? Nonsense ! nonsense !" 
 
 Having by this time reached the first landing-place, 
 he looked about, and seeing a door partly opened, he 
 said, " I don't think I saw that room just now, let's 
 see, let's see ;" and with the end of his walking stick 
 he pushed the door in question back to its farthest 
 limits ; but to his great surprise he saw that it was not 
 prepared for the inspection of the public, like the other 
 parts of the house, but bore every mark of being oc- 
 cupied as usual by some member of the family. A 
 bright fire burnt in the grate, and on the rug before it
 
 HOME IS HOME. 45 
 
 lay a beat.tiful small Italian greyhound ; a pretty writ- 
 ing-table was drawn up close to the fire, and by its side 
 was placed a little ornamental chair of light materi^. 
 An elegantly furnished French bed stood on the fur- 
 thest side of the room, and a pretty small-patterned 
 Brussels carpet covered the floor ; the walls were papered 
 with a white watered paper, and a small gold mould- 
 ing ran round the top of the room next the ceiling ; 
 some clever drawings in water colors, books in a small 
 chiffonier, and many other useful and ornamental ap- 
 pointments gave to this room a remarkable air of 
 comfort, and excited much curiosity in the mind of its 
 intruding visitor ; and when Kate's silvery voice was 
 heard, speaking in a low tone to Honor, and immediately 
 followed by her entering the room, and walking forward 
 to her writing-table without perceiving that her apart- 
 ment was pre-occupied, the old gentleman felt quite 
 abashed at his intrusion, and knew not how to call her 
 attention to his presence without startling her ; in a 
 moment, however, she looked up, and seeing a stranger, 
 felt inclined to retrace her steps and leave the room ; 
 but Mr. Crosby said, with some warmth, " Young lady, 
 I beg your pardon, I ought not to be here," and bowing 
 with really polite and gentlemanly courtesy, he left the 
 room. 
 
 This would be an excellent opportunity for describ- 
 ing our young heroine's appearance, but as no two per- 
 sons agree as to what is pleasing, pretty, or even pre- 
 possessing, we dismiss the subject, and leave to each 
 and every one of our readers our free permission to 
 paint the portrait in any colors that may best please 
 his or her fancy aiv imagination ; suffice it, that she
 
 46 HOMEISHOME. 
 
 was fail and gentle, aud that her countenance bore the 
 impress of the mind within, in beauty whose source 
 could not be mistaken. 
 
 It was now ten o'clock, and Mr. Parties the auction- 
 eer was taking his seat upon a raised sort of platform 
 at the end of the dining-room, which, being large and 
 commodious, had bee : selected for the auction-room, 
 Mr. Parties was fat. and rather short, with a thick 
 husky voice and bustling manner; he wore on the 
 present occasion a blue coat, with a great deal of wiiite 
 about his throat; his collars came very high on his 
 cheek, and his hair, which was iron grey, was brushed 
 so as to add as much as possible to his altitude ; and, 
 as if to prevent its ever falling into its natural place, 
 Mr. Parties constantly pushed his fingers through it, 
 and forced it to stand erect, " like quills upon the fret- 
 ful porcupine." Mr. Parties called about him, too. in a 
 tone of authority, and directed every body with an air 
 of almost magisterial importance; his hammer was laid 
 by his side, and one of his men stood by him to obey 
 every nod of the great man o the day. 
 
 In one corner of the room, in full view of Mr. Par- 
 ties, but as much as possible concealed from the obser- 
 vation of all others, sat a thin, pale woman in a scanty 
 suit of dingy well-worn black, with a small pinched up 
 bonnet, over which was thrown a rusty black veil, she 
 wore large gloves of black cloth, and wide shoes with 
 dirty white stockings : and Honor remarked, " What 
 did she come for to such a house as that, at all ? if 
 she wanted to furnish her house, shure it would not be 
 here she'd meet wid a chimney corner." 
 
 Well, there sir sat, however, and greatly was Hon-
 
 HO. ME IS HOME. 47 
 
 or's surprise increased, wlieu she saw Mr. Crosby beck- 
 on to her, and take her aside into a dark corner of the 
 room, to talk as it seemed quite " confideiishell like." 
 However, she had no time for much speculation just 
 then, for who should come into the sale-room but Rory, 
 her own handsome Rory, with his bright cheeks and 
 coal-black hair, dressed in his " Sunday vest" too, and 
 with a smart yellow silk neckerchief round his throat : 
 as he passed ti ?nor he gave her a sly look, and said, 
 " The top of the morning to ye, Miss Honor, ye see 
 I've kept my tryst ;" and he contrived to give her a 
 peep at the little purse, and then with a caper ho 
 dashed by her, and took his seat as near as possible tc 
 the auctioneer, who was just " calling the attention of 
 the ladies and gentlemen" before him. 
 
 The room filled fast, and despite the fog and cold 
 without, it soon became close and warm in the well- 
 packed auction-room. More people, and more arrived, 
 and some from idleness, others from curiosity, crowded 
 and pushed, and talked, and speculated, and in a lively 
 manner represented the li sale-going" public of the day. 
 We will not follow Mr. Parties through the whole of 
 his day's bustle and fatigue, but will content our read- 
 ers wifh telling them, that the rumors afloat in tho 
 crowd were, that " things were selling well" and " that 
 everything was too dear for them." Ba that as it might- 
 Mr. Parties declared that " it was a shame, that he was 
 giving away the goods of his employer" and that '-every- 
 thing he sold was indeed a bargain." The little wo- 
 man in black, who rejoiced in the name of Mrs. Bundjy. 
 bought - everything," as Rory told Honor. " what coutti
 
 18 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 she be thinking on, the craythur, and where would sha 
 be getting the money to pay for it all ?" 
 
 At last poor Kate's little work-box was placed be- 
 fore the auctioneer; "lot 105," a beautiful inlaid box, 
 intended for a lady's work-box. Rory started forward, 
 and was on the point of offering all he had in the wide 
 world for that blessed box ; but Honor held him back. 
 " Whisht, ye'll get it cheap, wait a bit, for its mostly 
 men they are, an' they'll not be wanting the bit work- 
 box." And Honor was right, for as the wives and 
 daughters of the purchasers were absent, they did not 
 of course teaze their " good men" to buy such " easily 
 done without" articles, and after a few biddings, Rory 
 was declared the happy owner of the box, at " the price) 
 the low price," of 1 10s. and it was as instantly taken 
 possession of by Rory as if he had been a young lady 
 of fourteen, with her first prize at school. He whisper- 
 ed to Mr. Parties that he was " quite intirely obleeged 
 to him," and that he should " like to pay for it directly 
 if he pleased ;" but to his surprise Mr. Parties told him, 
 in his grandest manner, " that he was astonished at his 
 intruding his petty affairs at such a moment," and that 
 he must " set down ! and not interrupt the sale." Poor 
 Rory hid his diminished head, and felt quite ashamed 
 of himself, and very angry indeed with that rude spal- 
 peen Mr. Parties.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ALL day, all day, poor Kate listened -to tie sounds De- 
 low, so fraught with care and sorrow to btr young and 
 affectionate heart ; the strange voices, the occasional 
 burst of rude laughter, the auctioneer's husky voice, the 
 sound of his hammer, followed by the word " gone," 
 brought forcibly before her frhe sad reality, that in a 
 few more hours all would be dispersed, and all the com- 
 forts by which she was surrounded must, by strangers' 
 hands be taken to adorn aud beautify dwellings she 
 might never see ; while her dear, dear parents would 
 be without the necessaries for their daily use or comfort. 
 At times her head sunk upon her breast, and she wept 
 in silence ; then, rousing herself, she would blush at her 
 repining spirit, and feel that her trust was placed in 
 One who could, and doubtless would order all things 
 for their good. She prayed earnestly for strength to 
 meet this painful trial. From time to time Mr. Pley- 
 dell sent to ask to speak to her, sometimes merely from 
 the kind wish of cheering her ; and in this he really 
 succeeded beyond his expectations, as he found Kate 
 so easily led to hope, so anxious to throw aside her 
 more selfish regrets, and so grateful for the smallest 
 kindness, that he had no difficult task in turning her 
 thoughts to subjects on which she could dwell without 
 3
 
 50 HOMEISHOME. 
 
 pain ; he kindly insisted on her taking some needful 
 refreshment, and then induced her to promise to go on 
 the following morning to join her parents, assuring her 
 that he would remain in the house all day, to direct 
 Honor in the discharge of her duties, and to make 
 every needful arrangement with the auctioneer ; add- 
 ing, u And now, my dear Miss Sinclair, will you tell me 
 how I may best assist you when this sale is completed ; 
 I will, if you please, act as your father's agent, and use 
 my best endeavors in the arrangement of his affairs ; 
 but this must indeed be as a, friend, for in no other way 
 can I offer my services ; no thanks, no thanks, I beg j" 
 and the kind-hearted man escaped as quickly as possi- 
 ble, that he might avoid the expression of gratitude 
 which already beamed in the sweet face before him. 
 
 Kate was in truth most glad to be released from 
 her present painful situation, now that she felt she 
 could leave her father's affairs in such safe hj 
 but she despatched a note to him, to ask him wli 
 'he would be satisfied with such an arrangement, and 
 requesting that Charles might come in the morning to 
 accompany her in her little journey. This done, Kate 
 called Honor to assist her in putting up such articles 
 of clothing and bed linen as she had retained for their 
 use. and added such few stores as remained in the 
 house : feeling assured they would find much difficulty 
 in procuring even the commonest necessaries of life : 
 and now the question arose as to what was to become of 
 poor Fido, her favorite Italian greyhound. Honor 
 in vain suggested " Shure it will be all the comfort 
 in life to the little ones," and " it will not be much 
 the crature will thrutble ye, Miss, for he'll be under
 
 HOMEISHOME. 51 
 
 my care intirely :" for Kate felt that it would, perhaps, 
 occasion some inconvenience to all in the small apart- 
 ments they would occupy, and she decided on sending 
 Honor with it to Mrs. Dalton, the wife of the book- 
 seller, asking her to take charge of it jmtii she could 
 decide on some other plan. Having then caressed 
 her little favorite, and given Honor all needful direc- 
 tions, she wrote a little note to Mrs. Dalton, who had 
 shown a gentle, kind interest in their distress, and 
 despatched Honor, with Fido following her ; and then, 
 having fastened the door, she returned to her room and 
 occupied herself busily. Honor meanwhile pursued 
 her way to the street in which Mr. Dalton lived, and 
 Fido, who had for some days been living in enforced 
 seclusion, now darted from place to place with the most 
 violent energy of delight ; round and round Honor 
 he frisked, now between her feet, now up to her 
 shoulder, now gracefully springing forward, then re- 
 turning to kiss the hand which hung by her side. 
 " Down, down, Fido ; shure yer an ungrateful, unman- 
 nerly baste, to make yerself as contihted with me aa 
 though 'twas Miss Kate herself. Asy, asy, Fido; 
 you've no great cause, I'm thinking, for your fun jist 
 now." When they reached Mr. Dalton's house, Honor 
 stepped into the shop, where the good bookseller was, 
 as usual, stationed behind his counter ; and by the fire, 
 as usual also, stood our old friend, Mr. Crosby, warm- 
 ing the gloved hands, which were held behind him, and 
 looking about with his usual sardonic expression of 
 countenance : but on seeing Honor with Fido follow- 
 ing her, he was evidently moved by some unusal cu" 
 riosity, which was not, however, immediately gratified
 
 52 HOME IS HOME 
 
 Honor spoke a word, in a low tone, to Mr. Dalton, 
 who said in reply, " Certainly, go in, my good girl, 
 Mrs. Dalton is in here ;" and, opening the door, which 
 led to his sitting room behind the shop, Honor entered, 
 calling to Fido to follow her, and as the door was in- 
 stantly closed, Mr. Crosby could not, without asking 
 questions, make out the object of her mission, so he 
 resolved to remain, and see what might be the result 
 of her visit at this late hour in the evening, for it was 
 now near seven o'clock. Mrs. Dalton was not in the 
 parlor when Honor first entered it ; but, with his back 
 to the door and seated in his high chair, was her little 
 boy, engaged with some playthings : he most joyously 
 greeted Honor and the pretty Fido ; and when his 
 mother came in, Willie was seated on the rug, with his 
 fat arms round Fido's neck. This, of course, delighted 
 Mrs. Dalton, and, on reading Kate's little note, it was 
 with no small pleasure that she called Mr. Dalton, to 
 consult him as to what answer she would send Miss 
 Sinclair, quite sure that her kind husband would gladly 
 consent to an arrangement so agreeable to all the par- 
 ties concerned. Mr. Dalton was delighted to be able 
 to oblige Miss Sinclair, and told Honor that he would 
 undertake the charge with the greatest pleasure, and 
 that at any time, when it was requested, Fido should 
 return to her former mistress. Poor Honor had been 
 sadly plagued "wi' thim fools of tares," and she had 
 scarcely spoken since she arrived; now, however, she 
 made an effort to thank Mrs. Dalton in her young 
 lady's name, and then, stooping down, she lovingly 
 fondled and caressed the little favorite, and bidding 
 them all a hasty farewell, was departing. The door,
 
 HOME IS HOME. 53 
 
 which she held half open in her hand, obscured the 
 shop, and she did not see the old gentleman, who still 
 stood there while she uttered her parting words of 
 thanks. " I'm intirely obliged to ye, not only for Miss 
 Kate, but for your kind looks at me, and poor Fido j 
 an the loss of the poor baste will be lessened, now that 
 my young lady will know that the dear little boy will 
 make much of it ; and so, good night to ye all." And 
 Honor hurried away to give her young mistress an 
 account of what had passed. 
 
 Mr. Dalton then returned to his place behind the 
 counter. Mr. Crosby looked at him askance, then 
 turned slowly, and looked into the fire j turning as on 
 a pivot, he again found it needful to place his hands be- 
 hind him and warm them, and still he only uttered an 
 occasional growl; at last he said, " So I suppose that 
 fine lady's pet is without a home, hey ? Serve them 
 right ; what do girls want with Italian grey-hounds, I 
 wonder ! well ? what's your wife going to try how she 
 will look with a fine lady's dog at her heels, hey ?" 
 
 Mr. Dalton knew him too well to care for his growl- 
 ing, so he only said, with perhaps a little spice of 
 displeasure, " My wife is always glad to do a kind 
 action, and she certainly has taken charge of Miss Sin- 
 clair's little favorite." 
 
 " Oh, ah, very well .; all right, no doubt ; all very 
 right ; but I say, Italian greyhounds are foolish things, 
 very. I saw it there to-day, in the young lady's room ; 
 well, she is but young ; shell know better some day, 
 I've no-doubt." 
 
 Mr. Dalton only said, that " When young ladies 
 like Mi&s Sinclair were ready and desirous to do their
 
 54 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 duty, aa she had done, he did not think even Mr Cros- 
 by, with all his discrimination, would find much cause 
 for complaint." 
 
 At this the old gentleman coughed away half a 
 smile, and said, " Oh, all very fine, but I hate young 
 ladies and Italian greyhounds, and all their fooleries." 
 And having made this churlish observation, he walked 
 out of the shop. 
 
 Honor soon rejoined her young mistress, who lis- 
 tened with much interest to" the account she brought of 
 Fido's reception, and felt very glad that she had made 
 this little sacrifice of her wishes, and that her favor- 
 ite Fido had found so comfortable a home.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE next morning Kate rose early, everything was 
 rjuite prepared for her departure, and she now only wait- 
 ed for Charles ; it was about nine o'clock that Mr. Pley- 
 dell called to take leave of her, and Honor was told she 
 must be most attentive to his directions all day, 
 and that as soon as the sale was ended, which would 
 be at about four o'clock, she should leave all the keys 
 in Mr. Pleydell's care, and join her young mistress at 
 Mr. Eveleigh's house; but at present Mr. Pleydell 
 was not to be told the place of her father's retreat. In 
 half an hour more Charles arrived, and joyously did 
 Kate spring into his arms : for a few moments both 
 were quite overcome, and neither could venture to 
 speak ; but Charles, whose high spirit could never long 
 sustain depression, soon rallied, and he began to 
 make most active preparations for Kate's departure. 
 A cab was called, Kate's boxes were hastily put in ; 
 and then Charles, placing her in the carriage and seat- 
 ing himself by 'her side, drew down all the blinds, 
 assumed a manly tone, and told the driver to start and 
 
 make the best of his way to Street ; whence they 
 
 intended to proceed on foot to Mr. Eveleigh's house. 
 
 The drive occupied but a short time, and Kate had 
 scarcely regained her composure, when the sudden
 
 56 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 stopping of the carriage roused her. Charles jumped 
 out, and directing her to wait one moment, he darted 
 into a baker's shop, the door of which stood open, and 
 asked permission to leave his sister and the boxes there, 
 while he looked for some one to convey the latter to 
 their place of destination. The civil shopkeeper readily 
 assented, and Charles then dismissed the carriage 
 which had brought them, as he did not wish the driver 
 to have a clue to their present place of abode. After 
 sitting a short time in the baker's shop, a porter's bar- 
 row was procured, and, with their boxes safely packed 
 upon it, they set off to walk by its side to the street in 
 which Mr. Eveleigh's house was situated. On their 
 way, Charles told Kate many particulars respecting 
 their new habitation, and she shrunk from the descrip- 
 tion of the comparative wretchedness of its arrange- 
 ments ; but they both agreed that energy and exertion 
 might soon render any place comfortable and even 
 happy ; and that henceforth they would live only for 
 the benefit of the dear party who were now so depend- 
 ent on them for all that could soothe them in their sad 
 state of distress. And now they turn a corner, and 
 Charles whispers Kate to " keep up," and show a 
 " cheerful face," for they shall be there in a moment : the 
 porter is directed to stop, and Kate recognizes the old 
 red brick house, with its three steps up to the door, and 
 its old-fashioned iron palisading on each side of them j 
 long casement windows, extending nearly all along the 
 frout of the house, showing, by the small size of the 
 panes of glass, that they have for many long years af- 
 forded light to the rooms within ; the door too is some- 
 what heavy, and the knocker ponderous.
 
 HOME IS HOME 57 
 
 Charles pushed it (pen without announcing their ar- 
 rival by rap or ring, thinking he should like to give 
 Kate a moment to recover herself before they mounted 
 the stairs. There was a square sort of entrance hall, 
 and this and the staircase were all wainscoted with 
 dark oak ; in this way, indeed, nearly every part of the 
 house was finished, giving an air of respectability to 
 the appearance- of the place. The boxes were now 
 brought in and placed in this entrance, and the porter 
 who had brought them was paid and dismissed ; yet, 
 strange to say, Kate still lingered, longing as she did 
 .to see all the dear party, and though she had hitherto 
 felt no doubt of her own firmness, she was now scarcely 
 equal to the scene which awaited her. In another mo- 
 ment Charles, passing his arm round her waist, led her 
 up the first flight of stairs ; but at the first sound of 
 their footsteps, two little cheerful voices were heard 
 exclaiming, " Oh, they're come, they're come, dear 
 darling Kate's come, now we shall be so happy !" andj 
 with bounding steps, Emily and Rose rushed into their 
 sister's arms saying everything at once, in the manner 
 rf all excited young children : " Oh, Kate, we've been 
 sitting on the stairs all the morning, and we are not at 
 all cold, and dear mamma is certainly better, and papa's 
 longing to see you ; and oh, Kate, Charles has made " 
 but here Charles interposed, and putting his hands, 
 good-humoredly, before the two little rosy mouths, he 
 said, " Gently, gently, my dear little pets ; you must 
 not tell Kate all our secrets, and tire her spirits before 
 a e has seen mamma ; come, come, run away, little 
 kit 'ens, or we shall never reach the top of this weary 
 old house." 
 
 a*
 
 68 'HOME IS HOME. 
 
 However, they reached the last landing ; ;ind then, 
 and not till then, Kate was folded in the arms of her 
 father ; but both were too oppressed to speak, and it 
 was with a trembling frame that Mr. Sinclair embraced 
 his daughter: conquering their emotions a,s soon as 
 possible, Kate entered the room in which her dear mo- 
 ther awaited her arrival, and where she had been induced 
 to remain, that she might receive her child without the 
 presence of the younger children j and as Kate knelt 
 by her side, and placed her hand on her shoulder, she 
 audibly distinguished the loud pulsation of that dear 
 mother's palpitating heart ; yet all was, as far as possi- 
 ble, calm, and composed : a glance sufficed to show 
 Kate the privations which had been already endured, 
 and which must have caused much suffering to their 
 sensitive hearts, and scarcely could she restrain her 
 agitated feelings ; a short time, however, restored them 
 in some degree to composure, and then Charles and the 
 little .ones joined them, and Kate was constrained to 
 listen to all the details of their proceedings since they 
 left her ; they insisted too on showing her all the little 
 contrivances by which they had managed to find the 
 n(cessar < 7 accommodation for such a party in these 
 " bachelor's rooms," of which Kate was taking a quiet 
 but accurate survey, and which consisted of a tolerably 
 large room, with dark wainscot paneling, lighted from 
 the top by a skylight, at one end, and having also a 
 Ipng range of casements 3n one side : at the farthest 
 part of the room stood a bed with old fashioned hang- 
 ings of dark green moreen, which looked a little moth- 
 eaten and dingy, still it was evidjatly perfectly neat 
 and clean, A long sort of stand, covered with green
 
 HOME'S HOME. 59 
 
 baize, was placed along the centre of tl e room, which 
 had been used by Mr. Eveleigh as the pedestal, on 
 which to place the subjects for his artistic pencil ; and 
 round the room, at different intervals, were phfc'ed other 
 stands, on some of which there still might be seen some 
 clever and even valuable busts and torsos ; a painter's 
 easel rested against the wall in one corner, and several 
 otherininor objects, marked this as the painter's "studio." 
 A large fire-place, with a small grate in it, but imper- 
 fectly supplied the warmth which so large a room re- 
 quired, and a few rather hard-seated mahogany chairs, 
 with stiff upright backs, completed the furniture of this 
 singular apartment, with the exception of a large ma- 
 hogany table, which, covered with coarse green baize, 
 stood in the front of the fire ; within this room, which 
 served as the bed-room and only sitting-room for her 
 parents, there was another small room, with a bed in 
 it and a couple of chairs ; and here, Emily told Kate, 
 " she and Rosy had slept ever since they came ;" and 
 she also told her that " poor Charley had been obliged 
 to sleep in the place where all Mr. Eveleigh's cups and 
 saucers were kept," a sort of closet-pantry, just at the 
 top of the stairs ; and the chattering child continued, 
 "I don't know what you and Honor can do, Kate, for 
 there are^no more beds in this funny old place, and 
 papa will be more vexed than ever now. What will you 
 do, dear Katie ; do you think we could ail sleep in this 
 .one little bed ?" 
 
 What a change for Kate ! yet she cared not for her- 
 self, and kissing the dear little ones, she said, " Did you 
 ever read the Life and Adventures cf Robinson Crusoe, 
 dear Emily ?" " Oh yes, Kate, ar, I I know what you
 
 60 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 mean, and we'll all be make-believe Robinsons, and thai 
 will be charming, for I always wished 1 could be Robin- 
 son Crusoe." Kate smiled, and patting her on the 
 head, said, " Well, then, now let us begia to imitate 
 him in all his clever contrivances, to banish inconven- 
 ience and repining." 
 
 Charles was now called into the room, and after 
 much cogitation, he suggested that they had better 
 leave all these troubles to him, and that before the 
 hour of rest approached, all should be comfortably ar- 
 ranged ; but how this was to be done, they could not 
 imagine. All now began to exert themselves to make 
 everything as neat and comfortable as circumstances 
 would admit, and although they had to contend with 
 many difficulties, the young ones thought it would b& 
 rather amusing to have so much to do, ami to be of so 
 much importance ; on this day, too, they scarcely re- 
 alized all the perplexities of their situation, as Kate 
 had brought cold provision, and many things, which 
 added to their comfort. 
 
 Mr. Sinclair, who could not be induced to look about 
 him. and take a part in these preparations, sat with his 
 hands folded on his knees, and scarcely spoke or move 1 
 for hours at a time, then suddenly starting up. he paced 
 the room in silent distress and sorrow ; he looked fear- 
 fully ill, too, and poor Kate felt shocked at the change 
 which a few days had effected : his usually fastidiously 
 reat dress was now quite neglected, his unbrushed 
 clothes seemed as if he had no thought either for his 
 comfort or appearance, and it was evident that ais 
 health was rapidly sinking, from the distressed state of 
 CiS mind. His wife and daughtei watched him witb
 
 HO ME IS HO ME. til 
 
 anxious eyes, but avoided saying one word that might 
 betray their deep grief, and everything was done to 
 conceal the difficulties by which they were now sur- 
 rounded. Late in the afternoon, he suddenly asked 
 what was to become of Kate, and demanded, with as- 
 sumed calmness, " What arrangement they proposed 
 for finding sleeping accommodations for s$ large a 
 party ?" To which Charles replied, " Oh, / shall 
 manage, I shall contrive it all presently :" and he be- 
 gan carefully to examine every article in the rom. On 
 turning over the long-shaped pedestal, which was cov- 
 ered with baize, it was discovered to be hollow ; and as 
 it was sufficiently long, and large enough to contain 
 one of the little girls, it was determined to fit it up as 
 a sort of crib bed, and to leave the other bed for Kate 
 and little Kosa : thus the first real difficulty which had 
 arisen was cleverly obviated ; and now Kate placed some 
 wood on the fire, and wheeled two chairs close to the 
 cheerful blaze, for her parents ; then she and Charles 
 were very busy indeed bringing a cloth to spread over 
 the table ; then tea-things were to be fetched, and Rosa 
 and Emily would" make the tea-kettle sing a merrj 
 song, to " enliven dear papa ;" and then Kate broaghl 
 two little cakes she had bought for the little ones, an<S 
 when the fire sent up a glowing light, which evei 
 cheered 1 e darkness of that dark room, and the chil 
 dren were seated round the table, laughing and talking, 
 and devising a thousand ingenious plans, by which they 
 might even cause Robinson Crusoe himself to sleep in 
 the shade ; and when Kate offered the two nice buna 
 to the little would-be inmates of a deserted island, and 
 they pushed the said cakes into the hands of " dear
 
 t>2 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 papa" and "darling mamma," even poor Mr. Sinclaii 
 could not help admitting the hope that, with these 
 affectionate beings about him, the sun of happiness 
 would surely shine upon him still. 
 
 And now, just as the room was filled with the grate- 
 ful scent of the warm, nice tea and toast, a step on the 
 stairs announced the arrival of an addition to their 
 party, an exclamation of " Oh, that's Honor; I'm sure 
 it is !" escaped from the children, and Charles rushed 
 to the door, to admit the poor, wearied, sad girl. Honor, 
 shivering from the effects of the cold and fog without, 
 stood for a moment, quite surprised and delighted, at 
 the change which had been made in the appearance of the 
 before cheerless apartment, and afforded a strong contrast 
 to the now warmed and comfortable party, who were 
 seated round the tea-table, in front of the blazing fire. 
 She looked pale and wearied, and the sudden transition 
 from the cold, foggy air of the street, to the bright and 
 cheerful apartment, bewildered her. 
 
 A loud, and friendly greeting, from the little ones, 
 and the kind request from her master, that she would 
 "come in" induced her, after laying aside her wet 
 cloak and bonnet on the landing, to advance towards 
 the party : but it was evident that the poor girl felt 
 quite abashed and confused, at finding herself, for the 
 first time, obliged to assume a position so new to her; 
 to have no kitchen to wait in till " Miss Kate " or " the 
 mistress " wanted her ; no fire to approach but the one 
 round which those she so respected were seated, at their 
 evening meal ; no means of showing 'how bitterly she 
 dreaded being an intruder upon the privacy of her 
 honored master and mistress. All combined to distress
 
 HOMEISHOME. 63 
 
 and silence the good, faithful creature : and she stood 
 looking at Kate with a mute appeal, which seemed to 
 ask for advice and direction. Mrs. Sinclair kindly of- 
 fered her a cup of tea, which she gratefully accepted, and 
 then retired to the farthest corner of the room, where 
 she contrived to make a hiding-place for herself behind 
 the bed-curtains. But nothing could induce her to ap- 
 proach the party again until the meal was ended, and 
 then with all the air of a new servant anxious to secure 
 a good place, she asked Charles in a low tone : " Would 
 he be so good as to show her the way to the pantry." 
 
 Kate deferred all inquiry and conversation with 
 Honor till she could be with her alone, as she dreaded 
 mentioning the subject of the sale before her father ; 
 and as soon as Honor had disappeared with the tea- 
 things, Mrs. Sinclair and the girls took out some needle- 
 work, while Charles busied himself in trying to arrange 
 some more plans for the morrow, and Mr. Sinclair 
 again became immersed in saddened thoughts. 
 
 An hour had elapsed in almost silence, broken by 
 vain efforts at cheerful conversation, when a low and 
 timid tap was heard at the door, and to the great sur- 
 prise of the assembled group, a little girl of about 
 twelve made her appearance in the gloom of the door- 
 way. The room at that end was scarcely lighted, and 
 they were all quite at a loss to make out who the. in- 
 truder could be. She wore a very broad-frilled cap 
 and a sort of tartan plaid petticoat, rather short, exhi- 
 biting a pair of well-turned feet and ancles, but without 
 the encumbrance of shoes or stockings ; and in a broad 
 Scotch dialect, she said, " My leddy's sent her kind re- 
 spects tull ye all, and she will be happy to give ye a
 
 64 HO ME IS HOME. 
 
 bed, if ye hav'nt enough for all the family, and she'll 
 be happy to pay her compliments to ye, the morn." 
 
 The children were half inclined to titter at the 
 strange little servant's dress and manner, but their im- 
 patience to know who she could be checked them, and 
 they listened attentively to the girl's answers to Mrs. 
 Sinclair, who now asked her, " Who sent her, and 
 whose servant she was ?" 
 
 " Deed, then, I'm serving-lassie to Miss Moffat, and 
 she bids me tell ye ye'll be kindly welcome to the use 
 of a room on her floor ; and the maid can come down 
 a bit when ye're tired of her company up stairs !" 
 
 " How very kind, how very considerate !" burst from 
 the lips of all the young ones. And though for a mo- 
 ment Mr. Sinclair was heard to mutter " Impossible," 
 " Strangers," &c., &c., the little girl was requested to 
 come in while Kate prepared a hasty note of thanks, 
 for the offered civility, and accepted the room which 
 was at this time so especially required. The little 
 stranger approached the table, and her sweet coun- 
 tenance and pretty smiling face quite charmed the 
 children ; and Kosa was detected holding her wax doll 
 in such a position, as to induce the admiring gaze of 
 her blue eyes to-be most fully devoted to its beauties. 
 
 " What is your name ?" Emily asked, and the child 
 in a whisper said, " I'm Maggy, fie piper's child, and I 
 live wi' Miss Moffat."' 
 
 The note was now ready, and the child dismissed 
 Charles kindly lighting her down the dark staircase. 
 It was then settled that the room thus offered should 
 be devoted to Charles' use, and that Honor should for 
 the present sleep in her pantry-closet, where she assured
 
 HO ME IS HOME. 65 
 
 them she could make quite a comfortable " shake down" 
 for herself. 
 
 All their worst difficulties now seemed removed, at 
 least so Kate and the young ones imagined ; but to the 
 parents still came the thought, " Whence shall we find 
 bread that these may eat and not die ?" 
 
 Maggie descended the last flight of the stairs, and 
 was groping her way along the dark passage below, 
 when a door suddenly opened, and a stream of light, 
 proceeding from the room within, assisted her very 
 considerably in her progress. She hastily ran forward, 
 and without recovering the little alarm which a few 
 steps in the dark had occasioned her, she stood with 
 blushing cheeks in the presence of her mistress, who 
 was awaiting her return with great impatience. 
 
 " Weel, Maggie, an' have ye speered at the leddy 
 hersel' ? an' what did she say tull ye ? but, lassie, I 
 see ye've got a screed of a note for me ! come, just hand 
 it here, bairn, an' we'll see." 
 
 Miss Moffat seized Kate's note, and held her head 
 very erect, as she read the " Varry leddy-like epistle 
 fra Miss Sinclair ;" who, as usual, wrote in so kind and 
 courteous a manner, as to give great pleasure to the 
 person whom she addressed. On this occasion her note 
 was productive of a very considerable share of satisfac- 
 tion ; and for some time Miss Moffat moved up and 
 down the room, with the air of a queen on a country 
 stage. 
 
 Miss Moffat was an elderly spinster, whom a cold 
 world had not treated with much warmth, and on whom 
 the icy shoulders of neglect had too often been turned, 
 for the sin of poverty had set its blasting finger upon
 
 66 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 her, and for many years she had been ace istomed onl^ 
 to its consequent sorrows and sacrifices. She still, how- 
 ever, felt a peculiar pleasure, when by any circumstance 
 she found herself included, even for a moment, within 
 the pale of that barrier which too often 'excludes all on 
 whom the ban of poverty has fallen. She was by birth 
 a lady of good Scotch family, and in her youth had en- 
 joyed the hospitable comforts of a Highland home ; but 
 time had deprived her of " friends, fortune, all," and at 
 this period of approaching age, she had gladly accepted 
 the kind proposal made to her by her " far off cousin," 
 Mr. Eveleigh, that she should occupy part of his old 
 
 house in street. The house, as we have seen, was 
 
 partially furnished, and afforded to poor Miss Moffat a 
 more comfortable and respectable home than for some 
 time previously she had enjoyed. She immediately, by 
 her cousin's permission, found lodgers for some of the 
 rooms which she did not require ; and thus derived a 
 small addition to her very scanty means of subsistence, 
 which otherwise would scarcely have provided her with 
 daily food. The trials and privations to which she had 
 been subjected, had by no means hardened Miss Mof- 
 fat's heart ; and she ever felt particularly excited by 
 those sorrows which had for their origin either poverty 
 or neglect : and now that she had it in her power to 
 bestow a kindness on real " born leddies," she felt a 
 glow of true Scottish hospitality which brought back a 
 tide of early recollections ; and it was with some pride 
 that she told Maggie to " mak haste to get ready the 
 spare room and the braw linen which was once her ' ain 
 dear mither's,' " and which consequently was reserved 
 for special occasions. " And get a' weel airrit and see
 
 HOME IS HOME. 67 
 
 that a' was reddy," for she expected a guest to sleep 
 that night. 
 
 Maggie, who had been a very short time in her pre- 
 sent capacity of chief servant to Miss Moffat. was so 
 bewildered by these unusual directions that she only 
 stared for a moment, and then said, " What's yer wool, 
 Ma'am ? 
 
 " Gude guide us, lassie ! dinna ye ken that I sent 
 ye to offer them a bed ? and dinna ye ken it must aye 
 be airrit?" 
 
 Now then Maggie quite understood the intentions 
 of her kind mistress, and she promised to do it all as 
 weel as she could : but Miss Moffat awoke from her 
 dream, and. lo ! it was but a wee bairn by her side ; 
 so she decided that " gin she wanted a' done wi pro- 
 priety, she had better just do it herself," and she in- 
 stantly with great alacrity busied herself in preparing 
 as far as was possible for the comforts of her visitor, 
 and when Maggie had lighted a little fire, and the bed 
 was furnished with really fine Scotch linen, the room 
 looked, as Miss Moffat said, " an unco comfortable 
 rasting place." And she hoped her "guest would sleep 
 in pace, for she was sure she had spared nae trouble : 
 an noo lassie get the bit of supper, and then ye sail go 
 to yer sleep, for ye look varra sleepit and tired, I'm 
 thinking." 
 
 " An what sail I get for the supper ?" asked little 
 Maggie. "Ye ken we finished the seep's head, and 
 pickit the banes quite clane, the dinner time this day." 
 
 " Ah weel, hinnie, warm the bit of fried potatoe and 
 bring me, and ye sail have half of it yersel." 
 
 Maggie departed, and soon a loud hissing of frying
 
 OS HOME IS HOME. 
 
 was heard by Miss Moffat, who, on hospitable thoughts 
 intent, sat looking into the little wood fire in her sit- 
 ting-room, leaning her elbow on the small, round and 
 highly-polished table by her side, on w.hich stood a 
 candle in a very old-fashioned small silver candlestick 
 of upright form, and having a small shield, with the 
 arms of her family engraved upon it. This candle- 
 stick seldom saw daylight, but as Miss Moffat did 
 not omit any opportunity of displaying to an admir- 
 ing world this almost solitary vestige of the brilliancy 
 of bygone days, dhe had now placed it in a con- 
 spicuous place, with its candle ready to light up its 
 glories, the moment a footstep on the stairs should 
 announce her expected visitor. Meanwhile, it was 
 not needful to think by candlelight, so Miss Moffat 
 sat, indulging her reveries by the fireside. Presently 
 in came little Maggie, carrying in her hands a dish 
 with a cover over it; this with trembling eagerness 
 she placed on the little table, upon which Miss Moffat 
 had hastily placed .a snow-white little cloth, but be- 
 fore the cover was removed from the dish, a long 
 blessing on the food before her was pronounced in a 
 solemn manner by Miss Moffat. Maggie waited with 
 all the patience she could muster, but it was evident 
 the child was much delighted when at length the sig- 
 nal was given to her and she raised the cover, when 
 forth came a goodly scent of fried bacon with an egg 
 placed most invitingly upon its tempting surface. 
 
 > Hech, sirs ! saw ye ever the like o' that ? Hey 
 Maggie dear, but whar will ye have gotten sic delicat 
 provisions for us ? but hold ! bring your het plate, 
 hinny, and tell, whiles I gie ye some, whar did ye get
 
 HOMEISHOMi.. 09 
 
 iv. I fear ye've been sae extravagant as to buy it : but 
 whar wad ye get the money, child ?" The good lady 
 paused, and awaited the reply before she indulged in 
 the dainties before her. 
 
 " Deed, then," said Maggie, " it's not much it costs, 
 for whan ye sent me for the wood there was a farthing 
 in change, and the man askit me would I have the 
 farthing or an egg ? and so I took the egg, and and 
 he gave me the bit of bacon." 
 
 Maggie's eye and blushing cheek betrayed her ; and 
 Miss Moffat said, " Oh Lassie, hinnie ! I fear, oh, I 
 greatly fear, its a lee ye have been tellin me; for I 
 know ye could nae sae provide the "things before me : 
 but eh, lassie, dinna be afraid to speak the truth, for 
 ye meent it kindly, an I'se forgie ye, bairn, if ye've 
 been betrayed into a faut." 
 
 Maggie could not resist the tender, gentle tones of 
 her kind mistress, and she sobbed in silence. At 
 length she confessed that she had not bought the usual 
 quantity of wood, and that it had fallen a little in price, 
 and thus she had a few pence to spare, and she thought 
 her dear " leddy would just be wanting something " 
 for her supper, and, reckless of consequences, she had 
 purchased the bit of ham and the egg of which the 
 savory dish was composed. 
 
 " A ye suit ha telt me sae afore, Maggie, an then 
 we might hae said there was nae grate harm dune ; 
 but noo, lassie, ye have broken a great command of 
 Him wha is truth itsel ; and it's no be eating or drink- 
 ing we will this night. I'll share a' wi ye, lass : but 
 if ye tell me a lee, deed it's my duty to show ye yer 
 ein. Sae noo tak a' awa, for I'se no heart to eat alone
 
 70 HOMEIS 
 
 sae gang awa to yer bed. I'se talk tall ye may be 
 the morn." 
 
 In vain the child wept and entreated, Miss Moffat 
 was in inexorable, and Maggie retired in sorrow and 
 shame, and soon wept herself to sleep on the little bed 
 which occupied a corner of her kind mistress' "oom. 
 
 In a few moment*, t-i'ear this little scene had taken 
 place, Charles' step was heard on the stairs, and Miss 
 Moffat opened her door, having first lighted the long- 
 prepared candle. Her dress and appearance were so 
 singular, that Charles could scarcely restrain a smile. 
 Standing in the doorway, with the silver candlestick 
 held aloft as in triumph, Miss Moffat displayed to ad- 
 vantage the remnants of finery of ancient days with 
 which she had adorned herself on this eventful even- 
 ing. Her cap. which was of old but fine lace, was 
 trimmed with a profusion of cherry-colored ribbons, 
 of which a sort of wreath of bows surrounded her face ; 
 from beneath this tawdry cap hung the well-oiled curls 
 of a flaxen wig, which were so disposed as to give as ju- 
 venile an air as possible to the thin and almost wrin- 
 kled face and throat beneath. Her dress was of plaid 
 which, though originally of bright and handsome colors, 
 was mw, both in fabric and form, worn and old-fashion- 
 ed. Her throat was a good deal exposed ; and as she 
 still had some remains of the pink and white complex- 
 ion of former years, she looked in the dim light like 
 some old, faded doll. Still, her kindly smile, and 
 bright blue eye, gave promise of an amiable nature, 
 and Charles returned her salutation with much polite- 
 ness, thanking her most sincerely -when she ushered
 
 HOME IS HOME. 71 
 
 him into the very comfortable room which she had pre- 
 pared for his reception. 
 
 Having wished him " Crude night," Miss Moffat re- 
 tired to her own room, where she bestowed a kind and 
 pitying look upon the now sleeping liftle culprit, say- 
 ing, " Puir bairn, she is but a chield, and has probably 
 been but little instructed in the right way j and in the 
 morn I'se gie her some gude advice, and strive to win 
 her young soul to God, if it be His will." And Miss 
 Moffat's s vy f v&* sweet and peaceful, and her rest un- 
 disturbed
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 IT was at about four o'clock in the afternoon of the next 
 day, that Mr. Crosby's respectable housekeeper, Mrs. 
 Fairly, was seated in her own snug little sitting-room 
 surrounded by all those comforts which old and faitn- 
 ful servants generally contrive to draw around them in 
 their advancing age : this room occupied the south-west 
 corner of the house, and looked out upon the well-kept 
 grass plat and flower borders in front. But as good 
 housekeepers think it right to keep an eye upon all vi- 
 sitors, Mrs. Fairly had induced her master to have an- 
 other window opened at the western angle, thus con- 
 verting her room into a sort of observatory ; and here, 
 when seated close by her fireside, Mrs. Fairly contrived 
 to see every one who approached the house. As the 
 good lady, however, was particularly sensitive of cold 
 draught, these windows were well defended with sand 
 bags, neatly covered with green baize ; a strong carpet 
 of bright green and scarlet covered the room, and a 
 warm rug was placed before the fire ; the polished brass 
 fender and fire-irons gave evidence of Hannah's skill ; 
 and the bright, but not blazing fire was most methodi- 
 cally kept at a certain pyramidical altitude, and as 
 Mrs. Fairly filled each crack as it appeared with a coal 
 or cinder, a clear fire it remained, and without any
 
 HOME IS HOME. 73 
 
 " waste or extravagance," as she told her little servant. 
 On the rug was placed a square footstool, on the top of 
 which sat an erect tabby cat, worked in wool, but look- 
 ing rither old and faded in its beauties, which, as it had 
 evidently occupied that peculiar position for many a 
 long year, was a result not to be wondered at by any 
 one. Many were the curiosities by which Mrs. Fairly's 
 room was adorned, and of which she was particularly 
 proud, for they were the gifts of her kind, though 
 strangely-mannered master, who generally compensated 
 for any unusual degree of churlishness or asperity by 
 bringing some fresh ornament for the decoration of her 
 room ; and, as in former days Mr. Crosby had visited 
 distant climes, he possessed many things which were 
 well calculated to please the good lady. Amongst these 
 treasures were some glass cases containing beautiful 
 little birds of the most brilliant plumage, and many- 
 colored flies and beetles, one of which occupied a most 
 conspicuous place on a side table, and was shown to 
 every friend as the " Dimont Beetle ;" and had it been 
 formed of one single diamond, Fairly would scarcely 
 have thought it more valuable. On a table against 
 one wall was placed a handsome tea-tray, and an urn 
 which was in so high a state of preservation as to show 
 that its duties were confined to the ornamental branch. 
 On the mantel shelf stood a church, with Mrs. Fairly's 
 warming-pan watch peeping through a round hole in 
 the tower. A pretty little black spaniel, with habit- 
 shirt and socks of purest white, basked before the fire ; 
 and as Mrs. Fairly had been assured, as she always 
 said, " that he was a lineal descendant from King 
 Charles," she had thought it only a " proper respect" to 
 4
 
 74 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 call him "Prince." A grey parrot, in a largo and 
 handsome cage, completed the arrangements of this 
 "housekeeper's room." 
 
 On the evening we have mentioned, it was evident 
 that Mrs. Fairly was expecting the arrival of some 
 guest ; several times had she pushed aside her working 
 materials, and walked impatiently to the window which 
 overlooked the back entrance of the house ; on each of 
 these occasions Prince had jumped from his mat by the 
 fire, and, springing after her, had pushed his way to the 
 front place at the window, poking his black nose against 
 the glass, and barking wit*h great vehemence ; in vain 
 was he commanded to be quiet, as every look from his 
 mistress seemed but to excite him to fresh demonstra- 
 tions of his sympathy, and though in perfect good 
 humor, he barked his loudest every time she ap- 
 proached the window. At length Mrs. Fairly began 
 to lose-her patience ; it was almost dark, and she could 
 no longer have distinguished her expected visitor from 
 : < any other she," and muttering that it " was always so," 
 and that " Mrs. Flitters alwajc did come so dreadful 
 late." Mrs. Fairly returned to her high-backed chair by 
 the fire. In a few moments a step announced the ap- 
 proach of her friend, and Mrs. Fairly tried to appear 
 quite surprised when Mrs. Flitters glided into the room, 
 and declared she was " so very much provoked that she 
 could not get away sooner." She then shook hands 
 violently with Mrs. Fairly, and patted " dear littlo 
 Prinny," then poked her finger into Poll's ruffled fea- 
 thers, rousing her from her dreams of distant lands. 
 u Poor Poll," though very sleepy, made a waddling at- 
 tempt at recognition, winked amazingly, and said in a
 
 HOME IS HOME. . 75 
 
 sleepy tone, " How dy do." Upon which Mrs. 
 Flitters was in raptures, and declared that " Polly al- 
 ways remembered her, waking or sleeping," and then 
 scratched poor Poll till she bent her head to the floor 
 of her cage with delight. Mrs. Flitters now laid aside 
 her shawl, but cold as it was, bonnet s"he had none for 
 fear of spoiling her smart new cap : then shaking hands 
 once more with Fairly, and calling her a " dear 
 good soul," she told her she looked " so well ;" and then, 
 quite breathless with excitement at finding herself " out 
 on a visit," she threw herself into the chair just opposite 
 Fairly, stretched out her pretty figure so as to display 
 it to the best advantage, and dispossessing Prinny of his 
 accustomed seat, she placed her little feet on the foot- 
 stool in front of the fire. 
 
 Mrs. Flitters was many years y/mnger than Mrs. 
 Fairly, and was not quite the sort of person one might 
 have expected her to choose as her friend and chief 
 confidant ; but Flitters was lively and good-tempered, 
 and, moreover, had taken a great fancy to the worthy 
 Mrs. Fairly, whom she flattered by consulting upon all 
 occasions, as being " so much her superior, and so able 
 to instruct and advise her." Thus the good house- 
 keeper felt a sort of motherly liking for her, and 
 certainly greatly enjoyed her lively chat : moreover, 
 there had been a little opposition from Mr. Crosby, who 
 did not quite approve the intimacy between the two wo- 
 men, and, as it sometimes happens, a little difficulty of 
 this kind only rendered them the more desirous to 
 have their own way, so Flitters certainly was a frequent 
 visitor in the housekeeper's room. 
 
 Slie was rather "young for a housekeeper," as Mrs.
 
 76 HOME SHOME. 
 
 Fairly told her ; but as she had been app omted to that 
 " distinction, of course she was admitted to its privi- 
 leges." But though she aimed at all its dignities, she 
 could not prevail on herself to adopt a style of dress 
 consistent with so staid an office. On the present occa- 
 sion she wore a very jaunty cap, with pink ribbons, 
 much too small to restrain the long black ringlets which 
 fell very gracefully on each side of her really handsome 
 face. Her dress was of dark silk, and did not by any 
 means conceal the symmetry of her trim little waist ; 
 and her shoes of " patent seal" set off to advantage the 
 small and delicate little feet which she jiow placed on 
 the footstool. 
 
 It was quite evident that, although Mrs. Fairly in 
 some sort deprecated all this finery, yet that she felt a 
 kindly pleasure in admiring her younger friend ; and 
 she smiTed as she said, " Well, Mrs. Flitters, you're on 
 the look out, I see. Oh, I shall dance at your wedding 
 now before long, I'm sure." 
 
 Flitters only laughed, and turned her little, vain 
 head to try to catch a glimpse of the pink ribbons in 
 the glass, and then said, simperingly, " Oh now, really, 
 you're too bad, I declare ; but how do you like my 
 new "cap?" Whereupon Mrs. Fairly began a lecture 
 on " smart caps," which Mrs. Flitters cut short by 
 throwing herself back in her chair, and saying, " Come, 
 come, now ! I know you like it, and when you come to 
 dance at my wedding, you shall have the pattern of it 
 there now ! but who knows, Mrs. Fairly, though you are 
 so sly, perhaps I shall get the bride-cake first, and dance 
 at your wedding may b~ before th?se nr r shoes a~e 
 worn outj"
 
 , HOME IS HOME. 77 
 
 Fairly pretended to look very, very angry at this 
 sally, but she was evidently pleased, and a little flat- 
 tered that " Flitters should not think her too old" for 
 such badinage : and she smilingly rose and rung the 
 bell, and told Hannah to " bring the tea, and some hot 
 cakes, and to be sure and let her know when master did 
 coine home." And the tea was black and strong, and 
 the cakes were doubly buttered, and the two friends sat 
 close beside each other, chatting merrily ; yet it was 
 evident Mrs. Flitters had some subject on her mind 
 which she dreaded to bring forward, lest she should 
 offend the good housekeeper. For a few moments she 
 became abstracted and silent, till Fairly, thinking some- 
 . thing was wrong, said, " I hope the tea is to your liking, 
 Mrs. Flitters :" when that lady replied, with vehement 
 protestations, that it was " the essence of perfection 
 nectarine, fit for the gods !" 
 
 " Oh, ma'am, I hope not : I should be sorry it 
 should be so perfane." At which Flitters smiled in 
 conscious superiority, but still she had not courage to 
 approach the subject of her errand. At last she said, 
 " I did not know, ma'am, that Mr. Crosby was a lover 
 of sweet sounds." Fairly, who was slightly deaf, said) 
 " Cods' sounds, did you mean, Mrs. Flitters ? yes ; 
 I believe he likes them very well when in season, you 
 know, and nicely cooked : but it's difficult to have them 
 in perfection." 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Fairly, you quite mistook my meaning. 
 I meant to say that I did not know your master had 
 music in his soul." 
 
 " Sole ! oh yes, yes. he likes a sole particularly, I 
 know. Yes, yeg he is very fond of a sole."
 
 78 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 Again Flitters Lad to try back : but this time she 
 determined not to be misunderstood ; so making a des- 
 perate effort, she said, " I did not know that he was 
 likely to want a piano, ma^am, I mean ; but I saw one 
 carried into this house to-day, I feel convinced." 
 
 " Oh! ay, that you did, Mrs. Flitters, sure enough ; 
 and now you've mentioned the circumstance, you can't 
 Bay that / told you, and I really do feel quite glad to 
 have some one to whom I can open my heart upon this 
 subject. A piano, indeed ! yes, and many a lady's 
 gimcrack arrived here this blessed day, and no notice 
 given to me, Mrs. Flitters : but when the hall was full of 
 the trumpery things, master called me, and ordered me 
 to put them in the blue room yes, Mrs. Flitters, the 
 blue room, which I have never been allowed to use for 
 any 'versal purpose since here I've been and that's 
 twenty years : and they do say that it has not been 
 used since my master lost his young wife, who they tell 
 me was a sweet creature, though something of a furriner 
 like." 
 
 " Lor, 'Mrs. Fairly ! a wife, sure ! well I didn't know 
 as he had ever been a Benedict, as my young ladies 
 say : but do tell me more about it. What I he was 
 married once, was he then ? and was there any family, 
 Mrs. Fairly?" 
 
 Well, I don't know anything about that, its nei- 
 ther here nor there ; what /want to know is, what does 
 all these things, brought here to-day, intend ? what do 
 you think ? do you expect that he's going to be so fool 
 ish as to bring home another wife at this time of day ?" 
 But Mrs. Flitters was taken with a proroking fit, and 
 told her friend that really she could not say, suoh
 
 . HOMEISHOME. 79 
 
 things did occur in the best of families ; and that it 
 would be a very hard thing upon Mrs. Fairly if he 
 should do such a silly thing ;" but still it did " seem 
 too probable ; for else what could he want of such things 
 as had been described." 
 
 At this poor Fairly could not at all conceal her 
 alarm, and said, " Well, Mrs. Flitters, if such is the 
 case, and I am turned adrift in my old age, I shall say 
 there's no gratitude left in this wickedlst of worlds . 
 and, in course, no fashionable young lady would like 
 such an antiquated housekeeper as me, for I never 
 had any practice in grand dinners, and such like." 
 
 Mrs. Flitters showed great sympathy with the unfor- 
 tunate victim of this suppositious injustice and cruel 
 treatment, and held her hand affectionately, while she 
 assured her that she could never be so ungrateful aa 
 to forget her past kindness ; and then dexterously 
 turning the conversation, she resumed the subject of 
 her curiosity. " I think you was saying just now that 
 the forring lady had a child : did you say so, Mrs. 
 F., or did I mistake your meaning?" 
 
 " Well, I don't know much about it," and here 
 Fairly lowered her tone to a whisper " but I did once 
 see in a drawer in my master's study a little vest of 
 purple velvet, and some small fine shirts with lace and 
 worked collars ; but whose they were, or where they 
 came from, I never could think. I have often looked 
 since, but the drawers are all kept locked : and as 
 to ever naming such a thing it would cost me my place, 
 I know. So now, my dear Flitters, I do hope you'll 
 never, no, never mention that ever I told you such a 
 thing and, lor bless me, after all you know they
 
 80 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 might have belonged to his sister's child !" But here 
 a loud ringing of Mr. Crosby's bell roused the gos- 
 sipping Fairly, and, anathematizing Hannah for not 
 having told her that " master " was come home, she 
 hastily pursued her way to the library. On opening 
 the door, she was greeted with a " Well, what's the 
 matter ? hey ? What's all this ? Why, Fairly, I have 
 positively rung twice ! bring my muffin and caudles, 
 and don't lose^iny more time, I beg." Fairly curtsied 
 and withdrew ; but she heard him murmur ' Ay, ay, 
 women are always gossipping. I dare say that hand- 
 some fool Flitters is chattering in the housekeeper's 
 room. Well, they're all alike, all alike ; chatter, chatter, 
 chatter, all day and all night." 
 
 Fairly's heart beat quick as she returned to her 
 room, and some compunction, too, arose in her mind 
 at having been drawn in to speak so freely on her 
 master's concerns ; and when, with penitent looks, she 
 had placed everything for his use with the greatest 
 care, she returned to finish her own tea, and chat with 
 er friend, she thought it only right to endeavor, as 
 as possible, to do away any impression she might 
 have imbibed to the disadvantage of her good master, 
 and to admit that she had been to blame in speaking 
 of him so much and so freely, even to her intimate 
 friend. She, therefore, talked a great deal to Mrs. 
 Flitters, on the duty which it was in all housekeepers, 
 but herself in particular, to abstain from all idle bab- 
 bling ; and she confessed that if it were to come over 
 again, she would bum her fingers before she would ever 
 commit such a breach of trust, and gave Mrs. Flitters 
 much good advice, and a s* ict injunction never to
 
 HOME, la HOME. 81 
 
 speak of what had been said, to anybody. To all of 
 which Flitters was ready to take her " Bible oath " 
 conscientiously to attend. But, alas ! when once a se- 
 cret has escaped the lips, no power can recall it, and 
 Fairly felt abashed and ashamed at having been so 
 wanting in proper discretion. 
 
 Again her master's bell rung; and again she stood 
 by his side, self-condemned and ill at ease Nor were 
 her sensations at all more composed when her master 
 said, " Company ', Fairly, to-night, hey ? some gossip or 
 other I suppose ? hey ?" But she only curtsied, and 
 moved towards the door, saying, in a subdued tone as 
 she reached it : " Oh, not company, sir, only the adja- 
 cent housekeeper." 
 
 " What ! Mrs. Flitters, hey ? Well, she's properly 
 named, however ; a silly, flutter-about thing, I'm afraid. 
 Well, well, never mind, she'll soon learn more discretion 
 under your good teaching, Fairly. And I don't think 
 the worse of her for seeking your society." 
 
 Poor Fairly retired, quite overcome with remorse, 
 feeling how little she deserved this unusual kindness 
 in her master, and she mentally vowed jx vow of silence 
 upon all family secrets in future.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 WHEN Kate Sinclair awoke after her firs* night's sleep 
 in her strange abode, it was with vague and undefined 
 recollection of the circumstances in which she and her 
 family were now placed. Nor could she for a time un- 
 loose the faculties of her sense* sufficiently to realize 
 the difficulties by which they were surrounded ; but 
 every object upon which her eye rested, served to bring 
 before her the reality of the sad change which had be- 
 fallen them : and she strove to rouse in her mind every 
 principle which could assist her in humbly submitting 
 to the painful situation, into which they had been be- 
 trayed. The greatest source of comfort was the con- 
 viction. ':hat these misfortunes were not in the smallest 
 degree attributable to any fault in her beloved parents. 
 But how best to obviate them, she in vain endeavored 
 to provide ; she, however, took the resolution of exert- 
 ing all her best powers for this purpose, and decided 
 that as soon as she could see her family in some degree 
 accustomed to their present embarrassing position, she 
 would seek 'some situation as governess, or even as a 
 humble companion, and thus endeavor to earn a main- 
 tenance for herself, and perhaps some assistance for her 
 family. Meanwhile, she would try to get some occupa- 
 tion for her pencil. Alas ! poor Kate had yet to learn
 
 HOMEISHOME. bd 
 
 how many are the difficulties which poveJty ever places 
 in the path of talent. * 
 
 But it was time to quit these dreamy cogita- 
 tions and to awaken her little sisters. " Rosy," aa 
 they always called her, soon wound her little sleepy 
 arms round Kate, and murmured in her ear some 
 words of love and affection ; then sitting up she rubbed 
 her eyes and shook back the clusters of shining curls 
 from her warm cheek, and, holding open the curtains 
 of her little bed, she looked about on the homely room, 
 with all its poor appointments, and said, " Oh Katie, 
 dear, what a strange place, where am I, and where 
 are Emily and nurse 1 Oh, I remember now, but I 
 do not like this old shabby place at all, why do we 
 stay here, dear Kate ?" A little fondling and soothing 
 soon appeased her childish sorrow, and Kate, ever 
 ready to sacrifice her own feelings for the sake of 
 others, exerted herself to cheer and amuse her little 
 sisters while she dressed them; then, having heard 
 them repeat their simple prayer, she went forth from 
 her chamber refreshed and comforted. She found her 
 parents seated by the empty grate, for they had not 
 yet admitted Honor to light their fire and arrange 
 their room. By a little exertion, however, all was 
 soon rendered more comfortable, the fire soon burnt 
 brightly, and the good Honor was active and dexterous 
 in averting every little trouble or inconvenience which 
 arose, and by her ready tact and cheerful deportment 
 obviated many annoyances. At about twelve o'clock, 
 she was despatched to procure some wood and vegeta- 
 bles : as she passed Miss Moffat's door she caught a 
 Deep at the interior of her room, and there she saw
 
 84 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 the little Scotch girl^ whom they had ^11 so much ad- 
 mired on the preceding evening, but she was evidently 
 in trouble, and Miss Moffat was talking to her very 
 earnestly. On seeing Honor she rose, and coming to 
 the door she inquired very kindly for all the family. 
 
 " How are they a' the naorn' ? I've mickle fear tha 
 are na sae weel accommodated as I could wuss, but 
 we'el see what can be done." To which Honor re- 
 turned an assurance that all was very well and com- 
 fortable, though to be " shure it's a sad change /or 
 them all, that's sartain : but they are all in good health, 
 I thank the Lord for that same." She then inquired 
 her way to Mrs. Crump's, and having been directed to 
 No. 21 in the same street, she departed on her errand, 
 and Miss Moffat returned to her weeping charge. 
 But as this interruption had somewhat lengthened 
 poor Maggie's term of disgrace, Miss Moffat contented 
 herself by adding to the long sermon on truth, which 
 for the last hour she had been pouring into the ea*rs of 
 the penitent child, by saying in conclusion, " An noo, 
 Maggie, I've telt ye my mind ; and shown ye the 
 wickedness o' leeing. I sail say nae mair, gin ye'll 
 gie me your promise to seek by the Lord's grace to 
 avoid the like faut in future. And gin ye mind what I 
 say, an be a gude lassie, ye sail live wi me an be nae 
 mair expo&it io the dangers and temptations of this 
 weeked toon." 
 
 Maggie sobbed and promised amendment, and said, 
 " Oh, Miss Moffat, if it had na been for you, I suld hae 
 been starvit to death. An noo I'll strive to be a gude 
 lassie an mind yer bidding an yer teching in a' things !" 
 little Maggie was an orphan whom Miss Moffat
 
 HOMEISHOME. 85 
 
 had been led to pity and protect. It happened one day, 
 in the " gloaming of a summer's e'en," as Miss Moffat 
 would call a summer's evening, that she was called to 
 her window, by the (to her) heart-stirring sounds of 
 bagpipes, which gave forth the old Scottish tune of 
 Maggie Lawdor with all the energy and zest which a 
 true Highlander could alone have produced, and after 
 waiting some time, and listening to the well-known 
 strains, nodding her head in time to its measure, and 
 then, though no songstress, joining in the tune which 
 recalled so many early recollections and pleasant me- 
 mories, she leant out of the window in the hope of see- 
 ing some emigrant " fra her ain dear kintra ;" when at 
 the end of the street, and walking slowly up the car- 
 riage-way, she saw an old Highland piper with his bag- 
 pipes under his arm. His tartan kilt, though old and 
 worn, still bore the fashion of his clan, and his brawny 
 legs were bare to the knees ; his brow was shaded by a 
 Scotch bonnet, from beneath which floated on the sum- 
 mer breeze his long locks of silvery grey. By his side 
 was a pretty fair girl, who also wore the dress of her 
 country, and whose glossy, shining hair fell on her 
 shoulders unrestrained by cap or bonnet. As they 
 walked her " saft blue een" were upward turned to gaze 
 upon the face of the old man; and sorrowful and 
 mournful was her glance ; for this was evidently his ex- 
 piring effort, as sickness and sorrow had done their 
 work, and the poor old man would not often again 
 awaken the sounds which he so dearly loved. For his 
 Maggie's sake he had defied the grief and hunger 
 which were gnawing at his heart, and had come forth 
 once more to seek the means of providing bread for his
 
 86 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 little Maggie. Her name induced the recollection of 
 the air which he was playing, and it was the last sound 
 of music that ever fell upon his ear. 
 
 As he approached towards the end of the street, 
 Miss Moffat saw that he looked faint and weary, and 
 the sounds of the bagpipes became every moment more 
 feeble. She watched the pair with much interest as 
 they came nearer and nearer to her window, and pres- 
 ently the music ceased altogether, and he saw the little 
 girl gently take the instrument from the old man's 
 hand and strive to guide his tottering frame, but it was 
 a vain effort, for, after a very few more steps, he became 
 so weak and faint, that he staggered and would have 
 fallen, but for the kind aid of a passing stranger. Miss 
 Moffat, whose sympathy had now reached its climax, 
 hastily throwing on a shawl, rushed into the street, and 
 approaching the now weeping and frightened child, 
 said, in her broadest Scotch dialect, " Hech, lassie, dinna 
 greet! May be he's only faint, an he'll be better 
 presently; dinna greet, there's a gude lassie." At 
 the sound of the well-known tongue, the child caught 
 holl of the " kind leddy's goun," and said, " Hech, 
 sirs ! but I'm feared he's dying, for he's been ill this 
 mony a day, and he wad'na bide at hame, ye see, but 
 has been aboot the streets a' this het wearyfu' day !" 
 By this time several people had surrounded the poor 
 man, and Miss Moffat directed that he should be 
 brought into her house, which, by the aid of one or two 
 of the standers by, was soon effected. Here, placed in 
 an easy chair in the hall, Miss Moffat kindly adminis- 
 tered to him some warm wine and other restoratives, 
 and soon she had the satisfaction of seeing him par-
 
 HOME IS HOME. . 87 
 
 tially recovered, though it was evident that his days on 
 earth would be few. Miss Moffat now inquired of the 
 child where they lived, and why they were " sae far frae 
 their kintra?" 
 
 And she told her that her name was " Maggie Don- 
 aldson," that the old man was her grandfather, and that 
 she was an orphan ; and then went on to say, " Ye see, 
 ma'am, daddy was a piper in a Highland regiment, and 
 he did na marry sae sune in life as some folk do ; but 
 when he came frae the wars, ye ken, leddy, he met wi 
 grandfather, and he had but ano child, ' his Jessy,' as 
 he always called her, and sae, ye see, daddy sune luved 
 her, and then they were married, and they lived in a 
 dear little cot by the burnside, and there, leddy, I was 
 born, an' we a' lived thegither ; an' oh ! but we war 
 unco happy, tull daddy took the fever an' died. An' 
 oh ! but it was a sair heart that my dear mither carried 
 wi' her abune twa years, and then, leddy, we laid her in 
 the kirk-yard aside my ain dear daddy ; that day puir 
 granddad lost his sense, an' he wandered awa wi' his 
 bagpipes, an' I followed him at night, for ye ken the 
 hoose was unco lanesome for me an' I by me lane, sae 
 I went after him, and sune I found him sitting aneath 
 the tree that he aye callet ' his Jessy's trysting tree,' 
 whar she used to meet puir daddy, when he was coming 
 hame at e'en fra his wark ; and there he sat, leddy, 
 lukeing varra sad, an' playing on the pipes. "When I 
 cam near him, he rose up an' patted me on the head, 
 an' callit me ' a wee birdie,' an' said, ' ye mind me o' 
 my Jessie ; but ye're mair like little Meg ;' an' then he 
 lookit at me, an' the tears ran down his puir auld face, 
 an' tha' did his heart gude, for he seemed muir like to
 
 hisself ; but I could na win him hame, an' I could na 
 leave him, an' sae ye see we cam awa thegither, an' he 
 wad play upon the hagpipes a' the day, an' kind folk 
 took pity on us, an' aft they gave us food an' milk, an' 
 some gude people gave me some claiths ; an' sae, ye see. 
 at last we got to London, an' here awhile we got mair 
 money than we could hae expectit, an' granddad took a 
 room for us to bide in thegither, an' he got much mair 
 since, an' we seemed like to be happier ; but the last 
 three days we have had but little money giv' us, an' the 
 weather is het, ye see, an' granddad has na had enough 
 to eat, and sae he has got weaker, and mair daft a gude 
 deal ; an' noo, I'm thinking, he'll may be no be long wi' 
 me; an' wae's me! I sail hae nae ain left to luve 
 me!" 
 
 During this simple recital Miss Moffat's tears fell 
 fast, and at times the faded blue eyes of the aged man 
 were fixed on Maggie, as if he caught some idea of the 
 meaningof her tale, and Miss Moffat heard a deep sigh 
 whenever "his Jessy's" name was mentioned. Poor 
 little Maggie watched him all the time she was telling 
 her story, and handed the wine to him, giving him her 
 ready aid whenever it was needed, and before the close 
 of the narration, she had won for herself a large share of 
 Miss Moffat's kind heart and good opinion. It was now 
 getting late, and Maggie made her granddal understand 
 that it was time to go hame ; so the old man with her 
 assistance rose, and thanked the gude leddy for her 
 kindness, and telling his grand-child to " tak great care 
 o' the bread winner," he donned his bonnet, and pre- 
 pared to depart. Miss Moffat felt a great desire to see 
 more of the interesting child and her poor daft grand
 
 HOME IS HOME. 89 
 
 father, she therefore followed them at a little listance, 
 determining to make inquiries, and resolving, if it proved 
 to be a true story, to render them all the assistance 
 which her very limited means would allow. She watched 
 the child as she gently led the poor old man,. and guided 
 carefully his feeble steps, or waited while he stopped to 
 recover his breath. Sometimes he would try to take 
 from her his favourite instrument, when she would gently 
 pc t back his hand, saying, " Na, na, dear, ye're unco 
 weak ; ye sail hae it the morrow !" And thus they 
 pursued their way through two streets, when they 
 turned into a narrow court, at the end of which they 
 stopped at the door of a small, dingy-looking brick 
 tenement, where a young woman was standing, with a 
 baby in her arms. As they approached her, Miss Moffat 
 heard her say to them, " Why, Meg ! I thought you'd 
 never come back to-day. What ! has the old man been 
 worse ? Well, come in, and get your tea, for you look 
 tired to death, poor child !" They then all went into 
 the house together. 
 
 Miss Moffat did not like to follow them lest they 
 should be vexed at her having watched them home ; she 
 therefore waited a few moments till the woman she 
 had before seen again made her appearance at the door, 
 where she seemed to find refreshment from the cool 
 evening air after the hot close day. Miss Moffat now 
 addressed her, and asked her many questions about 
 Maggie and her grandfather ; and finding that the little 
 girl's account appeared to be an " ower true tale," she 
 desired the woman to tell Maggie to keep the old man 
 at home till he was better, and that she would send 
 them some " brose and ilka things that was needfu.''
 
 90 HOMEISHOME. 
 
 For many succeeding days poor Miss Moft'at's table 
 was ill supplied with even necessary food, while her 
 poor old countryman fared better than he had for a 
 long time. Miss Moffat visited him, too, ever day, and 
 cheered his now fast declining hours. At the end of a 
 week it was evident that his end was approaching, and 
 she found poor little Maggie sitting on a low stool by 
 his side, weeping bitterly, and vainly endeavoring to 
 restore warmth to the thin hand which she was holding 
 to her lips. Miss Moffat cheered and comforted the 
 old man, whose fading faculties were for a moment 
 lighted up by her assurance that " poor little Meg 
 should go hame witti her," and she was rewarded by a 
 sweet placid smile from the dying man. Maggie too 
 was recognised, and her loving pressure of his hand re- 
 turned by a feeble grasp. And then all was over, and 
 the kind, good Scotchwoman took to her home the little 
 weeping orphan <md " was unto her as a mother"
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 AFTER receiving Miss Moffat's clear directions to Mrs. 
 Crump's the greengrocer's, No. 21, Honor descended 
 the steps, shaking out her umbrella and raising it over 
 her head, and then carefully picking her way at a pace 
 between walking and running, she proceeded as fast as 
 she could towards the shop in question ; but before she 
 had' advanced many steps a well known salutation met 
 her ears, and brought the quick blush to her cheek. 
 " The top of the morning to ye, Honor mavoureen," 
 and Rory, with a large parcel under his arm, crept 
 under the shade of her umbrella, and peeped into her 
 face, with his kind, bright eye and speaking smile. 
 " An' whar will ye be going ? an' its och but I was quite 
 right me darlint ; for thinks I, shure she'll be afther 
 coming out for some arn't at about twelve, for she knows 
 if iver I can run away from the work, why its always 
 at dinner time." " Rory, ye don't think I'd fix the 
 hour on the purpose to meet ye." But Rory only 
 laughed, and insisted upon carrying the umbrella ; and 
 telling her all that he could find utterance for of his 
 love, and regrets at her being come " into such a far-off 
 street;" and then they paused and chatted, and then 
 Honor looked up, and found the shop they were stand- 
 ing near was No. 120, and so they had to retrace their
 
 92 HOMEISHOME. 
 
 steps, and somehow or other they did not find Mra 
 Crump's shop for more than half an hour : however 
 there they we're at last, the umbrella was closed, and 
 the lovers stood another moment in the shelter of the 
 doorway, and then, pushing open a sort of half door 
 making a sharp little bell ring till they started at the 
 sound which would summon stranger eyes and ears, they 
 both entered the shop and tried to look as if they did 
 not belong to each other, or any one in particular. The 
 shop was redolent of scents of various kinds celery, 
 apples, and all sorts of sweet herbs lent their fragrant 
 odors : festoons of onions hung round the walls, and 
 formed a sort of triumphal arch over the head of Mrs 
 Crump, who, in a gown of many colors and towering 
 cap, stood behind her counter. Mrs. Crump was very 
 short and very fat, and her cheeks seemed to descend in 
 soft bags on to her short neck ; the band, round that part 
 of the figure which was supposed to represent the waist, 
 lest it should quite disappear was fastened loosely with 
 a very large white pin ; this band afforded great recrea- 
 tion to Mrs. Crump, as it was constantly requiring new 
 placing, the large pin, meanwhile, finding a safe hiding- 
 place in Mrs. Crump's wide mouth : and as Mrs. Crump 
 had just found this arrangement of her dress needful, 
 it was not until Honor had a little recovered herself 
 that she was asked the usual question of " What can I 
 do for you, ma'am ?" Honor's errand was soon told, 
 and Mrs. Crump waddled across her shop, unpinning 
 and pinning as she went, and dived into a sort of cellar 
 to find the little bundles of firewood, and to pick from 
 her baskets some of her finest potatoes. During this 
 time Honor and Kory got a few more words at the door
 
 HOMEISHOME. 93 
 
 together, and while they were thus standing and whis- 
 pering another customer approached the counter and 
 addressed Mrs. Crump, who had now returned to her 
 triumphal arch. This was a woman in a faded black 
 gown, with a small old black bonnet, and a weather- 
 Btainei red shawl ; she asked Mrs. Crump the price of 
 apples, taking one up in her hand, and pushing her 
 thumb well into its yellow skin, making a deep inden- 
 tation in the mealy fruit, she asked the price. " Three 
 a penny, missis, and cheap enough I knows: vy, they 
 cost me more." The woman felt in her pocket and found 
 a penny, and taking up from the heap in the window 
 three of the largest she could see, moved towards the 
 door. She paused as she passed Honor, and took a 
 hasty survey of her and her lover, and then went out of 
 the shop munching an apple. 
 
 When she was gone, Mrs. Crump observed. " Veil, 
 I'm glad she has made up her mind, for I'm blessed if 
 she hasn't looked at them apples twenty times this ere 
 blessed morning ; but there hisn't no pleasing them un- 
 fort'nate critturs as hasn't got above a penny in their 
 pockets." 
 
 Honor's things were now all ready, and she with 
 Rory, departed ; but it will be believed they did not 
 reach home immediately, for Rory had much to say. 
 The parcel which he carried was the treasured work- 
 box for Miss Kate, and how to dispose of it so as to 
 prevent her guessing who had sent it to her puzzled 
 poor Rory's brains. " Ye see, Honor," he said, " ye 
 must understhand not to let her be thinking that I 
 well there, ye knows me maning, set it in its place, 
 and there let her find it ; but dont let her feel that
 
 94 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 she owes it to such a poor gossoon as jiory. Howiy 
 ver, I needn't be telling ye, Honor, for I. know ye 
 won't do anything but what's befitting us, and proper 
 like, but I'm stupid at the maning. Well, here's the 
 box, an' now when will I see ye again ? sure ye'll come 
 out at twelve o'clock when yc can ; but I musn't stay now. 
 so every blessing be ab^ut ye, and God be wid ye." 
 
 The kind, good-hearted fellow gave the box into 
 Honor's care, and ran off. Honor watched him for a 
 few moments, and then slowly ascended the steps of 
 the house; standing again for a moment when she 
 reached the door, she saw the woman in the red shawl 
 pass and look up at her and then go on her way, eat- 
 ing an apple as she walked. Honor thought it strange, 
 for this woman had several times crossed her path 
 while she was with Rory, and seemed certainly to have 
 some object in making her out ; and Honor could not 
 help thinking that she had seen her before. " Where 
 could it have been?" well, she could not remember, 
 and " it was of no manner of consequence." So she 
 closed the door, and went up stairs, to account in the 
 best way she could for her long absence. 
 
 Mrs. Sinclair was resting on her bed, and Mr. Sin- 
 clair was seated at a table, moodily looking over some 
 bills and papers. Honor quietly passed through the 
 room and knocked at Kate's door, which was partly 
 opened instantly by little Rose, who held up her finger 
 and told Honor to be still, and not speak a word, for 
 what they were doing was a great secret. Kate was 
 sitting in the middle of the room, and was busily occu- 
 pied in cutting in lengths some blue striped printed cot- 
 ton, of a common description, whilst Emily was running
 
 HOME IS HOME. 95 
 
 some of these lengths together, and Charles was mak- 
 ing a sort of frame-work of upright flat pieces oi 
 wood, at the distance of two or three feet apart ; all 
 were busy, and Honor much wondered what could be 
 the purpose or intention of their work ; but Charles 
 soon let her into the secret, by telling her that they 
 were trying to make a long partition to screen the bed- 
 room part of the studio from the part which they occu- 
 pied as a sitting-room. Charles said he had been put- 
 ting the frame together ever since he came there ; and 
 that fortunately Kate had found among their clothing 
 some whole pieces of blue striped print, which had been 
 intended for another purpose at home, and now they 
 should make a complete division across the narrowest 
 part of the room, which would make " dear mamma" so 
 much more comfortable. Honor was strictly enjoined, 
 secrecy, as it must still occupy some days before it 
 could be ready to put in its place. Honor begged to 
 be employed, and it was settled that in the evenings 
 she should lend her aid in putting the breadths of print 
 together ; she was quite delighted to see all the party so 
 happily engaged, and felt great relief at being asked 
 no questions relative to her absence. 
 
 It was now time to make some preparations for their 
 frugal dinner, and Honor departed to get everything 
 ready ; but she soon came back, and called out Charles, 
 who was surprised to hear that he was wanted by Miss 
 Moffatt in the hall, and still more so, when he found 
 that good lady standing in the midst of a large assem- 
 blage of packages of all sorts and descriptions, which 
 she assured him were " a' dircckit to him and his 
 fjiinily." Everything was so carefully envelojied in
 
 96 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 pieces of matting that nothing could be seen "of then 
 contents, but all were directed in a stiff school-boy'i 
 hand to some member of his family. What could they 
 all be, and where could they be come from ? All thai 
 Miss Moffatt knew was, that while she herself was 
 gone out a man had arrived with a spring waggon at her 
 door, and had told Maggie that he was to " put them 
 goods inside, in the hall ;" that the child, supposing they 
 belonged to her mistress, had received them ; and that 
 as soon as all the things were safely deposited the 
 man drove off; that he stopped again directly, and took 
 up a woman into the van, and then they drove away as 
 fast as they could. "While this account was given, 
 Charles was busily employed in examining one of the 
 packages which was directed to " Master Charles Sin- 
 clair." First one bit of matting and them another 
 was removed, and then a hayband was untwisted, till 
 at length there could be no doubt as to its contents. 
 Uttering a cry of real delight, Charles summoned Honor 
 to " lend a hand," and between them this treasure, what- 
 ever it might be, was safely landed on the top of the 
 stairs, and Honor was directed in a whisper to go and 
 collect all the party in the outer room, and then to 
 come to him again. While she was gone, Charles took 
 off all the coverings which obscured his cherished trea- 
 sure, and wiped the dust from every part of it, and then, 
 on being summoned by the servant, ran into the room, 
 saying, " Robinson Crusoe's first return from the wreck," 
 and placed before their astonished eyes his tavorite little 
 turning-lathe, and the set of chessmen he had been so 
 busily engaged in making for his dear mother. All 
 now crowded round Charles, and on hearing his account
 
 HOMEISHOME. 97 
 
 of the things which were below, they joined in declaring 
 their readiness to accompany Eobinson on this next 
 expedition, and even Mr. Sinclair agreed _to " lend a 
 hand." 
 
 Speedily were the things unpacked, and carried up 
 into the studio. Emily and Rose clapped their hands 
 with joy and delight, when " Crusoe," as they called 
 him, announced that the two little nursery bedsteads, 
 with all their belongings, were among the next cargo on 
 " the raft." By degrees everything was unpacked, and 
 examined, and great was the happiness of the children 
 when they found that dear papa's painting materials and 
 easel were amongst the recovered treasures. "Dear 
 Katie's " pretty French bed and writing-table were also 
 there j a few nice drawings in water colors, and a 
 pretty work-box, which belonged to Mrs. Sinclair : 
 in short, no one was forgotten, and all were happy and 
 grateful to their unknown friend and benefactor. One 
 large package still remained unopened in the hall ; stand- 
 ing in a dark corner, it had been overlooked ; and this 
 proved to be a nice carpet, of which Charles took pos- 
 session, and determined to keep it in his own room 
 till the new partition was completed. 
 
 They were now all busily employed in arranging 
 and placing everything in the nicest order ; and for 
 days all felt the relief afforded by constant, active occu- 
 pation, and Kate had the unspeakable comfort of see- 
 ing her father and. mother gradually assuming their 
 usually cheerful manner. During these pleasing occu- 
 rpations, the minds of all were busy in forming surmi- 
 ses and conjectures as to who could have so kindly con- 
 sidered them in their present difficulties ; but no clue 
 5
 
 US HOMEISHOME 
 
 appeared which could at all elucidate the mystery. On 
 opening one package, which they supposed had been in- 
 tended to be the first to meet their eye, for it was mark- 
 ed No. I, a card fell on the floor, with these words : 
 " A loan from a friend ne'er can wound or offend :" and 
 as a loan Mr. Sinclair resolved to accept the benefit for 
 his children's sake, earnestly hoping the day might come 
 when his secret friend would declare himself and per- 
 mit him in some form or other to repay him, In a 
 few days Charles' screen was finished, when, taking 
 advantage of the temporary absence of his mother, who 
 now took a short walk each day with Mr. Sinclair, the 
 children, with Honor's assistance, got the carpet laid 
 and the partition erected." This screen was about six 
 feet high, and with its pretty striped blue facing, added 
 much to the snug and neat appearance of the room. 
 The carpet, too, fitted nicely, now that the room was 
 smaller, and when unrolled, a warm rug had been found 
 within its folds, which rug Charles placed before the 
 fire, and then the children quickly arranged the furni- 
 ture, and placed the plaster busts and figures round the 
 room in the most picturesque groups. A few small 
 billets of wood were thrown on the fire and sent up a 
 bright and cheerful blaze, and Honor exclaimed with 
 delight, " Och, thin, it's the blessing from the Lord 
 entirely, when the childer provides for the comfort of 
 their parents, and may His blessing be upon ye all for 
 iver and iver. Amen." 
 
 And now a sound is heard, and Charles says, " Here 
 they come : Kate, Rose, Emily, sit down, sit down. Ho 
 nor, dear, you must stay to see their surprise, so you 
 CJfn open the door. There now, all is ready : oh, it is
 
 HOME JS HOME. 99 
 
 most charming." Charles cut a caper, kissed his sisters 
 all round, shook hands with Honor, and was in an ec 
 stasy of happiness when the door was opened, and the 
 dear ones, for whom these kind exertions had been made, 
 entered, exclaiming, " Oh, how nice ! how very, very 
 nice ! how has all this been managed, my dear, good 
 children ?" Mr. Sinclair's lip quivered as he took the 
 hands of Kate and Charles, and looked with fond affec- 
 tion and pride on the sweet, happy and confiding coun- 
 tenances of his children. Everything was now duly 
 admired, and the great improvements much com- 
 mended. The evening closed in peace, and even cheer- 
 fulness ; and, while offering up from his inmost heart a 
 thanksgiving to that God who had bestowed on him the 
 unspeakable blessing of such good and amiable children, 
 Mr. Sinclair blushed at the recollection of his own de- 
 spondency and want of energy, and he determined to 
 imitate the virtue which in others he so much admired. 
 Long and bitter was the communion which he held that 
 night with his own heart : how had he indulged in 
 grief and anxiety ! how helplessly was he yielding to 
 the torrent which threatened to overwhelm him in 
 utter and entire ruin, and the still voice was heard, 
 which bade him " up, and be doing," and to " wake 
 from the sleep of indolence, which was his besetting 
 sin." The thoughts and feelings of that night were as 
 wholesome medicine to the mind diseased, and the 
 morning saw him an altered being. 
 
 A clear investigation of his accounts was now under- 
 taken. Mr. Pleydell had written to him, and stated 
 the result of the sale, and also that some creditors were 
 willing to give time for the settlement of their accounts j
 
 100 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 so that there would be a small sum to meet present ex- 
 igencies. All this was in some measure cheering, but it 
 was evident that all must exert themselves. Kate hail- 
 ed with real pleasure the altered demeanor of her father, 
 and she now ventured to propose to him that she should 
 seek a home in some family as a governess. It was a 
 struggle, but consent was given, and Kate lost no time 
 in writing to her former governess Miss Hartop, re- 
 questing her to aid her in seeking some situation which 
 might suit one so inexperienced as she felt herself to 
 be, in the arduous task of tuition : but some days must 
 elapse ere Kate could receive an answer to this letter, 
 as Miss Hartop was, as she believed, with some family 
 in Scotland.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 IT was now the second week in December, and a bright 
 clear frost had succeeded to the dull and foggy days of 
 the last month. Charles and his sisters took short 
 walks near home, but all longed for the freedom and 
 recreations to which at this season they had always been 
 accustomed.. None, however, would whisper even 
 their secret wishes, and they steadily pursued their 
 self-imposed duties and employments. 
 
 One morning, when Charles had been irresistibly 
 drawn to the window, and was standing meditating 
 within himself the possibility of proposing a long walk 
 into the country, and wondering whether it would be 
 infringing on the laws of seclusion which he believc-d 
 had been decided upon, he was surprised and delighted 
 by his father's suddenly saying, " Come, Charles, I see 
 the bright sun has been tempting you to run away from 
 the restraints imposed upon you, and I can quite enter 
 into all your feelings, my boy ; what say you to a long 
 walk ? Suppose you go to Fairburn, and call on your 
 old acquaintances tha Hunters. I dare say they will 
 give you such a welcome as you have often given to 
 them in former days. 
 
 This was indeed delightful : not that he cared for 
 the Hunters, at least not all of them, but it would be
 
 102 HOME IS HOME 
 
 so charming after such a long absence from all his 
 friends ; and Charles, uttering his thanks, hastily de- 
 scended to his room to prepare for what he felt was 
 quite an event. 
 
 Mr. Sinclair took the opportunity of his absence to 
 explain to his wife, that he had been for some days con- 
 sidering that, as there was no necessity for the restraint 
 he had imposed, it would only be right to let the young 
 people mix occasionally with their old acquaintances, 
 and give them, perhaps, an opportunity of interesting 
 others in their future prospects in life, adding, " Mr. 
 Hunter, you know, is well connected, and has, I believe, 
 some influence which might be useful to Charles, and 
 it is only a duty to put him in the way of benefiting by 
 his friendly interest." 
 
 In a short time Charles appeared, dressed as in hap- 
 pier days, and with a bright look of self-gratulation and 
 delighted anticipation, he hastily received some fare- 
 well instructions and directions from his father and ran 
 off, half fearing a recall, indeed not feeling at all sure 
 that he really should be allowed such a happiness ; and 
 it was not till he had passed through two streets that 
 he could induce himself to give up the idea that every 
 footstep behind him was some emissary come to fetch 
 him back, and he almost ran that he might get as 
 quickly as possible out of such a dangerous proximity. 
 
 Fairburn was about a mile and a half beyond 
 Belmont, but, by taking a short cut, Charles intended 
 to avoid passing the dear old house, resolving to 
 keep out of the way of all who would recognize him 
 till he had seen the Hunters ; and now he had passed 
 all the streets and turned into the lanes which led to
 
 HOME IS HOME. 103 
 
 Fairburn ; the roads were hard and crisp, and a beau- 
 tiful hoar frost bespangled every tree and spray, 
 lighted brilliantly by a mid-day sun ; some snow had 
 fallen, and still in places the ground was white and 
 shining. Charles' spirits rose to a bounding height, 
 and he could scarcely resist joining a party of boys 
 who were sliding on a pond which he was passing, but 
 a glance at his bright boots, and the recollection that 
 he must appear to the best advantage at Fairburn 
 checked him, and suddenly pushing the end of his 
 walking-stick through some crackling ice on his path, 
 he began to soliloquize on his probable reception from 
 the Hunters. " I wonder what they'll all be doing, 
 and whether Flora will be there ? Mrs. Hunter is al- 
 ways kind, but I have known the boys strange some- 
 times Frank is shy but we are such old acquaint- 
 ances surely they will not like me the less, because we 
 are become poor and unfortunate !" But the bright 
 expectations which had hitherto been indulged re- 
 ceived a sudden check, and Charles began to look 
 himself over with an anxiety as to his appearance 
 which he had never felt before; well, on he went, 
 however, and now the park paling, which separated the 
 grounds from the public path, was passed, and Charles 
 entered the handsome iron gate which admitted him 
 to the sloping lawn leading up to the house ; passing 
 along by the side of a small piece of water, he paused 
 to look at the dear old boat now safe in its picturesque 
 boat-house and to notice the many marks of skates 
 on the ice, and as he proceeded up the carriage-road 
 to the house, he was struck with the beauty of the 
 trees and shrubs, which were chiefly evergreens, and
 
 104 H M E I S II O M E. 
 
 were now decorated with sparkling wreaths of the 
 light silvery snow and hoar frost. As he approached 
 the house, he saw one of the boys at the window, and, 
 as he instantly turned away, Charles thought, " All 
 right : there's Spencer, and he's coming, I'm sure, to 
 meet me ;" reaching at last the door of entrance, which 
 was at the side of the house, he stopped a moment, 
 thinking that " surely Spencer would soon join him, 
 and that he should feel less uncomfortable than if he 
 went in by himself," and then wondering, "why he 
 felt afraid now, more than in former days," he decided 
 that such feelings were quite " unworthy of a gentle- 
 man, and very idle and foolish," and he magnanimously 
 pulled the large bell-handle at the side of the portico, 
 but the loud twanging sound of the bell, which ap- 
 peared to Charles to ring longer and louder than he 
 had ever before heard it, banished his newly acquired 
 courage, and Charles felt with some annoyance, that 
 his heart was beating and his cheek blushing, when 
 the servant opened the door. " Yes, they were all at 
 home," was the answer to his inquiry, and Charlea 
 followed the man into the house, and turned on the 
 right into the well-known drawing-room. 
 
 . Mrs. Hunter was seated at a writing-table near a 
 window, and by her side sat a girl of about fifteen, very 
 pretty and very fair, with a delicate figure and fashion- 
 ably long waist ; by the fire at each end of the rug aud 
 in easy chairs sat, or rather lounged, two young men of 
 eighteen and twenty, and a younger boy was standing 
 busily watching the gambols of a Skye terrier whose 
 wiry hairs were bristling with excitement, as the elder 
 lads incited him to fly across the rug, and snap at the
 
 HOME IS HOME. 105 
 
 shining boots which were held out in pretended effort 
 to tread upon his feet. All this was seen in a moment, 
 as the man ushered Charles in, and, at his name being 
 announced, Mrs. Hunter immediately rose and held out 
 her hand, addressing him as " Charles" and kindly in- 
 quiring for " all at home :" but, kind as she was, Charles 
 could not feel quite as much at ease as usual, and he 
 felt that he was shy and constrained ; the young men 
 rose, and languidly addressed him., and Flora also held 
 out her hand. " Nothing to complai of," thought 
 Charles, and he tried to " be as usual," but he felt the 
 absence of cordiality ; and presently the elder boys be- 
 gan, by sly snaps of the finger and thumb, and whisper- 
 ed words of encouragement, to excite " Tackle" to fresh 
 play and fun, but no look included Charles, and an 
 awkward pause induced Mrs. Hunter to propose that 
 Spencer, the younger one, should go and see if Mr. 
 Hunter was in the study, saying, " that she was sure he 
 would wish to see Charles." Spencer, whose ambition 
 it was to follow the lead of his brothers, passed Charles 
 without much notice, and in a few moments the elder 
 lads summoned Tackle, and muttering something about 
 the " governor," sauntered out of the room. Mrs. Hunter 
 felt annoyed, and pitying Charles' look of distress she in- 
 sisted upon his coming near the fire, and tried to induce 
 Flora to tajk a little ; but Flora was shy, or at least such 
 was the excuse which Chai-les mentally admitted, and for 
 some moments an embarrassing, silence prevailed, bro- 
 ken only by sudden questions from Mrs. Hunter, which 
 were speedily answered, and silence again ensued ; at 
 last Charles rose and walked to the window, from whence 
 he could see the pond on which he had passed so many 
 5*
 
 106 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 hours in winter and summer, and there he now saw the 
 elder Hunters enjoying a brisk run on their skates, fol- 
 lowed by Tackle who was evidently in a state of great 
 delight : in another moment Spencer ran down the lawn 
 and joined his brothers. For a few moments Charles 
 stood silently indulging in a reverie, ^ hich certainly 
 did not act very favorably on his opinion of his former 
 friends, but he was roused from these cogitations by 
 Mrs. Hunter, who said, " Surely that idle boy forgot 
 to tell his papa that you are here, Charles ; I'll go my- 
 self and find him." 
 
 As soon as she had left the room, Flora rose and 
 walked to the window which corresponded with that at 
 which Charles stood, and stooping down, she took from 
 the white mat on which it lay, a favourite little black 
 and white spaniel which had been for some time curled 
 round in a most reposing attitude ; holding up its little 
 black face, she fondly patted it, and stroked and pulled 
 its long and black ears, saying, in a very soft voice, 
 " Tiny, sweet Tiny, oh, you dear little soft idle thing ; 
 isn't she pretty, Charles ? She will never grow any 
 larger, and she is such a darling ;" and Flora walked 
 towards Charles, cares&ing Tiny as she approached him. 
 Glad of some occupation, Charles stroked and admired 
 the animal; and then feeling that with Flora he might 
 throw off some of his newly acquired restraint, he said, 
 " And you, too, Flora, seem to have decided that it is 
 time to forget me." 
 
 " Not at all, not so, I assure you. Charles ; but every 
 body seemed so stiff and so cold, that I did -not know 
 what I had better say or do ; but I hate such silly 
 . and T cannot think where Percy and Edward
 
 HOVE IS HOME. 107 
 
 have acquired such foolish notions. I am but a child, 
 Charles, but you will believe me, I know, when I tell 
 you, that 1 love you all as dearly as I ever did, and I 
 am sure mamma does; but those silly boys have just 
 come back from Oxford, and they talk of nothing but ' Ox- 
 ford menj by which mamma says she supposes they 
 mean 'green geese' like themselves: so now do not 
 mind their folly, dear Charfes, but be as happy with 
 us as you used :" and the really kind little girl held out 
 her disengaged hand to Charles, closely hugging Tiny 
 with the other ; but by this time Charles' spirit had 
 flagged, and the kind4one of his former favorite quite 
 overcame him ; he took her offered hand, however, and 
 hastily turning away his head, pretended to busy him- 
 self for a moment with the scene before him. While 
 thus occupied, a pony phaeton with a lady, and a servant 
 driving, approached the house, and Flora, exclaiming 
 " Oh, there's that strange Miss Melville !" suddenly 
 ran out of the room, leaving Charles alone, quite per- 
 plexed and ashamed at not having replied to her kind 
 address except by a slight pressure of the hand which 
 she had presented to him. 
 
 Short time, however, was there for Charles to in- 
 dulge his thoughts on this subject, for in another mo- 
 ment a servant threw the door wide open and announced 
 in a loud and more than usually pompous manner, " The 
 Honorable Miss Melville ;" and a tall, aristocratic-look- 
 ing lady, followed by three or four dogs, entered the 
 room : she was dressed with more attention to extreme 
 neatness than to any reigning fashion, although there 
 was nothing in her appearance which could lie con- 
 sidered in defiance of its most exigeant rules, except,
 
 108 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 perhaps, that the still very fine outline of the figure 
 was less obscured by German innovations than some 
 younger ladies might have deemed advisable ; in age, 
 she was at that peculiar crisis when it is difficult to say 
 to which class she would belong ; as, though decidedly 
 not old. she would have been shocked at being included 
 among the young ; erect in figure and with a rather lofty 
 step and bearing, Miss Melville was most gentle and 
 kind in her general demeanor, though, when annoyed 
 by any appearance of pride in those whom she considered 
 as "parvenues" or "nouveau riche," she was at times 
 abrupt, and even severe. 
 
 On entering the room, seeing only Charles standing 
 at the window, and concluding that he was one of the 
 young Hunters, she advanced towards him, but seeing, 
 as it seemed, a stranger, she bent slightly, and seated 
 herself in an easy chair near the fire. Charles, who had 
 previously met her at a friend's house, accepted this as 
 a new proof of the enmity of the world in general, and 
 felt still more distrait, but his shy look induced Miss 
 Melville, who was very near-sighted, to take an oppor- 
 tunity of raising her glass, when she instantly and with 
 the most frank and agreeable manner walked towards 
 him, extending her hand, and saying, " I beg your par- 
 don, Mr. Sinclair, I really did not recognize you, but 
 you must forgive me for my sight is so very imperfect ;" 
 and, entering into conversation, she chatted so agreeably 
 and introduced Charles to all her favorites in such a 
 lively manner, that he felt quite restored tc his own 
 good opinion ; and when Mrs. Hunter entered, she 
 found him and Miss Melville talking and laughing most 
 cheerfully, and all the cold restraint which had so
 
 HOME IS HOME. 109 
 
 cruelly oppressed her young visitor seemed to have dis- 
 appeared. But this happy state of things did not long 
 continue, for in a very few moments the young men all 
 oade their appearance, and with an assumed air of 
 yle and fashion they approached and laid claim to 
 Miss Melville's notice : she spoke to them all kindly, 
 but with more constraint than she had shown towards 
 Charles, and she did not at all encourage the ecstasy 
 of admiration which they bestowed upon her pets, only 
 smiling with a somewhat doubtful air when Percy de- 
 clared that " Kover" was worth " twenty guineas ;" she 
 looked down on Rover, however, with an approving eye, 
 which was answered by him with doglike gratitude, and 
 he jumped and writhed around her with much apparent 
 satisfaction. Miss Melville was now apparently en- 
 grossed in conversation with Mrs. Hunter, for whom 
 she evidently entertained a friendly feeling : this, how- 
 ever, did not prevent her noticing the absurd behavior 
 of the two would-be fashionable young men, who in 
 short shooting coats and many-colored waistcoats and 
 neck ties, were decorated with as many bright chains, 
 and rings and pins as might qualify them for the situa- 
 tion of " travellers on their own account ;" occupied 
 with themselves and their great desire to appear to ad- 
 vantage before an " Honorable," and wishing for some 
 opportunity of introducing their cousin, the member of 
 parliament, whose relationship they estimated as add 
 ing much to the Hunter distinctions, they totally forgoi 
 poor Charles' presence, till the door once more opened 
 and a servant addressed Mrs. Hunter, saying, '-' thai 
 master was disengaged now," and Mrs. Hunter told 
 Charles that he would find him in the study, adding
 
 110 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 " You know your way, Charles." No ready offer from 
 either lad to accompany him met his ear, and he there- 
 fore hastily crossed the room alone, feeling quite glad 
 when the door closed behind him : he made his way to 
 the study, passing an open door which disclosed the 
 large billiard-room divested of all furniture and in pro- 
 gress of decoration, proving that the usual winter ball 
 was soon to take place ; he sighed, as he recollected the 
 last event of the same kind, when, with his arm round 
 Flora's waist he had made her promise to reserve for 
 him all the polkas and waltzes for the evening : but he 
 now finds it necessary to exert all his philosophy, for in 
 answer to his modest tap at the study door, he is told in 
 a rough but good-natured voice to " Come in !" and 
 there sat Mr. Hunter, tall, stout and merry looking, 
 though rather pompous. 
 
 Magisterial papers are before him, and books, law 
 reports, and other insignia of office ; which, however, 
 are somewhat inconsistent in their character with the 
 other decorations of the room paintings of dogs, 
 racers and hunters, a pair or two of antlers and a 
 fox's brush a handsome rich Turkey carpet, covers 
 the floor, ind on the rug in front of the fire lie two 
 magnificent pointers, muscular and bony, with eyes 
 full of life and sagacity. On Charles' entrance, one 
 of them rose from his couch by the fire and stood by 
 his master's side, looking up into his face, as he ad- 
 dressed his young visitor : " Well, Charles, my boy, 
 I'm sorry I have kept you so long ; devilish cold, is'nt 
 it? Come, sit down, man; here, Don, make room for 
 your betters; down, sir, down, Port, down;" and the 
 good natured man placed a chair for Charles close be-
 
 HOME IS HOME. Ill 
 
 side hi.n, then slapping him on the knee, said, " Well, 
 Charles, and how are you all ? I can't say how are 
 you all at home, I wish I could ; for upon my soul, 
 I'm sorry, very, very sorry indeed ; but that won't 
 mend matters, will it, my boy? Have some lunch? 
 Oh yes, do : stay and dine with us ; you will, won't 
 you?" But Charles, though pleased with his really 
 open friendly manner, shrunk from a repetition of the 
 cold and repulsive treatment which he had met with 
 from the young men, and steadily but gratefully de- 
 clined the invitation. " Well, now then, you'll have 
 a glass of wine ?" and the bell was rung before Charles 
 had time to answer. Wine and cake were ordered, 
 and then, after partaking slightly of this refreshment, 
 Charles rose to take leave. Mr. Hunter vociferated a 
 request that he would " Stay and take a longer rest," 
 and then said, " If you want a friend, Charles, write 
 to me ; my cousin, Mr. Lightfoot, the member, will 
 listen to any suggestions of mine, and do anything for 
 me ; and, you know something or other may you see 
 what I mean, my dear fellow, is this I'm willing, you 
 know, to lend my aid, and well, well, you must write, 
 you must let me hear from you." Charles, seeing that 
 he was expected to put a period to his intended patron's 
 difficulties, by saving him from any further explana- 
 tion of his intentions, shook hands j and, by-the-bye, 
 he did not for some moments forget that he had done 
 so, and then left the study : but, despite his now sad 
 fit of mauvaise honte, he thought it only proper to 
 wish' "good morning" to the party assembled in the 
 drawing-room. Flora was there, and Charles con- 
 trived, in making his parting adieus, to pass near hei;
 
 112 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 and to pause for a moment to look for his little walk- 
 ing-stick ; her eyes were quicker than his ; she darted 
 towards the window, and taking it from its corner, 
 held it towards him, saying, " Here it is, Charles !" 
 Of course he drew nearer to receive it, and it was but 
 natural that he should whisper a word of thanks to the 
 only one who had shown any feeling of affectionate 
 regard ; and Flora did not look displeased at the " God 
 bless you, Flora, I shall not forget you," which ac- 
 companied the farewell, which he uttered in a louder 
 tone. When Charles wished Miss Melville good morn- 
 ing, she again presented her hand, and asked him kindly, 
 " Whether he had a long walk before him," adding, that 
 " at this season walking exercise was always most ex- 
 hilarating." 
 
 In consequence of this little attention from om 
 whom they aspired to rank among their intimate ac 
 juaintance, Percy and Edward came forward, and 
 walked to the door with Charles ; and, as if to make up 
 for lost time, assumed a wonderful degree of interest 
 respecting the fate of his hat and great coat which had 
 been laid down in the entrance hall : but it was an ef- 
 fort s and worth nothing in the eyes of their former 
 friend, or in those of the " Honorable," whose good graces 
 they thus sought to propitiate, for on their return to the 
 drawing-room they heard Miss Melville saying to Mrs. 
 Hunter, "What a particularly gentlemanly nice lad 
 that, young Sinclair is, poor fellow ! I dare say he feels 
 his poor father's misfortunes, for he seems sad and out 
 of spirits ; and he looked so lonely when I arrived that 
 I was quite glad to see him cheered and amused by 
 watching these followers of mine," and she playfully
 
 HOME IS HOME. 113 
 
 tapped Rover on the head with her hand. " I suppose 
 he does not skate, or I conclude he would not have been 
 left by himself !" 
 
 This speech was addressed to Percy, who struggled 
 in vain to repress the rising blush which Miss Melville's 
 earnest look and manner produced ; he found it impos- 
 sible to frame any answer to the remark, and not daring 
 to resort to his usual plan of evading any unpleasant- 
 ness by addressing his attentions to " Tackle," he felt 
 quite at a loss how to conceal his discomfort. Without 
 appearing, however, to notice this, Miss Melville again 
 addressed Mrs. Hunter, and enlarged considerably upon 
 the distress she had felt at hearing of the unfortunate 
 losses of Mr. Sinclair, " A man' she said, " really of taste 
 and refinement, and, as I am told, of most respectable 
 connections and family ; it is quite grievous to see them 
 in so painful a situation ; but, doubtless, they will in 
 some way be extricated from their difficulties, for they 
 are, I am sure, people of a very superior grade of intel- 
 lect and acquirement, I do not know where they are, 
 but I am told they are in a state of real distress." 
 
 Mrs. Hunter, who, though kind in feeling, possessed 
 much of the petty pride of the family, felt really quite 
 glad that Miss Melville was acquainted with the diffi- 
 culties in which the Sinclairs were involved, as it re- 
 moved from her mind the fear which she had begun to 
 entertain, that she could not know all the facts connect- 
 ed with their reduced circumstances ; or surely a per- 
 son of her consequence would not have been so kindly 
 familiar in her manner as she had been towards 
 Charles : and as she herself had alluded to the story : 
 Mrs. Hunter now fully enlarged upon it, and assumed
 
 114 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 a most kind interest in the fate of the family. But 
 Miss Melville had already seen quite enough of the up- 
 start pretensions of the young men, to be in the least 
 degree blinded as to the real state of their feelings j 
 and it was with a sensation of relief to a?l the party 
 that they heard her ask permission to order her carriage. 
 We must now follow Charles : when the sound of 
 the closing of the hall door reached his ears, he felt an 
 inward exultation at having escaped from the icy bar- 
 rier by which he had been surrounded for the last two 
 hours, and he stopped to look around him and to try to 
 recover a little from the effects of the freezing which he 
 had been enduring: how well he remembered each 
 object that met his eye ; that shrubbery walk, wind- 
 ing along behind the house, with its pleasant shade of 
 evergreens, and sweet-scented flowering shrubs, now 
 bending beneath the weight of the light snow which s& 
 beautifully compensated for their absent flowers, where 
 he with Flora and Spencer, in earlier days of childhood 
 so often had passed hours and hours of mirthful happi- 
 ness and enjoyment. And now, " old Neptune" sees 
 him, and springs from his kennel which is ensconced 
 behind the portico, and recognizing Charles, bestows a 
 sleepy, yawning sort of a welcome, for he has been 
 taking a nap, and greatly enjoying the warm sunny cor- 
 ner in which his house has been placed. Charles stoop- 
 ed to caress him, and felt quite happy at being so well 
 remembered by him ; but he will not stop longer lest 
 the boys should come out, so with a " good bye, Nep" 
 he ran off at speed down the gravel path, and pursued 
 his way as quickly as possible, for already the bright 
 rays of the winter sun were- departing, and he had a
 
 HOME IS HOME. 115 
 
 long walk before him ; his spirits, which in the morning 
 had so wonderfully sustained him, so that the walk 
 seemed nothing, had now sadly forsaken him, and he 
 began to tire ere he reached the end of the first mile. 
 However, he trudged on, meditating as he walked, on 
 the causes }f his late cool reception at Fairburn. Could 
 they really be so mean, so utterly worldly, as to treat 
 him differently, merely because his situation in life was 
 changed by misfortune " not by disgrace," thought 
 Charles. u No, not by disgrace, thank God; and I 
 cannot believe any people would be so despicable, no, I 
 musi have offended them, or perhaps they fancy that I 
 have liked little Flo too much ; well, she was kind as 
 ever, I am glad of that, for I always thought well of 
 her." 
 
 In this way " chewing the cud of sweet and bittet 
 fancies," Charles pursued his way, resolving as he went 
 not to wound his father's feelings by betraying how bit- 
 ter had been his vexation at the unkind treatment he 
 had experienced. A wintry evening was now closing 
 in, and in another half-hour it would be really dark ; 
 snow too began to fall in thick flakes around him, and 
 lie was right glad to hold up his finger and make signals 
 of distress to the first public conveyance-director that 
 came in sight : creeping in at the door of the omnibus, 
 he stumbled in the dark upon a gentleman's toe, and 
 then nearly falling into his arms he rather awkwardly 
 seated himself by his side and attempted an apology, 
 but was checked a little by hearing a voice say, " Take, 
 take care, young gentleman, you should be careful." 
 But when the light again streamed into the carriage he 
 saw that this elderly gentleman looked kindly at him,
 
 116 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 and moreover, that he had no other companion. After 
 a moment of silence, Charles ventured to speak to him. 
 
 u A cold evening, sir." 
 
 " Very, very indeed : have you walked far to-day, 
 hey?" 
 
 " Yes, I have been to Fairburn." 
 
 " Oh, oh, Fairburn, a set of parvenues those Hunters, 
 I should think so ; 1 should think so, h.y ?" and he 
 leant a little towards Charles. 
 
 But no assenting word or glance did Charles think 
 it right to give : so he only said it was " a nice place, 
 and when he lived near them they had been very kind 
 to him." 
 
 This evidently pleased the old gentleman, and he 
 smiled yes, smiled encouragingly while he sajd, " I 
 thought I was right." 
 
 Silent again for a moment Charles tried to recollect 
 who his companion was : and then thought, " Oh, yes, I 
 remember, his name is Crosby. I recollect he used to 
 follow nurse sometimes, when she walked out with poor 
 little Henry." But as this was all he knew of his 
 neighbor, he was at a loss to understand his manner, 
 when he again addressed him saying, " Sinclair, I think, 
 hey ? Charles Sinclair, hey ? ah, I thought so, I re- 
 member, a little one, too, there was once, with dark curl- 
 ing hair oh yes, /remember !" 
 
 But this allusion to his little brother affected poor 
 Charles, and he attempted no reply. 
 
 " Oh, well, I see, I was wrong to mention him, but 
 you must forgive me, young sir, for," and with a voice 
 tremulous from emotion he added, " I loved that little 
 child, and felt his loss when God removed the only crea-
 
 HOME IS HOME. 117 
 
 ture that ever had for many years excited in my hear*, 
 one feeling of tenderness or affection, for he was " 
 
 But at this moment Charles' strange companion 
 roused himself, and with a hasty announcement that 
 such feelings were " absurd " <and " ridiculous," he 
 resumed, as much as he could, of his usual manner, 
 and for the remainder of the short journey, scarcely 
 spoke, except that once or twice Charles heard him 
 mutter the words, " Old blockhead," by which Charles 
 supposed he was not on the happiest terms with him- 
 self. 
 
 When the carriage stopped for Charles to descend, 
 Mr. Crosby held out his hand, and said, " You think 
 mo an old fool, I dare say, eh ? oh well and so I am, 
 yes !" But Charles only remembered the love he had 
 so involuntarily expressed for his little brother, and 
 warmly pressed the hand which Mr. Crosby offered, 
 who said, as the door closed, " Ah ! if all boys were 
 like you." 
 
 What, in such a case, would have been Mr. Crosby's 
 opinion of them was lost to posterity, for the door 
 closed with a bang, and the guard vociferating " all 
 right," the carriage rattled off, and. left Charles to find 
 his way on foot through the street which led to Mr. 
 Eveleigh's house, determining, as he went, to give as 
 cheering an account of his day's adventures as if no 
 annoyance had disturbed his pleasure ; for, in common 
 with all this amiable family, his first object was to add 
 as much as possible to the comfort and happiness of 
 his parents, and in no case to give them unnecessary 
 pain or anxiety.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 KATE'S letter, which she had directed to Miss Hartop, 
 at Mr. "Wilde's, Glasgow, did not reach its destina- 
 tion for some days, as Miss Hartop had rather suddenly 
 come to the resolution of venturing to withdraw herself 
 from all the advantages of her situation in that family, 
 where she had been expected to instruct all the six 
 children, and not to expect any sort of leisure or re- 
 creation. This was too much, even for the quiet 
 patience of the good Miss Hartop, and she was there- 
 fore, at the time Kate's letter was forwarded to her, 
 quietly waiting at her nice snug lodgings, in Surrey, 
 for the arrival of answers to sundry applications which 
 she had made to several families, in the hope of obtain- 
 ing a more comfortable situation. The little white 
 cottage which she denominated her " home," and to 
 which she always resorted when fortune frowned upon 
 her " honest industry," was situated close by the pretty 
 village church of Greysbrook ; and was shut out from 
 the road by a white paling. The rooms which she 
 occupied had been fitted up with the old furniture, 
 which came from the vicarage j for she was the only 
 daughter of the late incumbent, who had died there 
 about twenty years before, and had left this child an 
 orphan and unprovided for, so that at five-and-twentj,
 
 HOME IS HOME. 119 
 
 poor Miss Hartop had been under the necessity of 
 seeking her daily bread from the hands of strangers. 
 And it was indeed a happy day for her when Mrs. 
 Sinclair engaged her services in the care of her sweet 
 children. For eight years Miss Hartop was freed from 
 all care and anxiety, and found in Mrs. Sinclair a real 
 and estimable friend. 
 
 As Kate grew up, and by her sweetness and excel- 
 lence of disposition gave evidence of the right princi- 
 ples in which she had been educated, the feelings of 
 her parents were more than ever drawn towards her 
 kind instructress, and Miss Hartop was considered in 
 the light of an esteemed friend, by both Mr. and Mrs. 
 Sinclair : and, during the last year of her residence 
 with them, she had been entirely admitted to their 
 confidence and companionship. It was, therefore, a sad 
 change, when it was decided that her services must of 
 necessity be dispensed with, and that, consequently, 
 she was again obliged to seek the protection of stran- 
 gers. It was oil a fine, clear, frosty day, the very day 
 on which Charles visited Fairburn, that Miss Hartop 
 was just finishing her simple toilette, in preparation 
 for the breakfast-hour, and had been wondering what 
 time it was, and whether the post-man was arrived in 
 the village, when a sudden knock at the small front door 
 induced her to peep down into the little passage below, 
 to see who would present himself, when Sally opened 
 the door ; and " yes, there is the post-man, and there 
 are three or four letters;" and Miss Hartop finishes 
 the adjusting of the little brooch with Kate's hair in it, 
 as she descends the stair-case, for she is more than 
 usually in haste tt> possess the treasures which the
 
 120 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 post-man has just left, her dress was, however, neat to 
 perfection, for this was so much her constant habit, that 
 no haste ever induced her, even when quite alone, to 
 neglect this distinguishing-mark of a lady : her pretty 
 dark merino dress, so closely fitting, and so nicely 
 finished with its pretty little collar of fine work, fastened 
 with the already-mentioned brooch, and her small pret- 
 tily arranged cap, made Miss Hartop, at forty, really 
 good-looking. Her step was still light, and her move- 
 ments even graceful : altogether, no one could mistake 
 her for other than a gentlewoman. She entered her 
 nice little sitting-room, where her solitary breakfast 
 was already prepared, and seizing her letters, seated 
 herself close by the fire ; and, as all ladies do, she ex- 
 amined all the seals, post-marks, and other character- 
 istics, in the hope of finding'^ without the trouble of 
 opening them, who were their -authors. But no sign 
 enlightened her, except that upon a close inspection 
 she decided that " that was from dear Kate," but that 
 she feared she was ill, for the hand was so unlike her 
 usual style of writing ; and then, it bore a strange 
 post-mark. However, on opening it, she exclaimed, 
 " Yes, it is indeed from Kate Sinclair ; but what can 
 have happened ?" and in silence and with many tears, 
 she read the long account of their recent misfortunes, 
 and, of Kate's determination, to assist, if possible, in 
 extricating her family from their difficulties: and 
 when she read that part of the letter which asked her 
 for assistance and direction in seeking some situation 
 which would be suited to her inexperience, poor Miss 
 Hartop was quite overpowered, and mentally promised 
 to use her best exertions to promote such a noble en-
 
 HOME IS HOME. 121 
 
 terprisc ; the letter was closed at last, and long and 
 sadly did the kind governess meditate upon the fallen 
 fortunes of the beloved family who had been so good) 
 so kind to her in her younger days. The breakfast 
 still remained untouched, till Sally, the little maid, who 
 acted as temporary servant of all work, opened the 
 door, and asked, " should she take away the things ? 
 but law, ma'am, you look quite pale and ill, and you've 
 eaten nothing, and no tea made, cat* I do anything for 
 you, ma'am?" 
 
 " No, thank you. Sally, not just now, I will ring for 
 you in a few moments." 
 
 Miss Hartop approached the table, and commenced 
 a pretended attack upon the bread and butter, made a 
 little tea as quickly as possible, and then looking round 
 she saw the other three letters which had excited her 
 curiosity, but had been forgotten in the sorrow which 
 Kate's communication had occasioned. As she sipped 
 her tea, she opened and read them. The first was from 
 a merchant's lady in the city ; stating that she had five 
 little girls who would require the constant care and 
 attention of a " residing governess," who would also be 
 expected to hear a little boy of seven all his lessons in 
 Latin, and give him other instruction if required, but 
 that possibly he would soon be sent to school ; the 
 governess must not expect the assistance of masters, 
 and would not be allowed to leave the children alone 
 at any time, but might have a fire in the school-room 
 when they were all gone to bed. Miss Hartop sighed, 
 as she contemplated the arduous task thus proposed, 
 and hoped better things might yet await her, and she 
 oped the second letter. This proved to be from the 
 
 6
 
 122 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 lady of a medical man in London, wlio "begged to 
 inform Miss Hartop that her children were all young, 
 and would not require the whole of her time, and that 
 therefore she would be expected to make herself useful 
 in other employments as they might arise ; but that 
 30 per annum were terms much too high, and pro- 
 posing 60 per annum instead." 
 
 Again Miss Hartop sighed, no that would never do, 
 she must refuse that at once. These letters had been 
 opened without any consideration, for her niind was 
 still full of the sorrows and difficulties of her friends ; 
 and some little time elapsed before she examined the 
 last of the letters which that morning's most eventful 
 post had brought her ; in this she found a most kiud 
 and lady-like proposal, from Lady Beauchamp, which 
 was in every respect exactly such as would best suit 
 Miss Hartop ; and her now deepening color and 
 speaking eyes evinced the real pleasure and satisfaction 
 which filled her mind, as she read the kind and friendly 
 terms in which this offer was conveyed. 
 
 Lady Beauchamp had two little girls of the respec- 
 tive ages of eight and ten, who would require Miss 
 Hartop's attention for some hours each day, but whose kind 
 and most respectable nurse would take charge of them 
 when the hours for study were ended ; " there is," Lady 
 Beauchamp continued. " a little helpless girl for whom 
 I may occasionally petition a little portion of your time*, 
 but it would be chiefly in the way of soothing and amus- 
 ing her weary hours." 
 
 This letter concluded with a request that Miss 
 Hartop would come to Granby Hall as soon as she could 
 with perfect convenience to herself. Once more, then,
 
 HOME I S H O M E . 123 
 
 she might hope for a comfortable home, aud find in those 
 she served minds congenial with her own ; and she had 
 long known Sir Edmund Beauchamp, and had often 
 heard of the amiable character of the lady whom he 
 had married. 
 
 For some moments she had paced her littlo room 
 with feelings of happiness to which she had long been a 
 stranger. She began, too, to consider the terms in which 
 she should express to Lady Bcauchamp the readiness 
 with which she accepted the charge thus kindly offered 
 to her, when suddenly the recollection of poor Kate at 
 once changed the current of her thoughts, and sho 
 almost blamed the* selfish feeling whicii had thus, for a 
 time, banished from her mind the sorrows and troubles 
 of those she so truly loved, and turning to her writing 
 table she determined first to write to Kate, and seek 
 to soothe and comfort her, and again she opened the let 
 ter which had brought to her the sad intelligence of nei 
 "uisfortunes ; but in another moment she paused, aud a 
 bright smile illumined every feature, while she mentally 
 resolved that for Kate she would endeavor to procura 
 the home which but a moment before she had so thank 
 fully accepted for herself. " Yes, it must be so, and 
 dear Kate need never know it was offered to me. I am 
 now so inured to difficulties that I can reconcile myself 
 to almost any path of duty, while she, poor girl, is no\\ 
 for the first time exposed to all the cold and unkind 
 neglects which too often await the poor and humblo 
 governess ; in Lady Beauchamp she will find a kirad 
 friend, I have no doubt, and I shall have the blessing 
 of feeling that I have been alile, in some measure, to 
 alleviate her first introduction to a life of unceasing re-
 
 124 HOME IS HUME. 
 
 spousibility and fatigue." Thus medita ed tie kind 
 governess ; she ihought not of the difficulties which thia 
 decision must of necessity entail upon herself, but put 
 far away from her every consideration save that of being 
 instrumental to the cor_ifort and benefit of those to 
 whom she felt so sincerely attached. Without a mo- 
 ment's hesitation she wrote to Lady Beauchamp. and 
 told her with all gratitude for her intended kindness, 
 that she had other views for her own future course, 
 but that she could most conscientiously recommend her 
 friend and former pupil, Miss Sinclair, whose family 
 had, from sad and unfortunate events, sunk into a state 
 of undeserved distress. She then^told Lady Beaa- 
 champ as much of her friend's circumstances as she 
 thought would be correct and prudent, and expressed 
 her high opinion of Kate's mind and principle, and 
 ended by asking for a speedy answer to her request ; 
 when this letter was sealed and despatched Miss Hartop 
 sat before her scanty fire in her little lonely room, and 
 felt that inward sense of happiness which a kind and 
 generous action never fails to bring as its reward : yet 
 in her guileless simplicity she thought not- of it as a 
 meritorious sacrifice, for she was only too thankful that 
 such an opportunity of proving her grateful affection to 
 her former patrons had thus so fortunately presented 
 itself ; and she felt that if she could succeed in smooth- 
 ing for poor Kate the thorny path which she seemed 
 destined to pursue, she should be more than recompensed. 
 She then determined not to write to Kate till she had 
 received from Lady Beauchamp an answer to this 
 application. 
 
 The long :old day passed wearily en, for time never
 
 HOME IS HOME. 125 
 
 appears so tardy in its flight as while we are waiting for 
 the completion of any object which we have in view ; 
 and as a means of dissipating her own anxious thoughts, 
 Miss Hartop resolved to go and visit some of her poor 
 and sick neighbors, from whom she always derived les- 
 sons of patience and submission, which she never failed 
 to improve to her own advantage. Taking, therefore; 
 her basket with a supply of such things as she thought 
 might be of most use to the poor people she intended 
 visiting, and clothing herself so as to defy the cold even 
 of that severe weather, she set forth on her charitable 
 errand. The ground was hard and white, for there had 
 been a heavy fall of snow, and the road in some parts 
 was very slippery, so that she had to choose herpath 
 with caution. At length she reached the place of h r r 
 destination ; this was the village almshouse, to whu h 
 place Miss Hartop paid a visit very frequently waen 
 she was staying in her native village, for here she ever 
 met a kind and grateful reception from such of her 
 father's old parishioners as still lingered under its time- 
 worn roof. A long, low building, forming three sides of 
 a quadrangle and enclosed in a little court-yard, had for 
 many generations formed the last earthly residence of 
 the very poorest of the inhabitants of Greysbrook. The 
 court-yard was considered as their garden by the poor 
 almshouse people, and as the area which formed its 
 centre was divided into equal allotments to be cultivat- 
 ed as might best please the owner of each, it was in 
 summer bright with beautiful flowers, and roses and 
 mignionette filled the air with their fragrant scents. A 
 paved footway ran all round the court close to the 
 houses, each of which was approached by two old and
 
 126 HOMEISHOME 
 
 well-worn stone steps, now slippery and scarcely afforJ-- 
 ing safe footing to the approaching visitor ; a low wall 
 with a small gate in the centre separated the garden- 
 court from the road which passed in front of the alms- 
 house, and which, with its high, well-beaten causeway, 
 formed the street of the straggling village to which it 
 belonged. * 
 
 Miss Hartop entered the little gate, and closing it 
 carefully passed on along the little paved way we have 
 described, till reaching a house which formed the very 
 centre of the front of the building she cautiously as- 
 cended the slippery steps, and turning the heavy iron 
 ring, which raised a latch, she admitted herself to a sort 
 of roughly-pebbled entry, and, turning to the right, ano- 
 ther heavy latch was raised and another door somewhat 
 similar to the outer one, but much lower and smaller, 
 disclosed the rather large but low and ill-lighted room 
 which formed the principal apartment of its inmates : 
 two steps led down into this strange-looking, old- 
 fashioned dwelling-place, the walls and ceiling of which 
 were dark with the smoke which at times poured forth 
 fron the wide old fire-place. Here, sitting on a low 
 chair close to a wood fire, which at the time of her en- 
 trance was much requiring replenishing, Miss Hartop 
 found her favorite bid woman, " Nanny, the queen," as 
 the other old people in joke sometimes called her. She 
 was dozing in her high-backed chair, and it was not till 
 her visitor had quietly stood some moments by her side 
 that she awoke. Her high clear cap was put on with 
 the greatest care, and her neat, blue cloth gown, the 
 badge of the almshouse, was surmounted by a snow 
 white neckerchief and apron ; her arms were covered
 
 HOME IS HOME. 127 
 
 with long black worsted mittens reaching to the elbows, 
 and her black shoes with rather higher heels than 
 might be deemed fashionable, were fastened with old 
 silver clasps, the pride of poor Nanny's heart, for they 
 had belonged to her father : her head was thrown back, 
 and the pale, calm features of the fine old woman were 
 in a state of perfect repose, while a beautiful tortoise- 
 shell cat of unusual size was also indulging in a quiet 
 nap by her side. A slight movement, caused by Miss 
 Hartop, roused old Nanny from her slumber, and sitting 
 upright with a half awakened air she rested her hands 
 upon the arms of her chair and looked slowly round ( 
 but on seeing her well-known and kind friend standing 
 by her she uttered an exclamation of pleasure, and said, 
 " My dear good lady, is it you ? why I was a dreaming I 
 believe, for I felt quite frightened for a moment like ; 
 but dear me, miss, you must be cold, and my fire is al- 
 most out too." Slowly rising from her seat, Nanny 
 placed some wood on the fire while her visitor ensconsed 
 herself cosily in the capacious chimney-corner, and 
 placed her cold feet on the bright brass fire-dogs which 
 supported the billets of wood, took off some of her warm 
 furs, produced her baskets, from which she took some 
 little parcels, which contained tea and sugar, and a nice 
 warm flannel waistcoat to keep her old friend warm in 
 the b ; tter frosty nights, and told her that she had just 
 "finished' it in time, for that the cold was intense and 
 seemed likely to continue so," and old Nanny was elo- 
 quent in her expressions of gratitude and thanks to her 
 kind visitor. 
 
 " Oh, miss," she said, " what a comfort it is to have 
 the pleasure of seeing you once more amongst us all;
 
 128 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 your goodness to us reminds us all of happier times, 
 when jour dear and excellent father was with us and 
 used to visit us and comfort us in all our troubles and 
 afflictions ; and oh, miss, when I first returned to my 
 parish after I had been abroad, you know that time 
 well, miss, it was a season of sadness, and I hope of 
 penitence, and your dear father kindly and gently led 
 me to the only source from which we can find consola- 
 tion in all our troubles ; yes, miss, he read the Scrip- 
 tures to me daily, and when my health was restored he 
 told me never to let go the hold which he hoped I had 
 made upon the blessed Gospel truths, and to seek fresh 
 strength to walk thenceforward in the path of duty ; 
 but oh, my dear young lady ! I am a poor, frail creature 
 and my heart is still burthened with the remembrance 
 of my past sins." 
 
 Miss Hartop listened with much interest, but know- 
 ing that the old woman was really a sincere Christian, 
 she talked to her encouragingly, and pointed out the 
 only way by which the sins of all can be healed, telling 
 her that forgiveness was promised to all who really 
 repented their past offences, and then feeling from the 
 energy and earnestness with which her old friend spoke 
 that some particular sin or fault still filled her soul 
 with heaviness, and that & free confession even to a 
 fellow creature is always salutary and hopeful, she 
 gently approached the subject of her earlier years, 
 thinking she could induce old Nanny to explain -the 
 cause of her hidden sorrow. " I remember once," sho 
 eaid " you promised me, Nanny, to tell me some par- 
 ticulars of the time you passed in foreign countries, 
 and, if you are not feeling more weak thar> usual, I wish
 
 HOME IS. HO ME. 129 
 
 you would Jo so now for I came on purpose to sit an 
 hour with you ; come, put on your tea-kettle, Nanny, 
 and blow up your fire into a blaze, and then while I 
 enjoy a comfortable warming of my cold hands, you can 
 tell me some parts of your early history." 
 
 " Ah. miss, I could never bring myself to talk much 
 upon that sad time, but I don't know how it is I feel 
 such a comfort in talking to you that I will e'en try tc 
 tell you my tale, though it will cost me much pain and 
 shame I know." Old Nanny rose, and filling her tea- 
 kettle set it on the fire, which now sent up a fitful blaze. 
 and threw a light into the far-off corner of that dark 
 room, then with a sigh and evident struggle against 
 her secret sorrow, which rendered her thin features 
 more than usually pale, she pfessed her hands closely 
 together on her knees, and began to relate her little 
 history. 
 
 " You see, miss, I was not always what I now ap- 
 pear, for I was the only child of a respectable farmer 
 who lived in this parish, and when I was a very little 
 child I was sent to school and brought ap with de- 
 cency and respectability till I was about nineteen. I 
 was then engaged to be married to a fine young man, 
 the son of a neighbor, a farmer, as my father was, but 
 much richer and in many ways better off, and it was 
 thought, you see, miss, that my lover would inherit a 
 very fair fortune whenever the old gentleman died ; 
 but from the first he seemed to think that unless father 
 would be able to give me some money, too, there would 
 be difficulties put in our way. Well, miss, after we 
 had been engaged about two years my dear father 
 died, find it was discovered that he had left me wholly 
 6*
 
 130 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 without any means of subsistence ; for you see, miss, 
 he had been a speculator, and though I had no suspi- 
 cion of such a thing, he was insolvent at the time of his 
 death. Well, ma'am, though I believe James would 
 gladly have fulfilled his promises his father would 
 never hear of it, and I was young and proud then, and 
 so Tje quarrelled and parted never to meet again in 
 this world, for James went away to seaj and was soon 
 after lost in a dreadful storm off the coast of Spain t 
 and I, ah yes ! T did mourn for him, miss, as thoHgft 
 he had been my own husband, and for a long while I 
 was very poorly in body and mind. At this time I was 
 living with my grandmother, who took care of me and 
 tended me with a mother's love, but soon afterwards 
 she died, and I felt that my only way of getting my 
 living would be to go into service in a gentleman's 
 family. Your father knew me, and gave me recom- 
 mendations, and at last I obtained a situation in which 
 as nursemaid I lived for many years with credit and in 
 comfort. I was four-and- twenty when I first entered 
 that house, miss, and I never changed my home for 
 nearly fourteen years ; but as the children were then 
 grown up, my mistress procured me an excellent place 
 as head-servant in the house of a gentleman who had 
 lately returned from the West Indies, and had brought 
 home a young wife who was, I believe, a Portuguese 
 lady ; however she was a foreigner, and spoke English 
 but indifferently. She was very pretty and had a sweet- 
 expression in her soft dark eye, and her long black 
 hair hung in bright and beautiful curls down each side 
 of her oval face, which was rather darker than our Eng- 
 lish ladies. My master was many years older than
 
 HOME IS HOME. 131 
 
 phe was, but he was doatingly fond of her, and always 
 very tender and gentle towards her, seeming more like 
 a father in his manner to my thought, but that was his 
 tender way. Well, miss, when first I went to live with 
 them there was no child, and I think master coveted 
 one more than any earthly good or comfort, but my 
 mistress was not in good health, and we all thought she 
 would not long be amongst us. About a year after I 
 entered their service the doctors thought a sea voyage 
 would favor the poor young lady, and as her father 
 had just died and left my master some property in 
 the Brazils, it was settled that she should go with him 
 to take possession and make arrangements for its 
 being properly managed, and I AVJIS to go with then, 
 Well, I went : but perhaps I am- tiring you, miss, 
 with my long story ?" 
 
 " Oh no," replied Miss Hartop, ' I am much inter- 
 ested ; pray go on ; and so you went with them 
 well?" 
 
 " Yes, miss, I went with them, and we had a safe 
 and prosperous voyage, and I was delighted with the 
 novelties all about me ; but you are book-learned, miss, 
 so I won't stop to tell you of all the wonders of the 
 mighty ocean that-we passed. Well, we arrived in that 
 strange foreign country at last, and master took a house 
 near a place called St. Sebastian, the largest town in 
 Rio Jannuary, and there we found everything wonder- 
 ful strange, and the language and all was puzzling to 
 my English ways j still, I loved my dear young mis- 
 tress, and when at last it pleased God to send them 
 their hearts' desire, in a beautiful little boy, I was truly 
 happy ; yet oh, miss, my heart is almost broken when
 
 132 HOME ISHOME. 
 
 I think upon my wicked selfishness.'!^. For a few mo- 
 ments old Nanny wept in silence, leaving Miss Hartop 
 quite unable to understand the cause of her sudden 
 emotion, Presently, however, she roused herself, and 
 begging pardon for the interruption thus pursued her 
 story : Well, all must be told. The dear child grew 
 rapidly, and for two years he was the joy and delight 
 of us all, and if my dear mistress' health had been 
 good my master would have been truly happy ; but 
 she became more and more delicate, and it was thought 
 that she could never bear the long voyage back to Eng- 
 land, so we were kept on and on at that strange place 
 always hoping that she would get stronger soon : how- 
 ever, at last master's affairs required his immediate pre- 
 sence in England, and go he must, so the doctors told 
 him to keep up a good heart and that as his dear lady 
 had now in some degree improved they hoped when the 
 more favorable season should set in she would certainly 
 be able to follow him, though it would probably kill her 
 if she returned with him at that flrne. So at last, miss, 
 he made up his poor mind to go and to leave me in 
 charge of my dear mistress and sweet master Herbert. 
 Me ! oh, why was I left ? Oh, Miss Hartop, now 
 you shal' hear my sad, sad fault. Well, at last he went, 
 and a terrible sad parting it was ; but neither of them 
 thought what an endless one it was to prove. When 
 he was gone my dear lady made every effort to recover 
 her spirits, and took every remedy that they proposed 
 for her improvement in health, but all in vain, and in 
 two months, just when I had been directed to take her 
 to England, she expired in my arms and left the darling 
 of her hea - t to the care of me and the native nurse
 
 HOME IS HOME. 133 
 
 Maytee, who had always assisted me in taking charge of 
 him ; and as I never could understand any language but 
 my own I was truly glad to have this woman who knew 
 all that were spoken in that outlandish place. The gen- 
 tleman whom master had left to act as his agent during 
 his absence gave all the orders for my poor lady's fune- 
 ral himself, and without waiting for directions from 
 my master, he determined that I should go directly to 
 England with dear master Herbert, and take Hay tee 
 with me, and as soon as possible we embarked on 
 board a trading vessel. My dear little charge was 
 very happy, and liked being on board ship very much, 
 and would sit for hours on my lap looking over the 
 ship's side, and watching the white foam which fol- 
 lowed on our track. He was a beautiful child, miss. 
 with very dark brilliant eyes, and very long dark 
 curls like his mother's; and every one on board 
 seemed to admire him, though, except the captain, my- 
 self and Maytee, no one knew whose child he was. 
 We had only been at sea about a fortnight, when one 
 day while we were all below, a sudden storm arose, 
 'with thunder, lightning and wind. In less than half an 
 hour our sails were split to pieces. The sailors said it 
 commenced from south-east, but the wind shifted to the 
 north, and we were driven along, like chaff before the 
 wind. The sea now rose in tremendous billows around 
 us, and the vessel was now as it were up to the heavens, 
 and then down to the depths of the seas below. All was 
 terror and confusion. In another half-hour the sai- 
 lors cut away the main-mast, which fell with a tremen- 
 dous crash, making the ship quiver from stem to stern. 
 Oh ! Miss Hartop, pity me, but do not ^Ul to my self
 
 134 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 condemnation. My strength and spirits seemed to 
 fail me, and I turned suddenly faint, when May tee took 
 Tom my arms my precious charge. In another mo- 
 ment the long-boat was lowered ; the captain gave or- 
 ders that as many as with safety could get on board her 
 should lose no time in doing so. One of the ship's 
 officers seized me by the shoulder, and hurried me on 
 to the edge of the sinking ship, and oh, miss, I taought 
 only of my own danger ; I forgot my precious child, 
 and poor Maytee unfortunately but ill-understood what 
 
 the English sailors said, and did not but oh, I don't 
 
 purtend to tell how it happened, but when we were 
 all- crowded into the boat, they put off, and in an in- 
 stant we were at the top of a crest of a tremendous 
 wave, and there, in the deep trough of the sea,- I saw 
 poor Maytee on the deck of the ill-fated vessel with 
 my charge held up in agony towards me ! I wished 
 I had died. I was frantic ; but it was of no use, and 
 poor Maytee and the precious child were lost ! Oh, 
 ma'am ! my dear lady forgive me :" and poor Nanny 
 sunk back in her chair, quite exhausted with the over- 
 powering recollections of that dreadful day. When 
 she recovered, she concluded her sad tale, by saying 
 that t 1 !? poor sufferers in the boat, after some hours 
 of extreme peril, were saved by a vessel homeward 
 bound, and that, on her safe arrival in England, she 
 had come to her native village, but that she had ne- 
 ver ventured to see her injured master, who had ever 
 since, as she had heard, been at times almost bereft of 
 his senses, and was always very strange in all his 
 ways : she added, ' Oh. miss, it would be a comfort 
 to me now to see him, and ask his forgiveness, but J
 
 HOME IS HOME. 135 
 
 fea.r I shall t ever see him more. Your dear, kind fa- 
 ther, Miss Hartop, knew all my sad story, and during 
 his life, as you know, he never let me want, but ho 
 died, an3 since that, I have known much sickness and 
 poverty ; but I bless the Giver of all good who has 
 thus comfortably provided for me in my old age, and 
 I do hope my dear lady, He will mercifully deign to 
 forgive my past sins, and receive me into His glorious 
 kingdom hereafter." 
 
 Old Nanny covered her face with her apron and 
 wept in silence ; for a time her kind and considerate 
 visitor would not interrupt her tears, assured as she was 
 that the source from which they sprung would bring a 
 healing balm to her wounded and self-convicted spirit. 
 In a few moments, however, she ventured to offer some 
 words of consolation, and to assure the poor old woman 
 that she felt not a doubt that a fault so evidently the 
 result of weakness and want of presence of mind, and so 
 unceasingly repented, would find pardon and forgive- 
 ness at the throne of grace, and then she comforted her 
 b}~ reading from the Holy Book those precious promises 
 of forgiveness which are there offered to all sincere 
 penitents who rest on their Saviour's merits for the re- 
 mission of sins. She then gradually turned to other 
 topics of conversation, though she felt much disposed to 
 ask many questions on the subject of the interesting 
 story to which she had been listening ; she observed 
 that Nanny had not mentioned the name of the family 
 of whom she had been speaking, but as it had probably 
 been purposely avoided, Miss Hartop with intuitive deli- 
 cacy withheld inquiries which might add to the poor old 
 woman's sorrow. After sitting a few more minutes she
 
 136 HOME IS HOME. _ . 
 
 rose, and taking poor Nanny's hand, said, " I must 
 leave you now, my good old friend, but I will not do so 
 without giving you my assurance that my mind is much 
 more filled with pity than with blame. I can assure 
 you I most fully enter into all your troubled feelings, 
 and I will soon come again, and stay with you a longer 
 time. She then left the room followed by the grateful 
 thanks of the old woman. 
 
 As she passed through the court-yard she met some 
 ftf *he poor people whom she had intended to visit, but 
 as her mind was now much occupied with the strange 
 story which had just been related to her, she spoke 
 kindly to them, and telling them she should come and 
 see them on the next day, passed on. The evening was 
 intensely cold, and a bright silvery moon lighted Miss 
 Hartop's homeward steps, the events of the past day 
 absorbed her thoughts, and it was with a feeling of real 
 comfort and satisfaction that she entered her own 
 quiet little sitting-room, where, with closely shuttered 
 and curtained windows, and with warmly slippered feet 
 placed on a foot-stool before the fire, we will leave her 
 to sip her coffee and indulge in a long and solitary 
 reverie en the occurrences of the last few hours, sc 
 fraught *-ith exciting and painful interest.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 CHARLES' visit to the Hutfcers gave rise to a great 
 many questions on the following morning, but having 
 assured them that Mr. and Mrs. Hunter were very 
 kind, he took refuge from a further discussion of the 
 subject by describing the strange old gentleman in the 
 omnibus. Mrs. Sinclair said, " Surely it must have 
 been that old gentleman that nurse' used to tell us al- 
 ways contrived to pass her in her walks when she used 
 to have our poor little darling Henry with her." Kate 
 perfectly remembered that she had often remarked thu 
 old gentleman, and she was on the point of saying that 
 she really did believe that same old gentleman came 
 into her room at Belmont on the day of the sale, but 
 checked herself, as she never in her father's presence 
 alluded to the occurrences of that day ; she called 
 Honor and asked her if she had ever heard nurse men- 
 tion this gentleman. " Och thin, Miss Kate, I have, 
 but I niver seen him. Nurse used to say t'was mighty 
 fond he seemed of the blessed babby, and often he used 
 to walk close along behind her and spake of the purty 
 bright eyes, as would be peeping over her shouldher at 
 the quare ould n^n, oh, but thim eyes wor bright as the 
 stars in Heaven." 
 
 "And do you know the gentleman's name, Honor?"
 
 138 HOJWE IS HOME. 
 
 " So/row a bit I knows of him, miss, but shure nurse 
 does ; at laste I heard her say 'twas a name she niver 
 could recollect, by which means she kept it wholly to 
 herself; but I beg yer pardon, Miss Kate, I think I 
 hear that Scotch lady coming up the stairs, and will I 
 go an' ask her to come in ?" This was said in order to 
 give Mrs. Sinclair time to escape, as the mention of her 
 little one had painfully affected her, and Honor's quick 
 perception taught her 'that at such a moment the arri- 
 val of a stranger might be undesirable, and the hint 
 was taken. Honor dexterously avoiding admitting the 
 visitor till her mistress had safely reached the inner 
 room. 
 
 When Miss Moffat entered, the children* could 
 scarcely help smiling, so strange was her appearance, for 
 as usual she had put on all the smart things she could 
 collect, and as she stood by the side of Kate in her 
 pretty modest morning-dress, she seemed herself to be 
 quite struck with the contrast which she presented, and 
 mentally decided that, " Deed then, Miss Senclar's dress 
 is in muckle better teeste than mine, an' I sail mak a 
 grate change in my garments as sune as I get the 
 means to do it." However, this was but a passing 
 thought, and she approached the party with much 
 respect and evident timidity. Mr. Sinclair placed a 
 chair for her and took her offered hand, and entered into 
 conversation with her so kindly and pleasantly that 
 Miss Mofiat's heart was quite warmed and won, and she 
 proceeded to announce the jobject of her visit. " I'm 
 thinking, ye see, Maistress Senclar, thai ye are nae that 
 comfortable here in this far up apartment, an' T dinna 
 ken hoo ye jn a' manage, but I frel sure ye canna be
 
 HOME IS HOME. 139 
 
 unco cosy ; sae as the lodgers are going awa next week 
 ye are kindly welcome to the use o' thae rooms." This 
 kind proposal, though duly appreciated, was firmly but 
 kindly declined by Mr. Sinclair, who could not consent 
 to thus depriving the good Scotchwoman of half her 
 means of subsistence ; and, as he could not remunerate 
 her for the accommodation, he told her that for the 
 present they did not really require such an arrange- 
 ment. " Atweel, ye'll just think anent the matter and 
 let me know yer wishes." And then, to turn the sub- 
 ject, she began to admire the " twa sweet little girls:" 
 but as her remarks were not calculated to lower these 
 young ladies in their own estimation they were soon 
 dismissed, and Kate asked her to tell them something 
 of the " pretty little Scotch girl with the golden hair ;" 
 this was a favorite theme with Miss Mo fiat, and she 
 told them some portion of the child's story, reserving 
 only such points as reflected credit on herself, and when 
 she made her parting curtsy, she left a most favorable 
 impression on the minds of all present. 
 
 As soon as she was gone Mr. Sinclair told Kate 
 that he much wished to have some conversation with 
 her, and as the day was bright and frosty he proposed 
 that they should go and take a long walk together : to 
 this Kate readily assented, and putting on her warmest 
 dress and drawing a thick veil over her face she took 
 her father's arm and together they walked, and closely 
 and earnestly they conversed for more than two hours : 
 the result of this confidence appeared in the resolutions 
 which were announced by Mr. Sinclair as they sat 
 round their little fire, when the younger children 
 wore gone t- bed. Mrs. Sinclair had not yet been
 
 140 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 told that Kate had decided on seeking the situation 
 of a governess ; it was a very painful effort to both her 
 and her father to introduce so painful a subject ; yet 
 knowing that although of a timid and unenergetic cha- 
 racter she was actuated and guide"d by truly Christian 
 principles, they felt assured that she would soon be 
 come reconciled to any path of duty however painful ; 
 and they were not mistaken : her weakened spirits re- 
 quired a little support when she first heard that her 
 darling girl was to leave her, and the sudden rush of 
 a mother's fears came into her heart, filling it with all 
 those nameless anxieties which mothers alone can feel. 
 Soon, however, she derived comfort from the thoughts 
 of her noble girl's bright and estimable character which 
 must secure for her kind friends, and whose steady 
 Christian principles would keep her safe from danger 
 even amidst the difliculties and temptations of the busy 
 world : but she had yet more to learn, for Mr. Sinclair 
 had resolved on employing his talents as a painter for 
 the benefit of his family, while Mrs. Sinclair might, by 
 devoting ier whole attention to the younger children, 
 prepare them for the situation of governesses as soon 
 as they should be at an age for such a responsible 
 office. Meanwhile Charles should seek to obtain some 
 employment by which he might be enabled to maintain 
 himself. Long and earnestly were all these plans con- 
 sidered, and ere they retired for the night each sought 
 in fervent prayer the aid they needed to enable them 
 to fulfil the duties which they had respectfully under- 
 taken. 
 
 Some days now elapsed, which, bringing with them 
 no new incident, enabled the Sinclairs to arrange and
 
 HOME IS HOME. 141 
 
 firing into action the plans to which we have alluded. 
 Already is the easel, placed in its most advantageous 
 position ; Mr. Sinclair is busily engaged in painting a 
 lovely summer scene, and as the picture glows and 
 brightens -beneath his vivifying touch, it almost banishes 
 from his mind, the sad remembrance that the " summer 
 of his life is overcast," and that the clouds of poverty 
 and sorrow, are fast closing around all he loves on 
 earth ; the feeling, too, that he is by active exertion 
 using the best efforts to dissipate these clouds tends to 
 cheer and comfort him, and by degrees restores his 
 mind to a state of almost happiness. Once more 
 pleasant and even cheerful conversation and busy em- 
 ployment lend new life and vigor to the hearts of all, 
 and Kate, with a feeling of thankfulness, perceives that 
 the fury of the storm has passed away. She now silent- 
 ly and quietly exerted herself to prepare for leaving 
 her now almost comfortable home, and to be ready to 
 accept the first situation which might be offered her. 
 She endeavored as much as possible to conciliate the 
 the good Miss Moffat, from whose kind arid friendly 
 disposition she hoped much advantage might arise ; 
 and she so won the good Scotch lady's heart, that she 
 declared to little Maggie, who was her only companion, 
 that "'Deed, then, Miss Senclar was just the varra 
 pattern % o' perfaction, and that the sight o' her sweet 
 bonnie face was amangst her daily blessings ; but I 
 fear she canna be owr that happy, puir young leddv, for 
 I am sure she has been weel cared for, an' weel 
 brought up, and leetle used to sic a life of trouble 
 and anxiety ; but she is sae calm and gentle that she 
 bears a' vi' a thankfu' spirit that will aye find its re-
 
 142 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 ward : and I'm thinking I might e' tak a lesson fia her 
 in mony ways, 'specially aaeut the matter of the putting 
 on mair seemly attire, an' I'll no wear them gaudy duds 
 again." The latter part of this speech was in soliloquy, as 
 Maggie had departed from her side before its conclu- 
 sion ; but Miss Moffat, who was really in earnest, lost 
 no time in removing .-;s much as possible the lappits 
 and gewgaws which she had hitherto deemed the best 
 proof which she could afford the world of her bygone 
 days of genteelity. Kate was pleased as wll as sur- 
 prised at the reformation which had taken place in 
 her appearance ; but little Maggie, who was ,used to 
 her finery and rather approved it, said, "'Deed then I'm 
 maist afeard my dear leddy's ganging daft like puir auld 
 granddad, an' I'm unco fashed to see her tak on sae wi' 
 Miss Kate :" by which we may infer that the little 
 Scotch lassie had a spice of j*lousy in her youth- 
 ful heart !
 
 CHATTER XIII. 
 
 CHRISTMAS was now fast approaching, and the joung 
 people could scarcely refrain from expressing their re- 
 grets, when a comparison would arise in their minds, 
 between the circumstances of the present season and 
 those of former days. Still, for their parents' sake,, 
 they would not even to elich other give utterance to 
 their painful thoughts, and it was with heartfelt plea- 
 sure that Kate one morning heard the following con- 
 versation between her two little sisters, who still shared 
 her room with her. 
 
 " Rosy," said Emily, " are you awake, dear ?" 
 " Yes ; I have been staying quietly thinking, be- 
 cause I thought you and Kate were asleep. But, hush, 
 don't wake her, for I want to speak to you. Don't you 
 know, Emily, to-morrow will be Christmas-day ? And 
 don't you remember how we used to have the hall dressed 
 with holly ? and all Kate's school girls used to' come 
 and sing a beautiful carol, all standing round the pretty 
 tree which the gardener used to put there after papa 
 a:id mamma were gone to bed ? Oh, Emily ! I declare 
 I quite long for my dear, dear home again, don't you-? 1 ' 
 " Yes, my darling Rosy, I do indeed long for it 
 sometimes ; but then you know, dear, we must not vex 
 them all by looking sad and gloomy ; and then you
 
 144 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 know if they think we are happy and merry they will 
 be cheerful too, perhaps. But I really cannot bear to 
 see dear Katey losing all her pretty color, and try- 
 ing to please us all. Never does she complain of us, 
 even when we are noisy or troublesome ; so now do 
 let us try to follow her example, and be good and use- 
 ful, and forget that we ever knew happier days than 
 these." 
 
 Rosa was quite ready to promise all that was re- 
 quired of her, and already the little cloud, which had 
 for a moment overshadowed her naturally sweet dispo- 
 sition, had vanished, and by Emily's good counsel the 
 sunshine of her heart was restored. She then eagerly 
 confided her important secret, which for a moment had 
 been forgotten. In a small ornamental box, which the 
 children called their bank, there had accumulated some 
 little savings of their o\vn, and Rosa now proposed that 
 all this treasure should be committed to the care and 
 judicious management of "dear Kate," that she might 
 be able to purchase some evergreens and holly, and 
 make some other preparations, which might assist to 
 enliven the solitary room to which they were now so 
 much confined. After much whispering and settling 
 of these innocent plans, Kate, who had more than 
 once reminded them that she was not sleeping, was at 
 last appealed to as .to the best means of carrying into 
 effect their proposed embellishments ; and it was agreed 
 that Charles should be employed to buy a quantity of 
 holly with " plenty of beautiful red berries ;" and that 
 after " papa and mamma " were gone to rest they 
 would all meet and decorate the old studio, and that 
 one of Charles' first purchases should be some brightly
 
 HOME IS HOME. 145 
 
 burning wood, that they might have a blazing fire to 
 greet them on that cold Christmas morning. Little 
 Kosa now suggested to Emily that it would be better 
 to avoid saying one word about last Christmas, but 
 think this new way of spending it quite as charming 
 and delightful. And in the glow of young and 
 generous feeling these children found a pure happiness, 
 far exceeding all that could be purchased by wealth or ' 
 luxury. 
 
 Kate fully appreciated these right and good feel- 
 ings, yet she offered no injudicious praises, and the 
 children only knew by her loving kiss and gentle smile 
 that she was pleased with their sweet conduct. 
 
 Charles was soon admitted to their counsels, and 
 both he and Honor gladly promised their ready assist- 
 ance ; and having gained Miss Moffat's consent, Charles' 
 sleeping-room was soon filled with all that they 
 required for the decoration of the studio, and many 
 pretty and ingenious devices were formed from the 
 bright leaves and berries of the holly. 
 
 While all were thus busily engaged, a sudden and 
 loud knock at the hall-door summoned little Maggie, 
 and she presently returned with a face beaming with 
 pleasure, and said, " Oh, Maister Charles, that black- 
 looking woman' has just been here again, an' she wad na 
 wait tull 1 ca't ye ; an' she's gone away wis an unco 
 quick step, and I'm thinking ye'd hae som trouble to 
 o'erget her, au' she's left siccan a great basket on the 
 ha' floor." Out ran all the young party, and there 
 they indeed found a large basket, directed to Master 
 Charles Sinclair, containing, as they found upon inspec- 
 tion, an abundance of good things ; a fine turkey, wine, 
 7
 
 146 HOjME IS HOME. 
 
 some oranges, and many other acceptable presents, in- 
 cluding cakes and even toys for the young ones, with 
 a store of amusing books, but without any note by 
 which they could discover the kind friend who thus 
 endeavored to cheer the first season of penury and 
 privation. 
 
 The children's little arrangements were at last com- 
 pleted, and the room really looked quite picturesque, 
 with its dark walls enlivened by wreaths of bright ever- 
 greens ; and when the party assembled themselves 
 round the cheerful fire in the morning, no feeling but 
 that of thankfulness for the mercies and comforts by 
 which they were s,till surrounded held a place in their 
 hearts. The greetings on that day were more than ever 
 loving and affectionate, and a holy peace and calm 
 filled all their minds. The services of the Church were 
 duly attended by them all, and a day of quiet, rational 
 enjoyment succeeded ; though, when the well-provided 
 table induced the necessity of divulging the secret of 
 the mysterious present, Mr. Sinclair expressed some 
 compunction at having thus a second time incurred an 
 obligation to a stranger. He soon, however, consoled 
 himself by the thought, which had more than once oc- 
 curred to his mind, that his brother had possibly heard 
 of his distress, and had thus in an eccentric way en- 
 deavored to lighten the privations of his children. Re- 
 solving therefore not to lessen the pleasure which they 
 BO well deserved, he wisely forbore from dwelling on 
 any subject of dissatisfaction. 
 
 Poor Miss Moffat had been kindly invited to join 
 their fireside circle, but with ' muckle thanks" she had 
 excused herself, " as she had passed her ' Christmas
 
 HOME IS HOME. 147 
 
 tide' this mony a year wi' an fculd Scottish cousin wha 
 lived in an adjoining street, and on this occasion her 
 little protegee, Maggie, was to bear her company." 
 
 Late in the evening Mr. Sinclair drew his children 
 round him, and thanked them all with much emotion 
 for the unselfish spirit which they had evinced on every 
 occasion since their sad change of circumstances ; he 
 gladdened their hearts by the assurance that he had 
 experienced more true happiness on that day than he 
 ever remembered to have enjoyed in the bright days of 
 their prosperity. And thus the " Christmas-day," which 
 all had feared would prove one of painful and sad re; 
 collections only, had passed in peace and tranquillity, 
 brightened by the sweet affection and lov'ng exertions 
 of these truly excellent children.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ON the following morning, as they were all seated at 
 their various employments, Honor entered the room, 
 and passing round to Kate's side, she placed a letter in 
 her hand. Kate's before bright cheek becomes deadly 
 pale as she recognises Miss Har top's seal and direction ; 
 and without a word of answer to the various demands 
 as to " "Who it was from," &c. she hastily rushed to her 
 little room, and closing the door she read the following 
 letter : " I cannot describe to you, my dearest friend, 
 the sorrow which filled my heart when I read your sad 
 account of your dear father's recent misfortune, and I 
 quite longed to be with you all in your affliction, but 
 that was impossible, and you will perhaps have won- 
 dered that I did not more immediately answer your 
 letter, but in consequence of my having left Durham I 
 did not receive it for some days. I have waited since 
 a short time that I might tell you the result of an ap- 
 plication which I had made to Lady Beauchamp, of 
 whom I knew enough to ensure the conviction that in 
 her house you, my dearest Kate, would receive the 
 kindest consideration. This morning's post has, I am 
 thankful to tell you, brought me a most favorable 
 inswer, and I will not lose a moment in telling you the 
 sontents of her letter." Miss Hartop then proceeds to
 
 HOME IS HOME. 14? 
 
 detail to Kate the particulars of her correspondence 
 -with Lady Beauchamp, and then adds, " Although, my 
 dearest Kate, you will believe that I fully sympathise 
 with you in the feelings which the separation from all 
 your family must occasion, and can enter into all your 
 anxieties at the thoughts of the arduous responsibilities 
 before you, yet I feel such perfect confidence in your 
 high sense of duty, that I feel assured you will soon 
 become reconciled to all which at first may be irksome 
 and painful ; and I doubt not you will speedily gain 
 the esteem and regard of your excellent host and hostess, 
 for in their house you will be treated almost as a 
 visitor. Do not then, dear girl, alarm yourself, but 
 meet Lady Beauchamp with full confidence that in her 
 you will find one of mind congenial with your own. I 
 am myself going into the family of a merchant, in Lon- 
 don, and I trust we may ere long meet again." Miss 
 Hartop added many messages of affection and sympa- 
 thy, and closed her letter by informing Kate that her 
 salary for the present would be 80 per annum, and 
 that Lady Beauchamp hoped to see her as soon as she 
 could, with convenience to herself, leave home. 
 
 After reading this letter, which cost her many tears 
 of mingled feeling, poor Kate sat, for some time, with 
 her face buried in her hands, and in silence sought the 
 only aid which could enable her to meet with resigna- 
 tion and fortitude, the sad separation from her family, 
 which she felt must so immediately take place. Rous- 
 ing herself, however, from these painful thoughts, she 
 sought to obtain a calm and cheerful appearance before 
 she met her parents ; and as she paced her little room, 
 she tried to think only of the benefit which would arise
 
 150 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 to all by this self-sacrifice. She thought herself un- 
 grateful so to have received an intimation which ought 
 to be a subject for thankfulness : but again and again 
 did the thought of leaving all she loved subdue her 
 newly acquired firmness, and it was long before she 
 could summon courage to seek her father, and with as- 
 sumed cheerfulness place before him the letter which 
 had thus excited her feelings. 
 
 We will pass over the few days which intervened, 
 days of sorrow which all must feel when about jo part 
 from those so dearly loved, but which were endured 
 by all with constancy and firmness, evincing the excel- 
 lent principles by which they were actuated. Kate 
 made many little arrangements for the comfort of her 
 family ; one of her first objects being to engage the 
 rooms which Miss Moffat had offered for their use, 
 and for which she undertook to remunerate her. 
 Much good advice, too, she gave to her little darling 
 sisters, who, with tears, promised to be obedient and 
 useful Honor, too, the good, faithful Honor, was 
 kindly reminded of her new responsibilities during 
 Kate's absence ; in short, nothing was omitted which 
 her tender, careful forethought could secure for the 
 comfort' of her parents. Poor Honor could scarcely 
 compose herself sufficiently to receive these needful 
 directions, which she continually interrupted by some 
 new expression of her sorrow. " Och, miss, an' shall 
 we be deprived of yer swate company entirely ? An' 
 will we be left like pillicans in the wilderness, let alone 
 the owls in the desert, or the sparrows on the house 
 top. What'll become of us ? Mavourneen*, bad manners 
 to me, to think of calling the likes of ye by sich fami-
 
 HOME IS HOME. 151 
 
 liarity. But eh, Miss Kate, ye're dearer to me than 
 all the world, and whar will I find any comfort at all 
 when ye're gone far away ? An' all for what? Shure 
 the lady might tache her own children, but its little 
 she'd school 'em as you will. Well, miss, I ax yer 
 pardon, but ye'll forgive my fcols of tares, for its 
 mighty tazing they do always be. And now, miss 
 Kate, ye know yer brother told us about Robinson 
 CoosO, and how he sent them things by his craft; 
 well, I suppose, miss, for the credit of ould Ireland, 
 ye will believe that we have good people of the same 
 quality : and one of them did be sending a thrifle. 
 But, bad cess to me, I never did do their bidding : but 
 ye'll find it now upon yer table in yer room." And 
 there, to Kate's great surprise, she found her own 
 favorite little work-box, which, as the present of a 
 kind friend, she had so much and often regretted 
 losing. But no art or intreaty could induce Honor 
 to betray the secret of her lov^r ; nor could Kate in- 
 duce her to confess how this I ttle treasure had come 
 into her possession.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 IT was on a bright, clear, frosty morning that Kate 
 
 commenced her journey into shire, and the rapid 
 
 travelling which in these days transports the traveller 
 almost as by magic to the place of destination, had the 
 usual effect of enlivening and cheering her spirits, so 
 that by the time she entered the carriage which was to 
 convey her across the country to Granby Hall, her 
 countenance no longer bore evidence of the sad parting 
 which had so painfully excited her feelings in the morn- 
 ing, and, although still very pale, she looked almost as 
 lovely as usual ; a drive of about two miles brought her 
 to the lodge at the entrance of Sir Edmund Beau- 
 champ's grounds, which was a remarkably ornamental 
 building surrounded with evergreens, and in summer 
 by a profusion of sweet flowers. An elderly woman in 
 a snow white cap and apron came out at the approach 
 of the carriage, and opening the handsome gates ad- 
 mitted it to the beautiful park which surrounded the 
 house : as it wound its way along the principal road 
 Kate observed with delight the beautiful grouping of 
 the superb beech and cedar trees. As she approached 
 the mansion, which was of Elizabethian structure, she 
 perceived that the. grounds rose suddenly behind it, and 
 covered with noble trees formed a delightful shelter
 
 HOME IS HOME. 153 
 
 from the cutting blast of the north-east winds, while in 
 front a sloping lawn of the smoothest turf extended to 
 the margin of a fine piece of water, on which two or 
 three swans were majestically sailing, and on whose 
 bosom, now gilded by the fast declining rays of the 
 setting sun, the house and its surrounding objects were 
 reflected. At the door of entrance stood a handsome 
 carriage, which, as Kate instantly thought, had probably 
 just brought some visitors, and she felt a new alarm lest 
 she should be obliged to meet strangers, but in a mo- 
 ment a sense of her now dependent situation brought 
 the conviction that in all probability she would be in?- 
 rnediately directed to the school-room or to her own 
 apartment ; short time, however, remained for specula- 
 tion, the carriage turned away from the door, and Kate's 
 post-boy, who for a moment had checked his approach 
 now drove up and rung a furious peal at the bell, startling 
 the now shrinking girl, and exciting a thrill of timid 
 anxiety which sent a blush to her before- pale cheek. 
 A footman instantly appeared, and opening the door of 
 the carriage offered an elbow to assist her in her de- 
 scent, and with a respectful air ushered her into an 
 enclosed porch, the inner door of which was of plate 
 glass ; this was opened by a middle-aged man whose 
 plain dress bespoke him a principal domestic, and who, 
 having enquired her name, preceded her across a lofty 
 and well carpeted hall, where a large fire composed of 
 heavy logs of wood blazed in the wide old fire-place, and 
 by its bright and cheerful light brought into bold relief 
 the beautiful specimens of sculpture with which the 
 darkly wainscotted hall was richly ornamented. Quickly, 
 however, Kate followed her c; inductor, and tried to quell
 
 154 HOME i HOME. 
 
 the nervous mauvaise honte which, for the first time in 
 her life, had for some moments oppressed her ; the ser- 
 vant now opened the door on her .eft hand, and an- 
 nouncing " Miss Sinclair," she found herself in a large 
 and handsome library. 
 
 A glance sufficed to show her that this room wag 
 indeed the very beau ideal of comfort. Books, draw- 
 ings, portfolios of rare prints and every arrangement for 
 writing or reading in the most perfect ease and enjoy- 
 ment met her eye ; a large oriel window, with its deep 
 recess, gave a peculiar character to this room, and tLe 
 rays of the setting sun brightened every object around 
 her ; the floor was covered with a rich Persian carpet, 
 and, as in the hall, a large wood fire lent its cheering 
 light and warmth. Standing in front of this fire were 
 a lady and gentleman, the former having just returned 
 from a drive had not yet laid aside her close bonnet 
 and well-furred mantle, but was when Kate entered 
 relating with much animation* of manner, some recent 
 occurrence to the gentleman who, with his newspaper 
 in his hand, was looking kindly and earnestly into the 
 sparkling face of the narrator ; both, however, started 
 on hearing - Mies Sinclair's name, and Sir Edmund 
 for it was he came forward, and with a kindly ex- 
 tended hand, greeted her with so much of friendly 
 courtesy, that she at once regained her self-possession, 
 and when, still retaining the hand which he had taken, 
 he led her forward to meet Lady Beauchamp, she felt 
 quite inclined to return tbe gentle pressure of her soft 
 hand and to repay with a gmile the bright look of 
 welcome which accompanied the kindly assurance that 
 w She was very glad to see her and felt quite obliged
 
 HOME SHOME. 155 
 
 by her having so immediately acceded to her wishes." 
 All three now drew near the fire, and after a few 
 moments of pleasing conversation, Sir Edmund said 
 " Well now, my dear Gertrude, I have no doubt JVlisd 
 Sinclair will feel quite disposed to take some little rest 
 and refreshment after her long journey, but I hope we 
 shall prevail on her to dine with us to-day, if she is not 
 too much fatigued ;" and then, with a slight inclination 
 of his head to Kate, he left the room ; and in a few 
 moments a servant brought in a tray with wine and 
 biscuits, of which Kate partook slightly, but as her 
 still pallid cheek betrayed to her kind observer that 
 all was not yet peace within, she kindly avoided enter- 
 ing on any subject which might agitate or distress her, 
 and very soon proposed a visit to the play-room, where 
 she said, " I dare say we shall . find all my children, 
 for I am sorry to tell you, Miss Sinclair, we have of 
 late had little use for our study, as for some months 
 past I have been advised to give my little girls their 
 entire freedom ; they suffered severely in the summer 
 from a sad fever, and have in consequence been very 
 weak, but they are now quite recovered, and as they 
 possess much docility of disposition, I trust they will 
 repay your kind care and attention." On entering the 
 play-room two very attractive-looking little girls came 
 forward to greet their mamma, who told them she had 
 brought them a new friend who had kindly undertaken 
 to instruct them, and who would, she had no doubt, 
 soon win their affection ; the children held out their 
 little hands to Kate, and received her with that frank 
 good breeding which is always found in children who 
 have been well educated.
 
 156 HOME IS HOME.- 1 
 
 Henrietta, the eldest, was a beautiful little girl of 
 about ten, tall of her age, and elegant in her carriage 
 and movements ; whilst little Gertrude, who was two 
 years younger, still retained an almost babylike appear- 
 ance, and was as fair and sunshiny a creature as could 
 well be imagined the idol of her father, and perhaps 
 & little more petted and indulged by him than was de- 
 sirable. A neat young woman was seated by a table 
 at work. She rose, however, on Lady Beauchamp's en 
 trance, and curtsying respectfully, left the room. Lady 
 Beauchamp presently said, " And where is nurse, Hen- 
 rietta? for I see you have had Bennet sitting with 
 you? is she gone to the nursery with Alice?" 
 
 " Yes, dear mamma, for poor Ally cried and looked 
 so tired that nurse said she required rest, and they left 
 us about half an hour ago." 
 
 " Ah, Miss Sinclair," lady Beauchamp said, " 1 
 must interest you for my poor little sick girl, and en- 
 treat you to bear with patience all her little fancies, 
 for she is in a sad state of suffering. But you must be 
 tired now, and perhaps you will prefer waiting to be 
 introduced to her till to-morrow." 
 
 Kate said she wished much to see the dear little 
 child immediately, and assured lady Beauchamp that 
 it would give her real pleasure to use her best ef- 
 forts to cheer and amuse her. 
 
 Lady Beauchamp then led the way to the nursery, 
 which was adjoining the play-roorn, and as she entered, 
 she said in a soft gentle tone, " Alice, darling, I have 
 brought 'a kind young lady to see you, sha 1 she come 
 and sit by you ?"
 
 HOME IS HOME. 151 
 
 " Is she a j retty lady, mamma, and will she speak 
 gently to me as you do ?'' 
 
 " Why you shall judge for yourself, my love, if you 
 like to see her." 
 
 Kate now quietly approached the poor child, who 
 looked up with eager, anxious eyes, to scan the features 
 of the stranger, who was, she felt assured, hjr sisters' 
 new governess. Kate's eyes filled with tears as she 
 contemplated the little suffering being before her. On 
 a sort of bed-chair which moved on large and easily- 
 rolling castors, extended at full length and white as 
 marble, lay the little girl, for whom her kindly sympa- 
 thies had been demanded, and by her side, anxious 
 to forestall her every wish, and obey every look, stood a 
 respectable-looking nurse, whose pitying eyes seldom 
 wandered from her helpless charge. Long and ear- 
 nestly poor Alice gazed upon -Kate's countenance, then 
 holding out one little thin hand, she said, " Come close 
 by me, for I am sure I shall like you very much." 
 
 Kate gladly obeyed this summons, and taking the 
 little hand she kissed it so tenderly, so gently, that 
 again the child repeated, " Oh, I am sure I shall like 
 you, and I will try to be good and then you will stay 
 with me, won't you ? but tell me your name." 
 
 " My name is Kate, and I already feel that I shall 
 love you very dearly ;" and kneeling by her couch she 
 kissed the little pallid face and gently stroked her 
 hands, while Lady Beauchamp was thankfully observ- 
 ing the deep interest which her poor child had already 
 excited in the heart of her young companion, and men- 
 tally indulging a hope, that by judicious care and man- 
 agement even yet the life of the little Alice might be
 
 158 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 spared and her health restored. In a few moments she 
 said, " And now, my dear Alice, you will let Miss Sin- 
 clair leave you, as I am sure she must be fatigued, for 
 she has travelled a long distance to-day, and she will 
 come and see you again to-morrow." 
 
 " Oh, dear mamma, I cannot spare her ; and I uust 
 call her Kate : may I ?" she asked in such a touching 
 tone that Kate's lip quivered as she said, " Oh yes, dear 
 child, pray do, and remember I shall never allow you 
 to call me by any other name." And now with an af- 
 fectionate kiss she left her, and followed Lady Beau- 
 champ, who told her as they passed along the gallery 
 which led from the children's apartments, that this 
 poor child had two years before injured her back, and 
 that she had never recovered, but that, though still a 
 sad sufferer, she was assured by her physician that the 
 case was not a hopeless one, and that she might and 
 probably would ultimately recover, if she could be in- 
 duced to submit to the needful restraint and discipline ; 
 and gladly did Kate promise to devote her leisure to 
 the poor little- invalid. Lady Beauchamp now turned 
 into a comfortable and nicely-arranged room, which she 
 told Kate would be hers, and that she would find a 
 small sitting-room within, which would also be at her 
 disposal; then, looking at her watch, she said, " But it 
 is quite time to prepare for dinner, and when you re- 
 quire assistance, Miss Sinclair, Bennett will attend you" 
 and with a kind smile she left the room. 
 
 On finding herself alone Kate's first impulse was 
 to throw herself info a chair by the fire, and to give 
 vent in a sudden flood of tears to the mingled feelings 
 which oppressed her. For a few moments she wept
 
 HOME IS HOME. 159 
 
 without restraint, but as she began to regain her com- 
 posure what a tide of tender recollections rushed through 
 her mind, bringing before her in rapid succession the 
 events of the last long day : the breakfast in that 
 strange old room, with the chilling sensations of early 
 winter morning ; her mother's sweet anxious face and 
 scarcely-restrained tears ; her father's assumed cheer- 
 fulness, which his trembling hand and sudden start so 
 entirely defeated ; the children's sorrowing looks ; and 
 then, dear Charles oh ! still she feels the pressure of 
 his loving arm round her slender waist, and hears again 
 his whispered words of hope and comfort j poor Honor, 
 too, with her loud and eloquent lament, and the bless- 
 ing invoked from " Hivin upon her dare sweet inno- 
 cent head ;" then came the hurried drive to the station 
 the ringing bell the shrieking engine the hasty adieu, 
 and then the sudden starting of the train, leaving her 
 in doubt whether she had shaken hands at parting with 
 poor Charles, whose tearful eyes betray that his boyish 
 heart refuses to obey his manhood's pride : soon she 
 had lost sight of the beloved faces, and then followed 
 dreamy recollections of sweeping rapidly along, of soon 
 passing another station, of catching a glimpse of some 
 people whom she felt sure were the Daltons, and with 
 them little Fido, and this imagination occupied some 
 little time but was never satisfactorily solved. How- 
 ever, it was a pleasure even to think of having seen the 
 " dear little pet," and as the sorrowful reminiscences 
 began to yield to more cheering visions she dwelt with 
 much pleasure on the beauties of the park and grounds 
 by which she had arrived at her destination, and above
 
 160 HOME IS HOMJE. 
 
 all she recalled with feelings of real gratitude the kind 
 reception with which her new friends had greeted her. 
 
 At length she roused herself from the reverie into 
 which she had fallen, and having hastily arranged her 
 dress in a few minutes was ready to join Lady Beau- 
 champ in the drawing-room. As she crossed the hall 
 the footman whom she had first seen met her but did 
 not turn to open the door of the drawing-room for her, 
 and she felt that this little slight was intended to re- 
 mind her of her position in the family. For a moment 
 her sensitive nature shrunk from the implied insult and 
 a sudden glow suffused her cheek, but in a moment 
 she condemned the pride of heart which had induced it, 
 and mentally resolved to strive against a feeling which 
 must have its origin in evil. 
 
 She found Sir Edmund and Lady Beauchamp in a 
 room which was called the small drawing-room, in which, 
 when alone, they usually passed their evenings. A 
 grand piano and beautiful harp, with other musical in- 
 struments, gave promise to Kate of an indulgence which 
 for some time she had been denied, and it was with real 
 delight that she heard Lady Beauchamp say they were 
 both passionately fond of music. " And you play, Miss 
 Sinclair ? indeed I am told you are quite a proficient." 
 
 " Oh, indeed," said Kate, " I must assure you I de- 
 serve no such distinction, though I must admit that I 
 have always been devotedly fond of music, and as my 
 father is himself very musical he was anxious that my 
 taste should be early cultivated, and hitherto music has 
 been our greatest pleasure, but," she added, " it is long 
 since I touched a piano, and I fear I am sadly in need 
 of practice now."
 
 HOME IS HOME. 161 
 
 " Well, my dear Miss Sinclair," Sir Edmund good- 
 humoredly, said, " we sliall have great pleasure in 
 giving you an opportunity of recalling your skill, and I 
 hope we shall have a little agreeable music to cheer us 
 in the evening." 
 
 Dinner was now announced, and they proceeded to 
 the dining-room. Here Kate was much struck with 
 the elegant simplicity of all the arrangements, and 
 quite charmed with the easy refined manners of her 
 new friends. During the time the servants remained 
 in the room the conversation was of rather a desultory 
 character ; Lady Beauchamp, however, soon reminded 
 Kate, that she must not forget her good intentions, and 
 that she did not mean to excuse the promised practice ; 
 after which she led the way to the drawing-room, 
 where they were shortly afterwards joined by Sir Ed- 
 mund, who, almost immediately, proposed that Lady 
 Beauchamp should play one of his favorite airs ; this 
 she did, and Kate, delighted with the brilliancy of her 
 execution, felt a shrinking fear least her own style of 
 playing should not prove satisfactory to her auditors, 
 so that it was with a beating heart and trembling fin- 
 gers that she took her seat at the instrument, and at 
 Lady Beauchamp's request, began to play one of Men- 
 delssohn's exquisite " Songs without words," but timid 
 as she was, her love for music prevailed, and absorbed 
 in the beauties of the composition before her, she for- 
 got all other feelings, and when she ceased she was 
 most warmly applauded by her delighted auditors. 
 Kate's musical attainments were of no common order, 
 aud her pure and genuine taste which enabled her to 
 embody, as it were, Ihe e-ery feelings of the composer,
 
 162 HOME I HOME. 
 
 produced an effect which none but a highly cultivated 
 ear could appreciate, though all must admi; e ; the ex- 
 treme beauty of her hands, and the grace which ani- 
 mated them, added much to the charm of her perform- 
 ance, and her speaking eye and ever- varying counte- 
 nance engaged the sympathy and interest of all around 
 her : she possessed also a most flexible and beautiful na- 
 tural voice, and at Lady Beauchamp's request she sang 
 that exquisite song of Mozart's, " Dove sono i bei Mo- 
 ment" with such elegant pathos and tenderness, that 
 her success was complete, and Sir Edmund, who was 
 a devoted admirer of Mozart, drew near her, and ex- 
 pressed in the warmest terms his gratification at find- 
 ing that she was not so spoiled by the modern style of 
 music as to discard his favorite composer ; " And I am 
 sure," said he, " the charming manner in which you have 
 just sung, is sufficient proof that Mozart is fully appre- 
 ciated and admired by you." 
 
 This Kate readily admitted, and said that to her fa- 
 ther she was chiefly indebted for the development and 
 direction of her taste in music, and that having himself 
 a decided bias in favor of Mozart and Beethoven, he 
 had been very desirous that his children should culti- 
 vate a taste for their compositions. 
 
 " Quite right, quite right," Sir Edmund replied, " I 
 rejoice to hear that you have been so judiciously direct- 
 ed. I am, I confess, no great admirer of the present 
 school of music." 
 
 This led to an animated discussion in which Lady 
 Beauchamp defended with some warmth the merits of 
 u SchulofT," Mendelssohn, and even Auber, but at this 
 name, Sir Edmund rather impatiently interrupted her,
 
 HOME IS HOME. 163 
 
 and said, " Depend upon it, Gertrude, with your good 
 taste, you will tire of these composers, and lay them 
 aside long before the world in general ceases to admire 
 them, for you are too sincere a lover of good sound 
 music to be long satisfied with any of the compositions 
 you have named, though, remember, I am far from deny- 
 ing that they possess great merit, but in my opinion the 
 works of Mozart, Haydn, and Beethoven will maintain 
 their pre-eminence, in the estimation of musicians, as 
 those of Shakespeare ever must among the lovers of 
 true poetry ; but I must not bore Miss Sinclair with 
 my, perhaps, rather antiquated ideas." 
 
 The conversation was here interrupted, for, to 
 Kate's great surprise, a sweet musical chime was heard 
 in the hall which continued for about five minutes, and 
 Lady Beauchamp told her that this was their usual 
 nm.ie of summoning the household to their evening de- 
 votions, and that the old clock from whence these 
 sounds proceeded had been in their family many years, 
 and had never been used for any other than the pre- 
 sent purpose. 
 
 A servant now entered, and holding open the door 
 for them, the party passed into the hall, at the end of 
 which was a deeply-recessed oriel window, which was 
 fitted up as a sort of oratory ; the steps leading into it 
 were covered with crimson cloth as was also the floor 
 of the recess ; in the centre was placed a desk with a 
 fald-stool before it, and with an open book upon it, at 
 each side of which was a silver branch with candles. 
 Knecling-stools occupied the sides of the room, and by 
 day the whole was concealed by the heavy folds of a 
 crimson curtain. The domestics were all assembled,
 
 164 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 for it was an established rule that none should absent 
 themselves without permission ; and Sir Edmutd him- 
 self conducted the prayers of his household with much 
 fervent piety and devotion. 
 
 In a few days Kate was regularly installed in her 
 new office, and with written rules for herself and her 
 pupils, everything went on with the utmost regularity, 
 but as Lady Beauchamp had requested her not to al- 
 low the children to pursue their studies too closely at 
 first, Kate found that she had more leisure than she 
 could have anticipated, and she was delighted to de- 
 vote a large portion of it to the pleasure of soothing 
 and comforting the little Alice, who became daily and 
 hourly more attached to her. Seated close by her 
 couch, with her little thin hand closely clasped within 
 her own, Kate would lead the little creature to open 
 all her heart in conversation, answering her in the 
 most simple language, and ever seeking to teach her 
 the gentle lesson of patience and confiding trust in her 
 heavenly Father. At times, poor little Alice was sadly 
 irritable, and Kate occasionally found both herself and 
 the nurse in tears, and then the child would say in her 
 sweet, touching voice, " Oh. Kate, you will not love me, 
 nobody will love me, for I am so very, very naughty ; 
 but pray, tell poor nurse that I am sorry now, for do 
 you know, Kate, I tried to strike her just now for 
 hurting me when she placed my pillows, and yet she 
 was not careless but very gentle with me, and* now I 
 am so vexed." And then nurse was recalled, and Kate 
 tried to induce the little girl herself to confess her 
 fault. It was not, however, at all times that Alice was 
 disposed to be so amiable, and she required much per-
 
 HOME IS HOME. 165 
 
 suasion before she would admit that she was wrong ; 
 her kind monitress would then gently, but earnestly, 
 explain to her the sinfulness of pride and passion, and 
 lead her by degrees to real patience. After any of 
 these scenes she would put her little arm round Kate's 
 neck, and pressing her cheek close to hers, would say, 
 " God will bless you, dear Kate, for you are so go^d ; 
 oh, I will try to learn of you" And Kate, in gentle 
 whispers, would answer, " Not of me, dearest child, not 
 of me, but of Him who wa9 ' meek and lowly of heart,' 
 and then my darling Alice will find peace." And the 
 little suffering child was hushed, and with humble con- 
 trite looks would promise to be good and gentle. 
 
 For some days after Kate's arrival at G-ranby, the 
 weather had been so cold and wet, with driving sleet 
 and snow, that she and her little pupils had been en- 
 tirely confined to the house. A bright, frosty morning 
 now tempted her to lay aside the books and prepare for 
 a long walk ; the children, delighted at the prospect 
 of emancipation from their lessons, were in joyous 
 spirits, and immediately proposed that they should 
 walk to Granby, and show Kate the pretty village 
 and church, which she had not yet seen. All were soon 
 equipped in their warm, comfortable walking dresses, 
 and the little girls, each taking a hand of their kind 
 young governess, proceeded through a shrubbery path 
 at the back of the house, which winding round the 
 hill soon led them to a -point where the village, with 
 its pretty church, could be seen in the valley before 
 them at the distance of about a mile, surrounded by 
 well-watered meadows, and thickly wooded hedge-rows ; 
 but as Henrietta observed, this was " the worst season
 
 166 HOME I S 11 O M E. 
 
 of the year for seeing the country, though when spring 
 comes, I am sure you will be delighted with this spot, 
 and I hope we shall often come here. And do you 
 know," she added, " we often used to bring poor Alice 
 here, and make pretty garlands and wreaths of wild 
 flowers to amuse her." Some few moments they lin- 
 gered, but finding it very cold, they soon ran down 
 the slope which led to the village path, and pursued their 
 Tay across some fields, through which a small but ra- 
 pid stream found its way over shallow pebbly beds, 
 making sweet music in its onward course, and now 
 overhung with shrubs and alders, from whose lower 
 branches pendant icicles were glittering in the sun- 
 shine ; the ground was hard and the little herbage 
 which remained was white with hoarfrost, and crisply 
 crumpled beneath the feet of the children, who with 
 rosy laughing faces, were amusing themselves by run- 
 ning races in advance of Kate, who felt half disposed 
 to join in their diversion ; every tree was feathered 
 with sparkling gems of hoarfrost, which reflected back 
 a thousand brilliant colors in the sunlight, and now 
 they arrived at the last stile, on each side of which 
 the villagers had formed a sort of seat overshadowed 
 in summer by hawthorn and other shrubs, which 
 formed a natural arch above it, and from hence could be 
 seen the village green with its pretty schoolhouse, and 
 a little in the distance, the church, with its picturesque 
 grey tower covered with ivy. As they approach this 
 spot the clock strikes twelve, and while for a moment 
 they pause to listen to its sound, the door of the school- 
 house opens, and forth rush the village children, who 
 with boisterous glee disperse themselves in picturesque
 
 HOME IS HOME. 167 
 
 groups and complete the beauties of the simple 
 scene. 
 
 " Now, dear Miss Sinclair, you must come and see 
 Mr. Elliott's house, it is so very pretty, and in such a 
 lovely situation, and he is such a dear good man that we 
 all love him dearly." 
 
 Kate, wno wished to see as much as possible of this 
 sweet place, readily complied with their request and fol- 
 lowed her little guides across the green and through a 
 narrow lane, at the end of which they came to a low 
 green paling well backed by evergreens, which com- 
 pletely formed a screen to the garden into which through 
 a little ornamental gate they now turned ; following a 
 circuitous path through a small shrubbery they came 
 to an ivy-covered building with gable*roofs and dormer 
 windows, evidently of no modern construction. A 
 smooth, well-kept lawn with rustic baskets for flowers 
 placed here and there and skirted by the shrubbery, 
 through which they had just passed, occupied the space 
 in front of this nice old vicarage, while, in the back 
 ground some fine old elms lent a shade and shelter 
 from the summer heat ; but Kate, who had no idea that 
 the children would lead her within view of the windows, 
 now insisted on immediately retracing their steps, 
 though Henrietta assured her that they always came 
 to see Dr. Elliott, and that he would be quite vexed 
 if they did not go in. At this moment the old gentle- 
 man himself made his appearance from a walk close 
 by them, and holding out a hand to each of the children 
 said " Ah, my dear little friends ! I must decide this 
 question : you are quite right in thinking that I shall 
 be vexed if you run away without paying your usual
 
 168 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 visit." Then turning to Kate, he took off his hat and 
 said, " Pray indulge me by allowing my little favorites 
 to stay with me a few moments. I am sure you must 
 all need rest after your long walk." 
 
 Having gained a timid consent from Kate, he led 
 the way into the house ; passing through a small vesti- 
 bule they turned into a study, the arrangements of 
 which quite delighted Kate ; the walls were fitted up 
 with well-filled book-shelves ; a large easy chair was 
 placed near the fire, and by its side stood a desk-table 
 with a large Bible open upon it j a long table, covered 
 with books and papers, occupied the whole centre of the 
 room, showing that this was the old gentleman's usual 
 sitting-room ; the windows, which had deep old fashioned 
 seats, were of stained glass in the upper compartments, 
 and as Kate took her seat near one of them she saw 
 that it commanded a view of the pretty tower of the 
 village church. The owner of this comfortable dwell- 
 ing much interested Kate, who was struck by his dig- 
 nified appearance and manner : he was indeed a fine 
 venerable-looking person ; tall, though somewhat bent 
 by years, with hair of silver white, and a countenance 
 full of benevolence and kindly feeling, Dr. Elliott never 
 failed to command the respect of all who knew him ; 
 he now seate d 'himself in his large easy chair, and tak- 
 ing little Gertrude on his knee, he pretended to scold 
 her for not having been polite to her friend, saying, 
 " You must introduce me, Gertrude, you know mamma 
 expects you to do the honors in her absence :" but Ger- 
 trude said, " I don't know what you mean, Dr. Elliott ; 
 what is introduce ? and what are honors ?" " Ah, 
 little one ! Well, you have quite posed me now ; well.
 
 HOME IS HOME. 169 
 
 well, I suppose I must ask this lady to indulge an old 
 man's curiosity, and tell me who it is that has done 
 me the kindness of bringing my little visitors to see 
 me to-day ?" 
 
 Kate blushed, but said " My name is Sinclair, and 
 I am governess to these dear children." 
 
 Won by her sweet voice and simple manner, Dr. 
 Elliott rose, and holding out his hand said, " I hope 
 then we shall be soon good friends, for I must beg, my 
 dear young lady, that you will as frequently as possible 
 allow me an opportunity of seeing your little pupils, 
 and you must remember that a visit to a solitary old 
 man is an act of charity. But now let me ask, have 
 you seen my church, and what part of the village have 
 you visited ?" 
 
 " Oh, Dr. Elliott," said Henrietta, " we only just 
 brought her across the green, and she has never seen the 
 church or the dear old poor house ; so now do come 
 with us as usual, and take us to see blind William and 
 good old Susan Miles, come !" 
 
 The children each seized a hand of their kind old 
 friend, who said, " Well, well, my dears, if Miss Sin- 
 clair will accept my escort, nothing would please 1 me so 
 much as to accompany you in your morning ramble." 
 
 Henrietta flew to fetch his hat and Gertrude to 
 find his stick, and with a kind smile he said, " Well, 
 you are impatient, I see, so I must not ask for a longer 
 visit." 
 
 Pleasantly did they all chat and laugh as they pur- 
 sued their path towards the church, which was their 
 first object of interest ; but, though very clean and kept 
 in nice order, Kate could not but lament that such a 
 8
 
 170 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 really beautiful edifice should be so disfigured by high 
 pews and heavy galleries ; and she perhaps a little dis- 
 appointed her kind conductor, who could not see any 
 the slightest defect, so long had he been accustomed to 
 consider his church quite perfection. But Kate waa 
 no flatterer, and though she warmly commended the 
 picturesque beauty of the building, she was too sincere 
 to assume a satisfaction which she could not feel, and 
 she was quite relieved when the children impatiently 
 reminded her that they must proceed quickly, as other- 
 wise they should not have time to visit the almshouse. 
 
 Crossing the lower side of the green, they now ap- 
 proached an old-fashioned heavy gate, which admitted 
 them to a small courtyard, one side of which was occu- 
 pied by a long row of old houses of the date of Edward 
 the Sixth, and having the windows and pointed roofs 
 of that period j one of these houses was appropriated 
 to each tenant of the almshouse, and the whole was kept 
 in the most excellent order by Sir Edmund Beauchamp, 
 who was the Lord of the Manor. 
 
 Standing at the door of one of these houses was an 
 old man, erect in form and with a sweet calm counte- 
 nance,. his bright blue eyes appeared to beam upon the 
 approaching visitors, and in no way could it have been 
 discovered that their " sense was shut ;" his dress was 
 a long dark blue gown, which hung in ample folds from 
 his neck, round which a spotless white kerchief was 
 carefully adjusted ; his shoes were high on the instep, 
 and had large silver buckles as fasteners, and he sup- 
 ported himself by leaning on a large stick ; standing 
 with his white hairs uncovered, he turned on the party 
 with a smil* rf welcome.
 
 HOME IS HOME. 171 
 
 " Well, William, said Dr. Elliott, " I suppose you 
 know who are my c japanions to-day ?" 
 
 " Why yes, sir, I believe I hear my two kind little 
 ladies ; but I think I heard a stranger's step besides 
 when you were coming athwart the court-yard." 
 
 ' : Yes, William, you are quite right," said little Ger- 
 trude ; " but she will not be a stranger long, she is 
 such a dear, kind lady." 
 
 " I shall be proud to hear her, miss ; but my blind- 
 ness is a sad privation, for I quite long to see ye all." 
 
 Ah, William," said Dr. Elliott, the loss of sight 
 must indeed be a sad trial, but you have the blessing 
 of an enlightened heart, aud I know and am sure, that 
 by the aid of God's Holy Spirit, you have been per- 
 mitted to find a consolation which many are denied, 
 and can with sincere faith confess, that the Lord hath 
 for you done all things well." 
 
 " Yes, sir, I thank the Lord, and your good teach- 
 ing, I am more happy and peaceful like than most 
 folks ; and I feel that if my eyes are dark, why they 
 are kept from beholding vanity, and doubtless all 
 things work together for good to them that loves the 
 Lord, and I humbly hope, sir, I may say that my 
 greatest joy and comfort is found in his service. But 
 can't you please to walk in, sir ? 
 
 " Not to-day, William, not to-day, for I am taking 
 this young lady to see my village, and I fear we have 
 not much time to spare." 
 
 " And make so bold, sir," said William, " who may 
 the young lady be, as my dear little Miss Gertrude 
 praised so well just now ?" 
 
 " My nam is Sinclair," said Kate ; " and I hope,
 
 172 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 my good friend, you will soon recognise my step, when 
 I come with my dear little pupils to visit yt.u." 
 
 " Thankee, miss, I am sure, if I may trust my hear- 
 ing, I shall not forget your sweet voice, and I knowa 
 your step already." 
 
 The clock now striking one, reminded Kate that in 
 half-an-hour they would be expected at home, and re- 
 luctantly she felt obliged to say adieu to old William, 
 and telling Dr. Elliott that they must defer till another 
 time their visit to old Susan, they shook hands with 
 much warmth and cordiality and parted, Kate feeling 
 that in him she had secured a kind and valuable friend.
 
 CHAPTER X\ I. 
 
 TIME glided by on the downy wings of peace and tran- 
 quillity, filling Kate's heart with joy and thankfulness. 
 She had now passed several months at Granby Hall, 
 and in the fulfilment of every appointed duty she found 
 each day increase her happiness ; loving and beloved 
 by all around her, as yet no cloud had arisen to disturb 
 the sunshine of her heart ; her letters from home were 
 of the most satisfactory character, except that they ex- 
 pressed regret that no situation could be obtained for 
 Charles. Her father had found an excellent purchaser 
 for some of his best water-color drawings, and was 
 much cheered by the hope that he should by the aid 
 of his pencil be enabled to assist in providing for the 
 comfort of his family. Her mother's health was fast 
 improving, and the dear little ones were well and 
 happy. From Miss Hartop, too, Kate received most 
 satisfactory letters ; she had left the situation which 
 had been so far from comfortable, and was residing 
 with a Mrs. Marston, a widow lady, who had engaged 
 th 3 services of Miss Hartop in educating her two little 
 girls; and here the kind Miss Hartop had found a 
 very pleasant, quiet home. This information gave 
 Kate sincere pleasure, as she had felt some fear that
 
 174 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 her kind and generous friend had for her sake relin- 
 quished an engagement with Lady Beauchamp. 
 
 One evening when Kate was occupied in writing 
 answers to these letters, she received a pencilled note 
 from Lady Btauchamp, requesting to see her in the 
 drawing-room ; on obeying the summons, she found her 
 and Sir Edmund standing in close conversation near 
 one of the windows ; it was evident they were discussing 
 some subject in which she was interested, for on her 
 entrance a kindly smile from both was directed towards 
 her, and Lady Beauchamp immediately advanced to 
 meet her ; then pressing one of Kate's hands in both 
 her own, she said, " I must be the first to congratulate 
 you, dear Miss Sinclair, although I must leave Sir 
 Edmund to explain the cause of my doing so." And 
 then Sir Edmund, whose eye always filled with the 
 ready tear of sympathy, said, " I am glad indeed to tell 
 you, my dear young lady, that I have fortunately suc- 
 ceeded in gaining for your brother the promise of a very 
 excellent appointment, which will, I trust, prove highly 
 advantageous, and I hope agreeable to him ; and I am 
 sure you will wish to be the first to communicate to 
 him this welcome intelligence." Sir Edmund paused, 
 but, perceiving that surprise and pleasure prevented 
 Kate's immediate reply, he went on to say, that in con- 
 sequence of his having heard that her brother was anx- 
 iously seeking for some situation, he had made enqui- 
 ries of their mutual friend, Miss Hartop, and had heard 
 from her such an excellent account of Charles, that he 
 had been induced to write to his old friend, Sir Archi- 
 bald Munroe, requesting him to exert his influencean 
 her brother's favor. " Some few weeks have elapsed
 
 II CHE IS HOME. 1 75 
 
 since then," he continued, " and I am sure my dear 
 Miss Sinclair will believe that the answer which I have 
 just received has really afforded me most sincere plea- 
 sure." 
 
 Kate's quivering lip and tearful eye spoke volumes 
 of the gratitude which filled her heart, yet could she 
 find no words in which to express her thanks, and all 
 unused to guile or ceremony she clasped the hands of 
 both her kind friends, and looking into Sir Edmund's 
 face with childlike simplicity, she uttered a fervent 
 " God bless you." The gentle pressure of her soft hands 
 was returned with even affectionate kindness, and her 
 tears were understood and received as more than suffi- 
 cient acknowledgment of the kind act which had excit- 
 ed them, but in a moment Sir Edmund said in a cheer- 
 ful tone, " Well, then, we will consider that as a settled 
 affair, for I conclude I may accept Sir Archibald's kind 
 offer for your brother. What say you, can you venture 
 to decide for him in his absence ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, yes, Sir Edmund, he will be only too thank- 
 ful J am sure. And if you approve it I should like to 
 write to him directly and tell him of your kindness 
 and his own good fortune." 
 
 " Do so, then, and tell him from me that I should 
 advise him to see Sir Archibald as soon as possible, 
 and offer his thanks to him in person, and? if you 
 will prepare your letter I will give you a note of 
 introduction to inclose. Now then, for an hour of 
 writing, and then, remember, I shall expect to hear a 
 little of my favorite Mozart." As the door closed upon 
 Kate ? s receding footsteps, Sir Edmund said. "What a 
 charming naive creature that is ; I think I never met
 
 i76 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 with a more gentle and attractive person in n.y life, jet 
 withal it is a firm aad noble character, and she is supe- 
 rior to most of her sex I think." 
 
 " Gently, gently , my good sir ! remember ladies do 
 not bear a rival near the throne ; but seriously speak- 
 ing, I quite agree with you she is a sweet girl, and my 
 heart warms towards her more each hour, indeed I 
 already love her almost as I should an elder daugh- 
 ter." 
 
 " Or sister, dearest Gertrude, for she is very much 
 what a sister of yours would be ; but now let me ask you 
 a question. I am going to write to Sir Archibald, 
 shall I inclose a note for Henry Carleton, and remind 
 him of his promise to come and see us ? he has now so 
 particular an interest in this neighborhood, I should 
 think he must wish to come and look about him a 
 little ; what say you, shall I ask him ?" 
 
 " yes, certainly," said lady Beauchamp, " you 
 know he is a great favorite of mine, and by the way, if 
 you have no objection I should like to ask Isabel and 
 Julia at the same time, and I will write to them di- 
 rectly, for I am sure they will be delighted to 
 come." 
 
 " Well then, so let it be, but I must forewarn you, 
 my dear Gertrude, all speculations in that quarter will 
 I am sure be unavailing. I am certain Isabel went 
 too far in her attentions to Mr. Carleton, when he was 
 last here, and I plainly perceived he entertained no 
 particular penchant for her. However, I shall leave 
 all that to your own discretion, and now, if you please, 
 we will prepare our letters." * 
 
 It was to Sir Edmund a subject of some chagrin,
 
 HOME IS HOME. 177 
 
 that these young ladies were to be invited to meet his 
 young friend Carleton, as they were never favorites with 
 him, though as the children of lady Beauchamp's sister 
 he could not of course object to her wish of receiv- 
 ing them at his house ; he solaced himself, however, 
 by writing a most pressing invitation to Henry Carle- 
 ton, to whom he was much attached, and who had, in 
 consequence of his friendship for Sir Edmund, recently 
 purchased the advowson of the living of Granby. 
 
 Soon after these letters were completed, Kate re- 
 turned to enjoy the promised hour of music, and never 
 did she feel so desirous to please her kind and at- 
 tentive auditors, though her mind was filled with the 
 thoughts of home, and all its dear associations. She 
 longed to know how her dear parents and Charles, 
 would be affected by the news which she had just con- 
 veyed to them, and as the thoughts passed her mind, 
 she mentally exclaimed, " Oh, that some kindly fairy 
 would bring me a magic mirror in which, like Elfrida 
 of old, I might witness the joy of my dear ones when 
 they receive my welcome letter." 
 
 8*
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 BUT although no answering fay brought to Kate's 
 longing eyes the wished-for " mirror," and she must 
 trust to memory alone for the imagined semblance of 
 those she loves, we will take the liberty of once more 
 transporting ourselves into the presence of the beloved 
 ones she so longed to see, and by following the post- 
 man who is rapidly approaching their door I doubt not 
 we shall gain admission to their family circle ; not that 
 he will so far intrude himself, and we must seek another 
 guide ere we shall reach our wished-for destination. 
 His loud knock now echoes through the street, and at 
 the well-known sound little Maggie's " ' saft blue e'en ' 
 come peering forth to see gin he's brought a letter for 
 Miss Mffffat," and as the postman turns away from the 
 door she rushes hastily into the room of her mistress 
 and says, ' : 'Deed then here's a sight for sair een, for 
 here's a letter for Maister Charles frae sweet Miss 
 Kate, an' I'm thinking he'll be amaist beside his sel' 
 wi' joy ; shall I call Honor ? or may I tak it to him 
 mysel' ? oh do let me." 
 
 " Yes, yes, Maggie, rin awa', an' gin ye can do it wi'- 
 out offending, bide a wee an' speer how the dearest of 
 young leddies is in her health noo, but dinna be owr 
 that curious, and dinna bidr lang. hinny."
 
 HOME IS HOME. 179 
 
 With breathless speed little Maggie mounted the 
 long flights of stairs, and soon, with her young hands 
 trembling with delight, she stands before the assembled 
 party in the studio, still the favorite sitting-room of 
 the Sinclairs, and now presenting a beautiful picture of 
 domestic home-like comfort. Mr. Sinclair is seated 
 before his easel, on which rests a lovely landscape, 
 nearly completed, and Maggie's stolen glance presents 
 to her eye a group of cattle standing at eventide by 
 the brink of a limpid stream of water, which, as she 
 thinks, " makes one thirsty only to look upon it ;" 
 beautiful trees too, are there, and distant hills lighted 
 up by the red glow of sunset, and Maggie, mentally 
 ejaculates, "'Deed then, them cows is niuckle weel aflf, 
 I'm thinking, to hae sic a nice cool shade upon siccen 
 a het evening !" Near the easel stands little Emily 
 watching her father's progress with no small interest, 
 as in her a taste for his delightful art has strongly de- 
 veloped itself. Mrs. Sinclair is occupied in listening 
 to little Rosy, who, in subdued tones, is repeating a 
 French lesson, and Charles is seated at a table writ- 
 ing. All are busy, and all look well anr 1 happy. A 
 moment the child paused to look upon this tranquil 
 scene, and then she hastily turned to Charles, and put 
 into his hand the letter from his sister. 
 
 Little Maggie waited for a few moments, hoping to 
 make the inquiries which Miss Mofiat had suggested, 
 but Charles' sudden start from his scat as soon as he 
 had read the first line, excited the interest of all the 
 party, and the little girl was hastily dismissed, when, 
 shutting the door, he announced to his parents with 
 breathless delight the contents of Kate's letter. " An<J
 
 180 HOME 18 HOME. 
 
 now, dear kind father, I shall no longer remain to 
 burthen you with my maintenance, but shall, I trust, 
 be able to assist in removing some of your difficulties 
 and privations. Oh, I am so happy, so truly thank- 
 ful !" 
 
 With a voice somewhat inarticulate from emotion, 
 his father warmly congratulated him, but his mother's 
 tears alone spoke her tender sympathy in his happi- 
 ness ; other thoughts, too, crowded upon her heart, as 
 she feels that one by one the children she has so idol- 
 ized are removed from the home of their parents. 
 
 After the first feelings had somewhat subsided Mr. 
 Sinclair advised Charles to seek Sir Archibald Mun- 
 roe as soon as possible, as it would be right to lose 
 no time in availing himself of Sir Edmund's kind note 
 of introduction, and Charles went immediately to pre- 
 pare for his visit. While he was thus engaged his 
 father and mother conversed with much interest on 
 the subject of his bright prospects, and dwelt also with 
 real pleasure on the comforting assurances which Kate 
 had given them of her own happiness, acknowl )dging 
 with all the pride of fond parents the advantages which 
 all had derived from her sweet and amiable character 
 and conduct. 
 
 When Charles returned to receive his father's final 
 instructions, relating to his approaching interview with 
 his new patron, his whole appearance was such as to 
 justify the hope that the first impression which would 
 be conveyed might be a favorable one. Charles was a 
 fine handsome lad of about seventeen, tall and well- 
 formed, with a sparkling blue eye that spoke of a fine 
 generous disposition and kind heart within j gentle-
 
 HOME IS HOME. 181 
 
 manly in dress, and with a disengaged and easy though 
 not presuming manner he was a favorite with all who 
 knew him. 
 
 After a few parting words of advice Charles de- 
 parted on his interesting errand. On the stairs he met 
 Maggie, and in amends for his hasty dismissal of her 
 in the morning he spares one of his precious minutes 
 to speak a kind word to the gentle child, an^ comforts 
 her little heart by telling her that her " dear Miss 
 Kate is well," and has sent some good news, and 
 then he makes up for his loss of time by springing down 
 the last six steps of the long staircase ; but here ano- 
 ther hindrance arose, for he must tell good Miss Moffat 
 the joyful intelligence which had reached him, knowing, 
 as he said, that she would " be "so pleased." And no 
 one could doubt the sincerity with which she uttered 
 her simple assurance that " 'Deed, sir, ye do me nae mair 
 than justice ; I am varra glad to hear ye hae sae muckle 
 cause to be thankfu', an' I truly wish ye joy and happi- 
 ness in yer new vocation whatsoever it may be." Once 
 more Charles* prepared to depart, but his cup of con- 
 gratulation was not yet full : at the door he met poor 
 Honor, who as usual had been " detained" at the green- 
 grocer's and was yet to learn the events of the morning. 
 On seeing Charles prepared for some unusual occasion 
 she exclaimed, " Och, thin, masther Charles, sir, what 
 has happened since I left ye, for I see something new 
 has chanced, and may be ye are going to see my 
 darlint Miss Kate, or perhaps yer going to fetch her 
 home ?" 
 
 " No, no, my good Honor, not so ; but something as 
 you say has ' chanced,' and we hav<- received good news
 
 182 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 from my sister ;" and then he briefly explained to the 
 kind-hearted girl that his own future prospects had be - 
 come bright and promising. 
 
 "And thank G-od for that same, my dear young 
 masther ! long may you live to enjoy them, and may 
 the Hivins niver cease to shower down the best of bless- 
 ings upon yer head ! May the sun of yer happiness 
 never set, and may the saints in glory be about yer 
 bed ! and will yer lave us entirely, Masther Charles, 
 as my poor dear Miss Kate did ?" 
 
 " Oh, no, Honor, I shall live in London and sLJl 
 often come and see you all." 
 
 " Thanks be to God for that same ! but I musn't 
 be yer hindrance any longer, and my lady will be wait- 
 ing for me, let alone Miss Rose and Miss Emily that I 
 promised to take out a walking wid me." 
 
 At last Charles steps forth into the street, and 
 swinging his little cane in his hand, he seems to tread 
 on air, so buoyant is his heart, so exhiliarated are his 
 spirits, but it is a long distance to that part of town in 
 which Sir Archibald resides, and he gladly avails him- 
 self of the first sound of " Cab, sir ?" and finds him- 
 self whirled through the streets at dangerous speed, so 
 that long before he has settled in his mind what had 
 better be his form of address, and has scarcely prevail- 
 ed upon himself to believe that his note of introduction 
 is safe, thougt he has nervously ascertained that fact 
 by taking it ten times from the pocket of his waistcoat, 
 and he is still in that sort of flurry of spirits which 
 such stirring events generally produce upon young and 
 sanguine minds when the sudden pull up of the car- 
 riage, which jerks him to the end of the seat, announces
 
 HOME IS HOME. 183 
 
 that he has arrived at his destination, the driver de- 
 scends from his box, and running or rather wadling up 
 the steps gives a thundering knock at the door and 
 pulls the bell as if some mesmerist had just put his 
 organ of destructiveness in full operation. Charles tried 
 in vain to make him come back and open the door of the 
 cab for him that he might retrieve this awkward mistake, 
 for he had been expressly advised by his father to walk 
 the latter part of his little journey, and quietly to 
 announce his arrival at the house ; however it was too 
 late to recollect all this, for there stands the cabman 
 quite satisfied that " all is right," and it was not till the 
 door was opened by the porter that he returned to 
 release his 1 prisoner. Charles bounded up the steps, 
 and, to his enquiry " whether Sir Archibald was at 
 home," received a more civil reply, that he was, than he 
 could under the circumstances have expected. A tall 
 and well-powdered lacquey led the way through a hall of 
 unusual dimensions and along a suite of rooms of almost 
 Eastern magnificence and then throwing open the last 
 door of the suite, which opened into an elegant morning 
 room, he announced " Mr. Charles Sinclair," but on 
 seeing that the only occupant of the room was a young 
 man of about seven or eight and twenty he said, " Can 
 you tell me, sir, where to find Sir Archibald?" and 
 was answered that he was gone to his dressing-room, 
 upon which the man withdrew and silently closed the 
 door when Charles found himself alone with the stranger, 
 who immediately rising and laying aside the book with 
 which he had previously been occupied walked towards 
 Charles, and meeting his half bashful look with an an- 
 swering ne of kind and gentlemanly sympathy offered
 
 184 HOME IS HOME 
 
 him a seat, and taking one himself near, him entered 
 into conversation with that air of frank good humor 
 which belongs exclusively to a really well-bred man, 
 and before which all Charles' mauvaise honte instantly 
 vanished, and in a few minutes they were engaged in 
 a really animated conversation, in the midst of which 
 they were interrupted by the entrance of Sir Archibald 
 himself. He was rather below the middle height and 
 in no way remarkable for any particular feature ex 
 cept a pair of piercing eyes of extraordinary bright- 
 ness for a man of his age, for he was at least sixty, 
 and his complexion showed that at some period of his 
 life he must have been much exposed to the trying in- 
 fluence of a hot climate. His dress and bearing were 
 those of a perfect gentleman, and he advanced towards 
 Charles with a kind air which much relieved his em- 
 barrassment. 
 
 Sir Archibald said, " I conclude I am now address- 
 ing the young friend of Sir Edmund Beauchamp ?" to 
 which Charles, with an assenting bow, replied, " I am in- 
 debted to the kindness of Sir Edmund for an introduc- 
 tion to you, Sir Archibald, but T am sorry to say I am 
 as yet personally unknown to him." and taking the 
 treasured note from his waistcoat pocket, and saying, 
 " This, I believe, will explain my circumstances better 
 than I can myself," he placed it in the hands of his 
 patron ; while he was engaged in reading its contents, 
 Charles stole an observing glance at his younger com- 
 panion: on the arrival of Sir Archibald, Charles had 
 placed himself with his back to the window, and as the 
 young man sat immediately opposite to him on the other 
 side of the table, which, covered with books and news-
 
 HOME IS HOME. 185 
 
 papers, occupied the space between them, the light fell 
 full upon his face, and Charles thought he had never 
 seen a more classical or beautiful head and bust : his 
 dark hair curled in graceful waves upon his brow, and 
 his soft yet brilliant black eyes seemed beaming witJj 
 every bright intelligence and virtue ; his complexion 
 wa^ rather dark, but by no means sallow, and his well- 
 formed mouth was expressive of the kindest feeling, 
 while an ever-varying expression betrayed every emo 
 tion of his mind ; he sat watching the countenance of 
 Sir Archibald and seemed much interested in trying to 
 read his thoughts as he perused the note which Charles 
 had brought, and was evidently not at all aware of the 
 impression he had made on the mind of the young vi- 
 sitor. As soon as Sir Archibald had finished reading 
 he placed the note on the table by his side, and resting 
 one finger on it he turned to Charles and said, with a 
 slightly changed manner and the quick tone in which 
 he always spoke, " So young gentleman, your sister is 
 Lady Beauchamp's governess I find, and Sir Edmund 
 tells me that the interest which they felt in her induced 
 the application to me for your appointment to some lu- 
 crative and honorable situation, but that you are at 
 present a stranger to him." 
 
 Poor Charles ! his alarm was very great, but he sum- 
 moned courage and tried to speak with becoming mo- 
 desty, yet with firmness, while he said, " This is quite 
 true, Sir Archibald, and it was not till two hours ago I 
 learnt that Sir Edmund had so kindly, so benevolently 
 interested himself for me ; I am indeed truly grateful 
 to him, not only for the kindness which he has shown 
 me, but for hie consi leration for my dear sister."
 
 186 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 " Very well, very well, I like that, young sir, and I 
 doubt not I shall find reason to be quite satisfied with 
 all that he has done, but before I give you your creden- 
 tials for entering on your new office, I am desirous to 
 know a little more of my protege ; will you then, if not 
 unpleasant to you, tell me something of your present 
 circumstances, for it appears that your sister must be 
 somewhat out of her proper sphere. Don't go, 
 Carleton/' he said, as he saw the young man rise with 
 the apparent intention of leaving the room, " Don't 
 go away, unless Mr. Charles wishes to be alone with 
 me." 
 
 " no, not at all, I beg you will not move ; my 
 story yj&i least so much of it as relates to myself and 
 my sister, is no secret ; my father is an officer, and my 
 mother was of a good family in Ireland, and wo have 
 until the last six months been living in affluence : pe- 
 cuniary losses have changed our circumstances, and iny 
 dear good sister has considered it a duty to seek some 
 means of assisting her family, and in Lady Beauchamp 
 she has found a most kind and considerate patroness ; 
 she is, as you say, Sir Archibald, the governess to Sir 
 Edmund's children, at present" he murmured in a low 
 tone, which was not lost upon either of his hearers. 
 
 " I thank you, sir," said Sir Archibald, " for your 
 candor and openness, and I feel much interested in 
 your account, which you have given in a manly, 
 straightforward manner, and I shall no longer keep 
 you in any anxiety as to my intentions, but shall, with 
 great pleasure, give you your introduction to the office 
 which has been promised to you through Sir Edmund." 
 
 Charles hastily rose, and bowing, said, " Allow me
 
 HOME IS HOME. 18? 
 
 to thank you, Sir Archibald, most sincerely for your 
 kind consideration, which, I can assure you, has excited 
 in me more gratitude than I can find words to express." 
 
 " Sit down, my dear sir, sit down, you and I must 
 become better acquainted, and I must now do, what I 
 have been remiss in omitting, and introduce you to 
 Mr. Carleton, who is very soon going to pay a visit to 
 Sir Edmund Beauchamp, and as I have a paper to 
 prepare for you, I will leave you with him till I 
 return." 
 
 So saying, Sir Archibald left the room, and Mr. 
 Carleton and Charles resumed a nearer position to 
 each other, and again entered into conversation, in ihe 
 course of which, Charles learnt that his new acquaint- 
 ance had just returned from the continent, where he 
 had been travelling for the last year, and also, that he 
 intended going to Granby Hall, in a few days, and he 
 kindly said, " And pray remember that I shall have 
 great pleasure in taking anything for your sister that 
 you may like to entrust to my care." Charles, with 
 some hesitation, admitted that he wished much to send 
 a little book which Kate had greatly valued, and it was 
 agreed that it should be sent to Mr. Carleton, on the 
 following day. In a few more moments, Sir Archibald 
 returned, and giving Charles his letter of appointment, 
 and another paper containing some instructions, he re- 
 ceived his parting bow, and Mr. Carleton kindly follow- 
 ing him to the door of the room, shook hands with him 
 and telling him not to forget to send " the little book," 
 they parted, and Charles with a light heart turned his 
 steps towards home, thankful that he carried with him 
 the conviction that he had not left an unfavorable im
 
 188 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 pression on the mind of his patron, and feeling all the 
 warmth of a young and ardent boy excited in his heart 
 towards the charming young man who had been so very 
 kind in his manner to him. 
 
 As soon as he reached home he related all that had 
 occurred to his father and mother, who both listened to 
 his account with the deepest interest and pleasure, and 
 after a great deal of discussion of various plans, it 
 was settled that a small lodging for Charles should im- 
 mediately be secured in the vicinity of the office in 
 which his attendance would be required. In the few 
 days which intervened before Charles entered on his 
 new duties, he endeavored to assist his father in making 
 arrangements for the sale of some more of his draw- 
 ings ; the first two that had been so advantageously 
 sold had been sent to Mr. Dalton, and he had verj 
 soon found a good purchaser in the eccentric Mr. Cros- 
 by, but as he had particularly requested that his name 
 might not transpire in the affair, it was still unknown 
 to Mr. Sinclair, and it was now proposed that Mr. 
 Dalton should be asked whether he thought he could 
 dispose of any more ; for this purpose Charles himself 
 proceeded to Mr. Dalton's shop, and finding him alone 
 he asked him if he could receive and take charge of the 
 drawings in question, when to his great surprise he was 
 told that as many as Mr. Sinclair could find leisure to 
 complete would be gladly purchased by the gentleman 
 who had taken the first pair. While Charles was in 
 the shop, his sister's little dog came to recognize and 
 caress him, and while he was fondling it, he saw ap- 
 proaching from the opposite side of the street, the 
 elderly gentleman who had travelled with him in the
 
 HOME IS HOME. 189 
 
 omnibus the evening he came from the Hunters, and 
 in another moment Mr. Crosby entered the shop ; on 
 seeing Charles, he was evidently inclined to make 
 good his retreat, but as he could not find an excuse for 
 such a change of purpose, he advanced towards him and 
 said, " Are you come to reclaim that little dog. hey ? 
 I hope not, foolish things those Italian greyhounds, 
 very foolish things." 
 
 Charles could scarcely repress a smile, but said in 
 his usual straightforward manner, "No, sir, I am not 
 come to fetch poor Fido, I wish I was." 
 
 " Wish you were, why? what can you want of such 
 a useless little animal, no good to anybody, what would 
 you do with it if you had it, eh ?" 
 
 " Oh, I should like to keep it for my sister's sake if 
 I could?" 
 
 " Your sister's sake ! what has happened to your 
 sister, where is she ?" 
 
 Mr. Crosby's tone was now so changed that no one 
 could have believed it proceeded from the same person 
 as he who in gruff accents had first accosted Charles, 
 and it was evident that be believed some sad event had 
 occurred since he had last heard of Miss Sinclair, but 
 Charles soon told him of his sister's absence and its 
 cause, and then seeing that his attention was kindly 
 awakened, he informed him with all the ingenuous 
 warmth of his character, that ho was just going himself 
 " into the Secretary of State's office," upon which piece 
 of good fortune, Mr. Crosby contrived to congratulate 
 him with some show of civility, but he hastily departed, 
 leaving Charles wondering and amazed at his strange 
 manner, for he scowled as he went away as if ashamed
 
 190 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 of having been betrayed into an ordinary politeness. 
 When he was gone, Mr. Dalton said, " That's a strange 
 character, sir, he is always trying to induce the belief 
 that he is a hard, morose man, while in reality his 
 heart is overflowing with the milk of human kindness, 
 and he does more benevolent acts than any one I ever 
 met with." 
 
 Charles said that he did appear a " strange com- 
 pound" and that, little as he had seen of him, he had 
 discerned that his cross manner was evidently foreign 
 to his nature. Charles staid a few moments to play 
 with Fido, and said, " Oh, my poor little fellow, you 
 have found a nice comfortable home, but I hope some 
 day you will follow your dear pretty young mistress 
 again," upon which Mr. Dalton said that he " Hoped 
 Miss Sinclair was well, and that he should indeed soon 
 have the pleasure of restoring little Fido to his owner, 
 but that they should all be sorry to part from him." 
 
 On his way home Charles met the Hunters' gay car- 
 riage ; Mrs. Hunter and Flora were in it, and Spencer 
 was on" the box with the coachman, but he did not ap- 
 pear to recognize Charles, and all the party seemed 
 equally disposed to forget him, except Flora, who nod- 
 ded kindly as she passed, and looked very bright and 
 very pretty. It was but a glance that he had of her, 
 and he sighed as he thought of the wordly character of 
 her parents, and felt that the bar of pride was placed 
 between him and his former favorite playfellow, as in 
 his mind he still 3 23ignated Flora.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE day after Lady Beauchamp had despatched her 
 letter to the Miss Waldegraves, when Kate went to 
 take her place by the couch of little Alice, and to re- 
 lease her poor nurse for a short time from her close 
 and unceasing attendance upon her, she found the little 
 girl so much better and stronger than usual, that she 
 called her sisters to come and assist in amusing her, 
 and allowed them to converse more freely than they 
 generally did. This was, to Alice, a great pleasure, and 
 she became quite animated aad happy, till after some 
 time Henrietta said, " Ally, we. are gping to have some 
 visitors, guess who they are." 
 
 " No, Etta, you know I hate guessing," said Alice, 
 " so now tell me at once; come now, I declare it's very 
 teazing of you." 
 
 "Well," Etta said, "you need not be so pettish, 
 dear Alice, and now I do not think I will tell you at 
 all." 
 
 Kate turned on Henrietta a reproachful glance, 
 which instantly recalled the little girl to a sense of 
 the unkind tone in which she had spoken to her little 
 feeble sister, and stooping down she kissed her little 
 wan cheek, and whispered that she hoped she had not 
 teazed her.
 
 192 HOME IS H O M K . 
 
 " no, dear, not at all, but now do tell me who are 
 the visitors of whom you spoke ?" 
 
 " Well then, Ally, what think you of our cousins 
 Isabel and Julia having been invited again, but I am 
 not sure they will really come." 
 
 " Oh, Etta," said Alice, and she began to cry, " I 
 im so very much disappointed, I really did hope some 
 nice little girls were coming, and now I hear only that 
 those two proud disagreeable cousins are to come, and 
 nurse will be so vexed, for she says they treat her so 
 very unkindly when they are here, and so differently 
 from the way in which dear mamma and Kate do, that 
 she dislikes them very much, indeed." 
 
 " Well, but Ally dear," said little Gertrude, " per- 
 haps they may be improved, for you know we used to 
 be proud sometimes, till mamma, and dear Miss Sin- 
 clair, taught us that it was sinful." 
 
 " No ! Gertrude," passionately exclaimed Alice, 
 " they are much too old to be taught now, even by dear 
 Kate, and I am sure I shall hate them." 
 
 " My dear little girl," said Kate, " you must not 
 hate any one, and you know if we really think people 
 act sinfully, we should be sorry for them, and pray 
 that they may be forgiven." 
 
 " Well then, my own dear sweet Kate," said Alice, 
 '.' 1 never will hate even my cousins unless they are 
 proud and 'unkind to you" 
 
 This little conversation excited in Kate some anx- 
 iety as to the arrival of the Miss Waldegraves, and she 
 could not help fearing that she should not be so happy 
 and comfortable as she had hitherto been, and when 
 Lady Beauchamp announced that her invitation had
 
 HOME IS HOME. 193 
 
 been accepted and that she expected them the next day 
 Kate thought that she would for a few days seclude 
 herself as much as possible in her own apartments. 
 Mr. Carleton's answer to Sir Edmund had not yet ar- 
 rived, and the subject of his expected visit not having 
 been mentioned no one in the house knew that they had 
 been invited. 
 
 The following day Kate and the two little girls were 
 standing in the hall prepared for their daily walk when 
 the sudden sound of a carriage, followed by a ring of the 
 bell, announced the arrival of visitors. In a moment 
 the door was opened and two fashionably-dressed girls, 
 followed by a smart lady's maid carrying cloaks and 
 shawls/ entered the hall. 
 
 " Oh, dear, Miss Sinclair," Henrietta said, " here are 
 our cousins, I did not think they could have been here 
 so soon ;" and both the children went forward to meet 
 them. 
 
 " Well, my dear little girls," Isabella began, " how 
 are you and how is my aunt ? dear me, how wonderfully 
 you are grown ! I declare, Henrietta, you will soon be 
 as tall as Julia ;" and stooping down she kissed them 
 both. " Well, and where is my aunt ? Oh, in the 
 library, is she ? come then, let us go and find her ;" 
 then raising her glass, and speaking in an under tone, 
 she said, " Who's that, Etta 1 any one I know ? I am 
 so shockingly blind I do not know any one." 
 
 " No, no, Isabel, I am sure you do not know her, so 
 come ;" but seeing that the child earnestly wished to 
 divert their attention the sisters chose to look round 
 the hall, each requiring the aid of an eyeglass, and con- 
 triving to inslude Kate in the general survey in a man- 
 9
 
 194 HOME i.S HOME. 
 
 ner which evidently called the color to her cheek, and 
 then drawing themselves up and folding their shawls 
 gracefully round their really fine figures, they proceeded 
 towards the door of the library followed by Henrietta, 
 who was old enough to understand and blush for thei- 
 haughty bearing and impertinent manner. 
 
 From Lady Beauchamp they received a cordial and 
 kind greeting, for she had always been much attached to 
 these girls for her sister's sake, and though she saw and 
 pitied their numerous faults she thought time would 
 improve them, and she felt a kind desire to place in 
 their way any advantage which she had it in her power 
 to bestow. In her heart she really hoped that their 
 rich young friend Mr. Carleton might take a fancy to 
 Isabel, who was a fine showy girl of about nineteen 
 Julia was still very young and had only just left school. 
 but from her sister she had already learnt and adopted 
 a supercilious manner which induced their dependants 
 to give them the soubriquet of " the haughty sisters." 
 
 Lady Beauchamp had risen from her seat, near her 
 writing-table, when her nieces and ^Henrietta came in, 
 and she now walked towards the window, followed by 
 the girls. Here they all stood, talking a few moments 
 on the fineness of the day and other general topics, 
 but Isabel's curiosity had been much excited by Kate's 
 sweet countenance and appearance, and she longed to 
 know whether she was a visitor in the house, so turn- 
 ing suddenly to her little cousin, she said. " Eh bien 
 ma petite Henriette, and who is your new friend that I 
 saw with you in the hall ?" 
 
 " Oh." said Lady Beauchamp, " I conclude it waa 
 Miss Sinclair, was it not, Henrietta?"
 
 HOME IS HOME. 195 
 
 " Yes, mamma, and I fear she is waiting for me. as 
 we are just going to take a walk, so, if you if please, I 
 will go now and join her. Good bye ;" and nodding 
 to her cousins, she withdrew. 
 
 " Is that your new governess, auntie ?" said Julia, 
 
 " Yes, my dear," said Lady Beauchamp, " and a de- 
 lightful person she is, I assure you." 
 
 " Ah yes I dare say," drawled Isabel, " a nice- 
 looking young person ; I thought indeed, I almost 
 took her for a young lady, did not you, Julia ?" 
 
 " Why, yes, I think I did at first but every body 
 dresses so much above their station, that really it is dif- 
 ficult to decide "who are people of consequence in these 
 clays." 
 
 With complacent looks she readjusted her shawl, 
 giving it as fashionable an air as she could ; her aunt 
 smiled at her folly, and was half inclined to defend her 
 favorite, but she thought she might, perhaps, induce a 
 feeling of prejudice in the minds of her nieces, if .she 
 appeared too much interested in Kate, she. therefore, 
 let it pass, and in another moment Isabel said, " Well, 
 but dearest aunt, you have not told us what was the 
 great secret at which you hinted in your letter, and I 
 assure you it excited* my curiosity so greatly, that I 
 made Neville stay up all night to prepare our dresses 
 and things that we might come by the express train this 
 morning, so now, pray tell us, who is coming, for I am 
 sure it must be some delightful person." 
 
 " No, no," said Lady Beauchamp, " I shall not tell 
 you one word more at present, indeed, I fear you will 
 be disappointed, for I know, at all events, we shall see 
 no one to-day *
 
 196 HOME IS HOME 
 
 ' ; Oh. now. do not tautal'ze us. dear auniic, pray tell 
 us, for I am dying with curiosity." 
 
 "Well, I fear you will think me very cruel," said 
 Lady Beauchamp, " but I shall only say you must wait 
 a little while ere I shall disclose my grand secret, as 
 you call it ; but come, you will like to go to your rooms 
 and rest a little ;" and she led the way to the sleeping 
 apartments. 
 
 Kate's first meeting with the Miss Waldegraves had 
 not tended to remove the impression which, from the 
 children's report of them, she had been induced to 
 form, and during her short walk, she determined to 
 withdraw herself as much as possible from collision 
 with these young ladies, but on her return she found 
 a little note on her dressing-table from Lady Beau- 
 champ, in which she said, " My dear Miss Sinclair, you 
 will, I hope, join us as usual in the drawing-room this 
 evening, as although you have declined doing so when 
 we have a party of friends, I am really desirous that 
 you should meet my nieces. Ever yours, G. L. Beau- 
 champ." 
 
 The note was twisted and curled into a variety of 
 shapes, while Kate stood looking out upon the lawn 
 from her window. No, thought,, she, I will not, I can- 
 not expose myself to the supercilious surveillance of 
 these visitors ; and she recalled, with a painful 
 feeling, the glances which she had met in the morning, 
 from which she had shrunk with a sense of humiliation 
 but am I right to foster these feelings, which must 
 proceed from that pride which is, alas ! my besetting 
 8in r and then Lady Beauchamp and kind Sir Edmund,
 
 HOME IS HOME. 197 
 
 will they permit me to be treated with hauteur in their 
 presence? oh no, I am sure they will not. 
 
 In this way Kate mused till the declining sun 
 warned her that time was passing, and that she must 
 come to a decision. This was the first ordeal her pride 
 had undergone, for as Lady Beauchamp had said, she had 
 ever declined appearing when any strangers were pre- 
 sent, and she had been treated with such kind consi- 
 deration by Sir Edmund and his lady, that no ono had 
 ever ventured to show any mark of disrespect. At 
 length the little struggle ended, and she decided that 
 as Lady Beauchamp had so kindly proposed it, she would 
 no longer hesitate but do her best to restrain any feel- 
 ing of vexation 'which might be aroused by the conduct 
 of the Miss Waldegraves. 
 
 At the hour when she usually made her appearance 
 in the drawing-room, she joined the party assembled 
 there. Her dress on this evening was a very simple 
 white muslin, closed at the throat, with pale blue 
 ribbons, and confined at the waist by a sash of the same 
 color, but the clear transparent fol^s only partially 
 concealed the dazzlingly white neck and throat which 
 they covered ; ornaments she had none, except a very 
 small Maltese chain of gold and bracelets to correspond ; 
 her hands, which were most delicately formed, were 
 uncovered, and her hair was simply and beautifully 
 arranged, and as she glided into the room, nothing 
 could exceed the ladylike and aristocratic elegance of 
 her appearance. 
 
 Sir Edmund was standing with a music-book in his 
 hand, as if engaged in finding some song for one of his 
 nieces, who both stood near him, and Lady Beauchamp
 
 198 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 was seated at the harp. As Kate approached the group, 
 Sir Edmund said, " Oh, Miss Sinclair, I am so glad you 
 are come ; Isabel, Julia, allow me to introduce you 
 to Miss Sinclair." ^ 
 
 Both young ladies drew themselves to their full 
 height and bestowed, as Kate thought, a slighting curt- 
 sey with a sort of half- muttered word or two, but of 
 what import did not appear, and having so far compro- 
 mised their dignity, they set their flounced dresses in 
 full swing and turned their backs upon poor Kate this, 
 however, might be only intended to display to her won- 
 dering paze the extent of the beautiful shoulders which 
 their f? ohionable dresses developed and then, with the 
 aid of their glasses they pretended to be looking over 
 some prints which were placed upon the table. Despite 
 all Kate's good resolutions this manner, so new to her, 
 so different from anything which had ever before been 
 shown towards her, completely unnerved her, and she 
 felt so constrained, "so awkwardly bashful, that she 
 scarcely knew what course to pursue, and to increase 
 her confusion, the Miss "Waldegraves, with well-assumed 
 liveliness and affectionate interest, approached their 
 u dear Aunt," and standing in front of her harp talked 
 in a most animated manner to her upon subjects which 
 entirely excluded Kate from even a chance of joining 
 in the conversation. Sir Edmund saw and pitied his 
 young favorite's unpleasant reception, and by talking 
 kindly to her sought to obviate its painful effects, but 
 Kate felt that she was de trap, and experienced all the 
 shrinking timidity which such conduct always brings 
 upon a young and sensitive mind. Music was now pro- 
 posed, and the Miss "Waldegraves monopolized the in-
 
 HOME IS HOME. 199 
 
 strament which seemed t: quail under the infliction, and 
 Sir Edmund winced at the thundering blows which it 
 received, while Lady Beauchamp applauded and told 
 Isabel that she had acquired a very effective style 
 since she last heard her play, " but," she added, " I shall 
 not let you be idle this evening, Miss Sinclair ; come 
 pray find some of our favorite airs, and T will accom- 
 pany you." 
 
 Kate blushed, and felt angry with herself for blush- 
 ing, but she resolved to try to play as usual, and took 
 her seat ; but as it was " only the governess," the Miss 
 Waldegraves seated themselves at the table and busied 
 themselves with a novel, consequently a thick sea fog 
 seemed to envelope poor Kate she felt that she could 
 not play to such unwilling hearers, and never had she 
 appeared to so much disadvantage ; apparently, how- 
 ever, this was of small importance, as Isabel and her 
 sister affected to be engrossed in their amusing book, 
 and took no sort of notice of any one. All this evidently 
 occasioned great annoyance to Sir Edmund, who kindly 
 tried to reassure Kate, and to encourage her in her per- 
 formance ; but she felt that it was weak and ineffective, 
 and she very soon left the instrument and tried to oc- 
 cupy herself with her embroidery. The chimes in the 
 hall soon after gave notice that this painful evening was 
 at an end, and after prayers the young ladies gave Kate 
 a parting bow, which spoke as clearly as words could 
 have expressed it, "We do not intend to become at all 
 intimate with a governess." 
 
 Poor Kate, I fear I must confess, poor Kate felt all 
 this more, ay much more, than she would have done a 
 real mi fortune : stung to the quick bj the pride and
 
 200 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 arrogance of girls, who, but for untoward events, would 
 have been in all respects her inferiors, she felt indig- 
 nant at having so tamely submitted to their imperti- 
 nence ; but after a close examination of her own heart 
 and feelings, she wept tears of self-reproach and blamed 
 in herself the pride which had thus barbed the arrow 
 from which she might otherwise have escaped un- 
 scathed. " Yes, it is pride," she said, "and I must, 
 set myself earnestly to subdue its power ;" and she 
 sought in prayer the assistance she required for the 
 conflict. 
 
 Meanwhile Isabel and Julia had been holding a 
 long conference in the next room, unchecked by the 
 presence of their lady's maid Neville, who pretended to 
 be very busy in arranging their drawers. " Well, Julia, 
 what do you think of this smart governess ? I for my 
 part am quite astonished at the sort of footing she has 
 gained in this house, and I am quite determined that 1 
 will not so lose a sense of my own position in society as 
 to become a companion of a governess." 
 
 " Well done, Isabel," said Julia, " I commend your 
 spirit and amour proprc, and I shall certainly follow 
 your' example : for my part, I always detest governesses, 
 they always seem to expect you to respect their feelings 
 as they call them ; I wonder what such people have to 
 do with feelings, and if they have any, why, they are 
 well paid to get rid of them as fast as they can : in 
 short I think they ought to keep entirely to the chil- 
 dren's apartments and not intrude themselves into the 
 society of ladies." 
 
 " And how ridiculous," said Isabel, " my uncle and 
 aunt are to talk of her musical talents ; I would not
 
 HOME IS HOME. 201 
 
 trust her to teach my kitten to mew ; if she did, I fear 
 poor pussy would find it difficult to make herself 
 heard." 
 
 " I wonder," said Julia, " whether she goes down to 
 dine when they have visitors; do you know, Neville?" 
 
 " Oh no, miss, I hear she has never been down to 
 company till this evening." 
 
 " What a shame !" exclaimed both the girls at once, 
 " What an abominable thing ! so we arc the favored 
 ones." 
 
 " I am sure," said Isabel, " we are greatly indebted 
 to my uncle for the honor of the introduction, but I 
 shall soon show him that Isabel Waldegrave is not to 
 be trifled with ;" and the young beauty drew herself up, 
 and with stately majesty surveyed herself in the glass 
 in which her really elegant figure was reflected. 
 
 " I am sure, miss," said Neville, " you have no rea- 
 son to fear any comparisons being made between either 
 you or Miss Julia with this low-born girl." 
 
 " No ! is she low-born ? well, I am a little surprised 
 at that ; but how did you hear it, Neville ?" 
 
 " 0, Miss Isabel, governesses and such people must, 
 you know, be very inferior, and Bennet tells me that 
 she can dress herself without much assistance, and law 
 bless me, miss, that's proof enough for me that she's 
 never been no great things ; I don't want to know 
 another hindividgal circumstance of her bringing up." 
 
 " Well, Neville, you are a clever creature to be sure ; 
 it is, as you say, quite convincing, for I never- met with 
 any one in real high life who could do a- single thing 
 of the sort ; Julia ! what can you be doing ? I de- 
 clare unfastening your own sash ! When shall I teach
 
 202 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 you the propriety of giving yourself up, as Miss De 
 Saintrille would say, to the hands of your attendant ?" 
 Julia looked quite shocked, and retired to her own 
 apartment a little ashamed and very indignant at her 
 sister's remonstrance.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 APRIL, with its evanescent smiles and tearful showers, 
 has passed away and ushered in the queen of all the 
 spring, " May," with its sunny days and pearl-like flow- 
 ers bespangling every hawthorn, as though the showers 
 of April had left their tears congealed upon each leafy 
 spray. The day after Kate's introduction to the Miss 
 Waldegraves the weather became so hot and almost 
 summer-like that she resolved to delay her walk with 
 the children till later in the day than their usual hour 
 for recreation. 
 
 There was at no great distance from the house a 
 sort of hollow, or dell, surrounded by oaks and other 
 trees, the gnarled roots of which in places formed a sort 
 of roofed shelteY to the bank beneath, which, covered 
 with moss and wild flowers, formed a delightful shaded 
 resting-place, and to this spot Sir Edmund had caused 
 a gradually sloping path to be constructed in order that 
 the couch-like carriage of the little Alice might convey 
 her there without fatigue : the mossy carpet of this 
 lovely dell was now thickly strewn with the pale blue 
 flowers of the wild hyacinth, and the white star-like 
 blossoms of the wood anemone peeped forth from every 
 grassy tuft. It was to this place that Kate had just 
 brought the children, and in a few moments the little
 
 204 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 invalid arrived escorted by nurse, and with John draw 
 ing her little carriage. 
 
 ' As she approached, her eyes sparkled with delight; 
 evincing the happiness in being able once more to visit 
 her own favorite spot, and here for some time the little 
 party amuse themselves with gathering flowers and 
 twining them into garlands and wreaths with which 
 to ornament the little carriage, and form a crown tc 
 place on the fair curling hair of the little Gertrude whom 
 Alice calls her sweet " Queen of the May,' ; and Kate 
 sits on the mossy bank under the trees, with a book in 
 her hand, though she is evidently much disturbed by 
 the frequent demands which the children make on 
 her attention. "Dear Kate," Alice says, "do come, 
 I am sure you will hang my garlands quite beautifully." 
 ' : Can you find a little bit of string ?" Henrietta asks, 
 and Kate from her basket produces the desired trea- 
 sure, and then again she tries to pursue the beautiful 
 story which engrosses her thoughts and attention. A 
 long time they sit, enjoying this first of summer, 
 days, and now all are silent, the wreaths are finished, 
 and Gertrude is looking quite lovely as on a mossy bank 
 they place her, and Kate hails her as the "Fairy 
 Queen Titania." At this moment, a rustling above 
 their heads alarms them, and presently a beautiful 
 spaniel comes bounding down the bank, and he is 
 almost instantly followed by a young and handsome 
 man, who exclaims, " Oh, my little darlings, I thought 
 I should find you here !" and Gertrude, all unmind- 
 ful of her queenlike dignity, jumps into his arms, and 
 says, " Oh, it's my own dear, dear Carlty ! where have 
 you been so long from your little wife?"
 
 HOME IS HOME. 205 
 
 After a few moments of delight and happiness, the 
 children recollected that they had not mentioned to 
 Miss Sinclair, the name of their newly-arrived favor- 
 ite, and on looking round, they perceived that she had 
 quietly withdrawn to the other side of the little" dell ; 
 so, seizing Mr. Carleton's hand, they said, " Oh, do 
 come and see our dear new governess," and with gentle 
 violence they lead him towards her. 
 
 It was an awkward moment for Kate, but Mr. 
 Carleton advanced and raising his hat, said, " I fear, 
 Miss Sinclair, I must apologize for intruding myself in 
 this way upon your notice, but I was quite longing to 
 see all my little favorites, and learning from the serv- 
 ants that they were here I followed them, wishing 
 much to see ^whether I should be remembered ; but I 
 hope I shall be considered less a stranger to you when 
 I tell you that I had the pleasure of seeing your bro- 
 ther, Mr. Charles Sinclair, at Sir Archibald Munroe's 
 the other morning, and he has entrusted a little volume 
 of yours to my care, w y hich I hope will be found safe 
 when my baggage arrives." 
 
 Kate smiled and thanked him with a guileless art- 
 lessness that quite charmed him, and they were all 
 very soon on the best possible terms. Carleton had 
 no silly pride to contend with, he thought Kate a 
 lovely girl and was pleased with her open unsophisti- 
 cated mannei', and for some time he remained talking 
 with her, and caressing the children, who were all 
 greatly charmed at the surprise his unexpected ap- 
 pearance had occasioned. Presently nurse arrived to 
 take home little Alice, and the rest of the party slowly 
 followed.
 
 206 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 At- the door they met Lady Beauchamp and the 
 Miss Waldegraves. Isabel, on seeing Mr. Carleton. 
 held out her hand with most engaging warmth, and 
 said, " Is it possible ! Mr. Carleton ! why, we thought 
 you were in Germany 1" 
 
 Carleton explained that he had arrived at Granby 
 about an hour before, and that after sitting a few min- 
 utes with Sir Edmund and Lady Beauchamp, he had 
 gone in search of his dear little friends whom he had 
 found in " The Fairy Dell, as in days of yore we used, 
 you know, to designate my favorite spot." 
 
 " yes," said Isabel, " I well remember ;" and she 
 got up a very sentimental expression .of countenance, 
 which was, however, lost on Carleton, as he had turned 
 to look for Kate and the children, and felt much cha- 
 grined at perceiving that she had quietly withdrawn 
 from the party, and, as he felt convinced was the case, 
 quite unnoticed by the Miss Waldegraves. Lady 
 Beauchamp had also disappeared, and was in truth 
 gone into the house with Kate, to soften, if possible, 
 the effects of her niece's ill-breeding towards her. 
 Carleton had small inclination for a flirtation with 
 Miss Isabel, and to relieve his embarrassment, he said, 
 " Will you not introduce me to your sister, Miss 
 Waldegrave ?" 
 
 " 0, to be sure, certainly ; Julia, this is my old 
 friend, Mr. Carleton, of whom you have heard me 
 speak." 
 
 The young lady curtsied, and Carleton gracefully 
 bowed, but he thought to himself, " Old friend, indeed I 
 just the same forward girl as ever, I see, and what a 
 contrast to that sweet quiet modest creature I saw just
 
 HOME IS HOME. 207 
 
 now. Well, well, I am not to be entrapped, Miss Isa- 
 bel, and I shall take care to keep aloof from your arts 
 as much as possible." He then entered into conversa- 
 tion for a few moments with the sisters, and in its 
 progress contrived gradually to approach the door of 
 the hall, when, seeing that he must make some excuse 
 for leaving them, he said, " I believe I must find my 
 man, for I have some parcels for Lady Beauchamp," 
 and slightly bowing, he hastily retreated into the 
 house. 
 
 Three or four days now passed without giving rise 
 to any incident worthy of observation. Kate occasion- 
 ally met Mr. Carleton and the young ladies, but she 
 had been so much annoyed by the hauteur of the latter 
 that she gladly availed herself of any excuse for re- 
 maining with the children : already, too, she read in 
 the manner of Bennet that she was less respected and 
 considered than she had been before the arrival of the 
 pert lady's maid, and the children told her that Bennet 
 had spoken of her in a very unpleasant manner to 
 them, but that they had threatened to " tell mamma if 
 she was so impertinent." All this was very trying to 
 poor Kate, but she steadily pursued her prescribed 
 course, and sought in every way to drive away the 
 feelings of wounded pride which now so frequently as- 
 sailed her. 
 
 It might be fancy, but she even imagined that her 
 kind friend Lady Beauchamp was not quite the same 
 in manner ; at all events, she now saw her much less 
 frequently, although she admitted that was her own 
 fault in a great degree, and she determined to exert her- 
 self once more to join the musical party in the evening
 
 208 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 if she should be requested to do so. She had scarcely 
 arrived at this conclusion when Lady Beauchamp her- 
 self came into her little room, and said, " Come, my dear 
 Miss Sinclair, I really cannot allow you to seclude your- 
 self any longer ; I do hope you will coiae to us this 
 evening, and lend us a little aid in our musical arrange- 
 ments. Mr. Carleton is a devoted lover of music, and 
 I am sure you will be quite charmed with his exquisite 
 voice and delightful taste, so now let me see you ; no. 
 no, I can hear of no excuses," and nodding goodhumored 
 ly left the room, giving Kate no time to express any dis- 
 inclination to comply with her request. And in truth 
 Kate had no intention to refuse, though she dreaded 
 meeting the Miss Waldegraves, " Still," as she thought, 
 " I have resolved to overcome my pride of heart, and I 
 ought not to omit any opportunity of doing so." 
 
 The evening passed much more agreeably than Kate 
 had anticipated : the Miss Waldegraves certainly did not 
 at all lay aside their condescending impertinence of man- 
 ner towards her, but it had lost much of its power now 
 that she had taught herself to consider it in its true 
 light, and supported by the kind attention of Sir Edmund 
 and Lady Beauchamp she ventured to approach the 
 instrument with more self-possession than she had 
 thought possible. She played with exquisite taste and 
 feeling and in her own peculiarly graceful manner. 
 
 When she ceased playing Mr. Carleton, who had 
 evidently listened with the greatest interest and pleasure, 
 said, " That was indeed quite charming, but I hope you 
 sing too, Miss Sinclair ; Oh, I am sure you must." 
 
 " Yes," said Kate, " I sing a little ;" and Lady 
 Beauchamp, vho was sitting near them, said, " Oh
 
 HOME IS HOME. 209 
 
 wiL 'you sing that sweet little May song which I ad- 
 mired so much the other evening." 
 
 Kate immediately took her seat at the instrument 
 and sang from memory the pretty little song of " May- 
 dew," in which the rich tones of her young melodious 
 voice with the graceful " dew-dropping" accompaniment 
 quite delighted her auditors, especially Mr. Carlton, 
 whose warm encomiums and bright animated loois 
 greatly chagrined and annoyed Isabel ~Waldegrave,whose 
 envious feelings were ever excited by hearing another 
 praised or admired ; struggling, however, to regain her 
 usual manner of easy self-confidence, she now approached 
 Carleton, and taking up a duet as she passed the music- 
 table said, " Oh, Mr. Carleton, I really must ask you to 
 let us have the pleasure of hearing your voice again, 
 that will indeed be delightful ; do sing this duet 
 with me." 
 
 It was Mendelssohn's " I would that my love," and 
 he had just decided on asking Kate to sing it with 
 him, but he felt that it would be rude to refuse Isabel's 
 request ; and now it was Kate's turn to listen with de- 
 lighted attention, for surely she had never heard so 
 sweet a voice ; it was a rich counter tenor, but there 
 was a peculiarity in its tones which she never re- 
 membered to have met with before, and she was quite 
 charmed, not only with his voice, but with the exquisite 
 taste and feeling he developed ; and then his manner, 
 too, so lively yet so tender and so very graceful that 
 nothing could exceed its charm. On leaving the instru- 
 ment Isabel cast a look of triumph at Kate, and swept 
 by her without addressing a word to her, and then in a 
 low tone to Julia muttered a few words, of which that
 
 210 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 of "governess" was alone audible, but that word 
 reached the ear and the heart of the sensitive Kate, 
 and she could not control the blush which betrayed 
 that it had done so. Carleton heard it too, and saw 
 and felt for poor Kate's little vexation. Kind-hearted 
 in the extreme, and much pleased with Kate's gentle 
 and polished manner, he could noi help feeling anxious 
 to relieve her embarrassment, and he immediately asked 
 her to allow him the pleasure of singing with her, in 
 so respectful and pleasing a manner that she repaid 
 him with a look of gentle thanks, and when those two 
 sweet voices were heard mingling their natural fine 
 tones it was impossible for even an Isabel Waldegrave 
 to detect aught but the most delightful harmony of 
 sounds. 
 
 After the party dispersed that evening Sir Edmund 
 returned to the dra,wing-room, when finding Lady Beau- 
 champ there alone, he said, " Really, Gertrude, the 
 manners of Isabel and Julia quite pain and grieve me ; 
 I positively cannot consent to allow any one under my 
 roof and protection to be treated with such hauteur and 
 rudeness as Miss Sinclair has been by them ever since 
 they arrived " 
 
 " I assure you," Lady Beauchamp said, " I feel 
 quite as much displeased as you do, but I have hith- 
 erto abstained from noticing their conduct, hoping 
 that they would become aware of its impropriety, and 
 really fearing I might do mischief instead of putting 
 the affair on a more pleasant footing." 
 
 " Well, well, Gertrude, I am sure with your kind 
 heart you cannot approve such conduct, and I must 
 take som) measures for putting an end' to it, and xs to
 
 HOME IS HOME. 211 
 
 Carleton I am sure he is quite disgusted at the exhi- 
 bition of such unworthy feelings." Lady Beauchamp 
 then promised to converse with her nieces the next day, 
 and try to induce them to behayg with more propriety, 
 though she secretly feared it would be no easy task. 
 
 The contaminating influence of pride had gradually 
 found its way into the hearts of many members of Sir 
 Edmund's household, and Kate felt, in the petty slights 
 which she now received, new cause each day to regret 
 the arrival of the Miss Waldegraves; still there was 
 not sufficient ground to lead to a complaint of ill-beha- 
 vior in the servants. " Trifles light as air" were to her 
 sensitive mind, proof that in some way her position in 
 the family had undergone a change. Larkins, the foot- 
 man, had always shown something of the disrespect and 
 disregard, which vulgar servants too frequently exhibit 
 towards those who are in any way occupying a situation 
 of dependence, and now this manner was much increas- 
 ed, and he would pass Kate without the slightest notice, 
 occasionally beginning to whistle long before she could 
 be out of hearing; and on one occasion when Lady 
 Beauchamp told him to tell " Miss Sinclair that the 
 carriage was at the door to take her and the children 
 for a drive," he went to the housemaid's bell, and sum- 
 moned Bonnet, saying in a loud tone which Kate over- 
 heard, " I say, Bennet, tell Miss Tinckler, or whatever 
 she's called, that the carriage is waiting, / was not en- 
 gaged by Sir Edmund to wait upon governesses." 
 
 " Well," said Bennet, " nor me neither, and I shall 
 very soon leave, I can tell them, for as Neville says, 
 ' what is she to be waited upon for, I wonder ?' " 
 
 At this moment Kate and the children descended
 
 212 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 the stairs, and passed close by the scene of dispute, but 
 her veil was drawn closely over her face, and no one 
 saw the heightened color which suffused her cheek. As 
 soon as she was gone, Rennet stole a look at Larkins, 
 and said in a low voice, " Do you think she heard us ?" 
 
 " Who cares ?" said the man, " not me for one ; I 
 hope she did, and I shall tell Mrs. Neville by-and-bye, 
 how nicely we have put down " the governess ;" but 
 Bennet remembered many little acts of kindness which 
 she had received from Miss Sinclair, and she half re- 
 pented having spoken so disrespectfully, but it was only 
 half, and day after day some new petty impertinence 
 befell poor Kate, and all these annoyances sprang from 
 the evil example of the two proud ill-educated girls, 
 who encouraged their servant to speak in their presence, 
 with impertinence and disrespect, -of one who was in 
 every way their superior, though by adverse circum- 
 stances obliged for a time to employ her talents as a 
 means of subsistence . 
 
 About a fortnight after Carleton's arrival, he told 
 Sir Edmund that he was going to Grranby, and that he 
 should walk to the village, where he might possibly 
 stay some little time with Dr. Elliott, and calling 
 <: Dash," he sallied forth, takiag the path through the 
 shrubbery, and across the meadows which were now 
 in full beauty and luxuriance. The weather was un- 
 usually hot for the time of year, and Carleton frequently 
 lifted his hat to admit air, and then would pause, to 
 watch the progress of the rapid little stream, occa- 
 sionally throwing in pieces of stick, or tufts of grass, 
 and sending " Dash" in to fetch them out, avoiding 
 his rough shake which sent a shower around him when
 
 HOME IS HOME. 213 
 
 he returned to lay his trophy at his master's feet. 
 " Good dog, Dash, good dog : in again Dash, go 
 
 fetch." 
 
 At last, tired with the heat, he laid himself down 
 upon the mossy bank, and for a long time remained 
 watching the dipping of the swallow in the water, the 
 May-fly skimming on its surface, and the thousand in- 
 sects which the hot day had brought to revel in the 
 sunshine ; while thus occupied, he thought he caught 
 the sound of voices, and he presently heard Kate's in 
 earnest conversation with some other person, and be- 
 fore he could apprise her of his presence, he heard her 
 say, " Tell him, Jane, that I cannot come now but that 
 I will come this evening at five o'clock ;" and as he 
 started on his feet to speak to her he saw a yourso; girl 
 running hastily towards the village. " What had he to 
 do with Miss Sinclair's arrangements?" he though*., and 
 " why should he feel a particular wish to know whom 
 she had thus engaged to meet ?" surely, it could in no 
 way interest him, but he did feel constrained and 
 uneasy, and when he addressed her he felt that his 
 manner was less cordial than usual ; when he first ap- 
 proached her she was alone, but in another moment, 
 Henrietta and Gertrude joined her, panting with run- 
 ning and very warm, and Kate said, " Why did you 
 follow me, my dears, I told you I should return to you 
 in a few moments, and I wished you to stay on the bank 
 where I left you." Carleton's curiosity was now quite 
 in the ascendant, still he could not ask questions, so 
 speaking a few words of affection to the children, he- 
 bowed to Miss Sinclair, and pursued his way to Granby, 
 leaving Kate a little perplexed at his change of man-
 
 214 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 ner. His piercing 'bright eyes seemed to have looked 
 her through, and as slie sauntered back to the mound 
 in the park where she had been sitting with the chil 
 dren, her mind dwelt with unaccountable interest on 
 the words and looks of the young man, but she thought 
 " Why should I dwell on the subject, surely it can 
 not be a matter of int-.n- -.~t to me" still again and agair 
 the thought of those bright eyes returned to her recol- 
 lection, causing her to start with a feeling of nervous 
 anxiety. 
 
 At five o'clock that evening Kate took her loaelj 
 walk to the village, and in half an hour she was fol- 
 lowed by Carleton who, having seen her pass through 
 the shrubbery in her pretty small straw bonnet and 
 neat walking-dress, felt assured that she was going to 
 fulfil the engagement which he had heard her make in 
 the morning ; he walked rapidly through the meadows 
 scarcely knowing why he followed her or what course 
 he intended to pursue, yet urged on by that irresistible 
 impulse to which young and ardent minds often yield 
 their better judgments ; when he reached .the stile 
 which overlooked the village-green he paused, and 
 sitting on the lowly bench, now overshadowed by the 
 hawthorn in full luxuriance of beauty, he tried to col- 
 lect his thoughts, and he felt the warm color mount to 
 his eyes as he reflected, " What excuse can I offer for 
 thus indulging my curiosity by following Miss Sinclair 
 without her knowledge ? even if I succeed in finding 
 her, which is doubtful, how foolish I have been in this 
 matter ! well I'll just go down to Dr. Elliott's again, 
 and then return, I see I must give up this foolish 
 chase ;" and he once more rapidly walked, indeed almost
 
 
 HOME IS HOME. 215 
 
 ran forward till he reached the palings of Dr. Elliott's 
 garden ; but as lie advanced more leisurely up the path 
 to the house he thought, " but this, too, is very awk- 
 ward I only left Dr. Elliott's two hours ago what 
 will he think of my sudden return, without any ade- 
 quate reason ? well, he would trust to circumstances." 
 and he knocked at the door, and in another moment 
 was ushered into the study ; here, seated at his desk, 
 writing his sermons for the next Sunday, was the good 
 Doctor, who laid down his spectacles, and holding out 
 his hand welcomed Carleton, though he evidently, ex- 
 pected to be. told some reason for his visit, but as no 
 subterfuge ever found its way to Carleton's lips, he 
 ouly looked very shy and distrait, and after sitting a 
 few mornents, once more departed and took his way 
 homewards, not however without lingering and looking 
 about for the object of his present interest. 
 
 When he was gone, Dr. Elliott sat and mused upon 
 his sudden and strange visit ; " What could have induced 
 it ? why, he scarcely spoke at all, and then he had been 
 so long with me before to-day, what could his object 
 have been ? Now, if that sweet Kate had been here I 
 should have feared he had come after her, but that 
 could not be, for she has not been here for some days ; 
 I confess, I- am quite puzzled but this is a sad hin- 
 drance and my sermon will suffer." So the good old 
 man resumed his pen, and for some moments no sound 
 interrupted the silence, save the ticking of a time- 
 piece which stood near him ; in ten minutes, however, 
 after Carleton's departure, the knocker again aroused 
 Dr. Elliott from his studies, and in another moment 
 Kate Sinclair entore 1 the rooin and was greeted by
 
 216 HOME I HOME. 
 
 her kind old friend with words of real affection ; taking 
 her small hands in his own large and tremulous ones, 
 he looked kindly into her sweet eyes, and said, " I think 
 the air of Granby has bean most beneficial to you. my 
 dear young lady, fo it has effectually banished the lily 
 and implanted in its stead the loveliest of roses ; there 
 now, you need not increase them, surely you would not 
 blush at the words of an old man like me ; but come, 
 my dear child, what brings you out at this hour ? some 
 kind reason I have no doubt !" 
 
 " Thanks, my dear sir," replied Kate, " you always 
 speak so flatteringly, that I shall begin to fear lest my 
 foolish heart should grow vain and proud ; I am come, 
 to ask you to see poor blind William in the morning, 
 he is in sad trouble about his grand-daughter,, who has 
 left her place in Mr. Goddard's family very suddenly, 
 and, as he fears in disgrace, but at present she is silent 
 on the subject, and the poor old man is quite unhappy ; 
 I have been talking to her, but as yet I have not been 
 able to induce her to confess her fault, though I have 
 some hope that she is silent more from a sense of shame 
 than from sullenness or pride." 
 
 " I will see them as soon as possible, my dear, but 1 
 must not allow you to lose any more time now as, par- 
 don me if I seem to interfere, but I really do not like 
 you to cross the fields alone so late in the evening, it 
 is past six o'clock, and I am sure that it is not right that 
 you should walk without an escort." 
 
 Kate thanked him for his kind advice, and said. 
 " Well, dear Dr. Elliott, I will promise 'you in future 
 to time my visits better, but I am sure you need not 
 fear for my safety, I shall reach the park iu a quarter
 
 HOME IS HOME. 217 
 
 of an hour, and after that you know, my dear sir, I 
 shall be quite at home." 
 
 A few more words, with an affectionate farewell 
 from the good doctor, and then Kate takes her home- 
 ward path ; blithely'she trips along, and as she enters 
 the little meadows she sings in the cheerfulness of her 
 heart, and gaily moves along in time to the measure 
 of her own sweet voice, now hastily snatching a wild 
 rose as she passe* the overhanging boughs, and then 
 a bit of pretty May, which is rather overblown though, 
 and is thrown aside as not fit to adorn her little posy, 
 much does she enjoy the sweet evening walk, and now 
 she reaches the stile which leads into the last of the 
 meadows ; this field was a long narrow slip of ground, 
 and sloped gradually down to the water ; the path lay 
 across it, and it was but a very short distance from 
 one stile to the opposite one ; just as Kate had de- 
 scended from the stile and was setting off at a brisk 
 pace she turned her head to the left, and at the top of 
 the field she saw a large and furious-looking bull 
 coming directly down towards her ; she would not run 
 but somewhat quickened her pace, hoping to reach the 
 stile before the creature saw her, but in an instant it 
 flew at her with a headlong speed which threatened 
 instant destruction, ploughing up the earth with its 
 horns. Paralysed with fear she stopped, and at that 
 moment she heard a man's voice calling her by name, 
 ' Miss Sinclair, Kate, throw yourself on your face !" 
 instinctively she obeyed, and the furious beast rushed 
 past her unable to check its flight and hurried by its 
 own impetus to the very bottom of the hill ; not a mo- 
 ment was to be lost, yet Kate, faint with alarm, could 
 10
 
 218 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 not move from the earth on which she had thrown 
 herself; suddenly a powerful arm raised her, and car- 
 rying her along with great rapidity placed her in safety 
 on the other side of the stile, then jumping quickly 
 over, Carleton, for' it was he, supported the almost 
 fainting girl and kindly soothed her alarmed spirits ; 
 a flood of tears relieved her, but finding that she still 
 trembled and looked pale Carleton insisted on her 
 leaning on his arm for support, and gratefully she ac- 
 cepted his proffered aid, though it was some time 
 before she could command herself sufficiently to ex- 
 press her sense of gratitude for the presence of mind 
 and courage which had rescued her from such immi- 
 nent peril and danger. On reaching the house Kate 
 once more thanked him with tearful eyes, and then 
 retired to her room to offer up her praises and thanks- 
 givings to Him who had sent this merciful deliverance ; 
 nor did she appear any more that evening. In vain 
 Carleton watched every opening of the door, he longed 
 to know how the sweet girl was after her sad alarm, 
 but a fear of ridicule kept him silent on the subject, 
 and the evening dragged heavily on as if the wheels 
 of time where clogged and everything had suddenly 
 lost all interest ; he felt that he was unlike himself, 
 and after waiting till nine o'clock in the hope of seeing 
 Kate, he suddenly pleaded an excuse and left the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 "When the Miss "Waldegraves retired for the night, 
 Isabel shut the door closely, and turning to Julia, said, 
 " What could be the* matter with Henry Carleton, this 
 evening : he was so cold and so distrait, and then did 
 you observe that his eyes were constantly and restlessly
 
 - HOME IS HOME. 219 
 
 looking towards the door every time Larkins or Gilbert 
 came into the room ? what is the reason I cannot 
 think, but he used to be a most charming person, and 
 now he is so changed." 
 
 " La, miss," said Neville, " I could soon tell you 
 what's the matter, but I don't want to make mischief, 
 and I am sure I should be sorry to take away any- 
 body's bread, but I .know if I was Lady Beauchamp, I 
 would soon see a difference in things." 
 
 . " What can you mean, Neville ?" said Julia, " what 
 can you know about Mr. Carleton ?" 
 
 " Oh, very well, miss, I don't want to tell, but you 
 might depend he's no more goodness in him than ano- 
 ther might who mightn't be so rich or handsome." 
 
 " Oh," said Isabel, " I am reqjly quite anxious to 
 know what you mean, Neville, and now that you have 
 gone so far I insist upon your telling me." 
 
 " Well, miss," said Neville, " if you insists I am 
 certainly in duty bound to obey your just/ commands, 
 and nobody can't blame me if I do my duty ; but you 
 must remember, I only just heard the tale at the sup- 
 per-table, and it may not be true ; it was the under 
 gardener that told it." 
 
 " Told what, Neville ? I wish you would not be so 
 slow." 
 
 " Well, miss, John said that he was coming round 
 from the flower gardens this evening about five o'clock, 
 when he saw Miss Sinclair come down the shrubbery, 
 and walk on towards Granby, but as she often did so 
 he did not think much about it, but that after he had 
 prepared a place or two for some roretantrums, he 
 was returning to the gardens when he saw Mr. Carle-
 
 220 H O M K IS HOME. 
 
 ton very quickly following the path that Miss Sinclair 
 ha,i taken about a half an hour before ; ' Oh, thought I,' 
 says John, ' there's some mischief a-brewing and I'll just 
 see what comes of this,' however, John was called away, 
 and the gardener kept him nearly an hour before he 
 could return to the path to Granby, when to his great 
 surprise, Miss Isabel, he saw Mr. Carleton running 
 along the last path field a-carrying Miss in his arms, 
 and jumping her over the stile like a great romping 
 Sfihool-girl, and then he stood and looked in her face ! 
 and then after a bit they walked home arm in arm ! 
 there ! young ladies, I don't wonder at your surprise." 
 
 " Surprise !" said Isabel, " I never in my life heard 
 of such scandalous behavior, and with an almost 
 stranger too ! for I know she never even saw him till 
 three weeks ago ! I declare Julia I will tell my aunt ! 
 a pretty governess truly she must be ! well, I shall 
 consider it quite my duty to put a stop to such 
 proceedings." 
 
 "Oh! Miss Waldegrave," said Neville, "I do hope 
 you will not mention what I have told you, oh, dear 
 miss, you would make a sad confusion, for every one 
 must know that I told you, and I am sure the house 
 will be too hot to hold me if once the servants think 
 I repeat what is said in the servants' hall ; so now pray, 
 Miss Isabel, I hope you will promise to keep it a secret 
 for the present, and depend on it she will soon be found 
 out if that's her behavior." 
 
 " Well, Neville," said Isabel, " I see there is some 
 reason for what you say, and at all events I will not be 
 the first to tell the tale ; but I do hope she will not 
 succeed in her vile arts."
 
 HOME IS HOME. 221 
 
 When Carleton left the drawing-room ?o abruptly, 
 he felt so feverish and uncomfortable from the excite- 
 ment which the afternoon's adventure had occasioned, 
 that he strolled out upon the lawn, and after walking up 
 and down a few moments, he again took his way through 
 the shrubbery path and went towards the scene of 
 Kate's perilous adventure. As he leant with folded 
 arms upon the stile and contemplated the place where 
 so lately he had seen her, as it were, on the verge of 
 destruction, he shuddered and felt a thrill of awe steal 
 over him ; her escape had been indeed almost miracu- 
 lous, as nothing but his accidental presence could have 
 saved her. Then came the thought, " But was my 
 presence accidental ; was it not mercifully permitted 
 that my agency should be employed to save the life of 
 this sweet girl?" Ay, he thought, she is indeed a 
 sweet girl ; and he retraced the progress of an interest 
 which he felt had been hourly increasing in his heart 
 since he first met her. Then came the sudden ques- 
 tion, " But to what does all this tend ? Shall I permit 
 her to gain such an ascendancy over my feelings with- 
 out ascertaining that at all events she is free in heart and 
 hand? No; but am I prepared to woo and seek to 
 win her as my bride ? Oh, surely this is premature, I 
 may not wish to do so ; I am now excited, and to-morrow 
 I shall be myself again." Thus mused Carleton, and 
 long he communed with himself before he retired for 
 the night. 
 
 The next day Kate arose quite ill with headache, 
 and she instantly sought her kind friend Lady Beau- 
 champ, and told her of the adventure which had be- 
 fallen her the evening before ; her account was very
 
 222 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 simple, and she did not enlarge upon the alarming 
 situation from which Carleton had rescued her, in- 
 deed, she felt half inclined to withhold his share in the 
 story, but her natural openness rendered all conceal- 
 ment impossible, and with blushing cheeks she related 
 the whole afiair. After some little hesitation, however, 
 she asked Lady Beauchamp not to mention the circum- 
 stance to any one but Sir Edmund, as she dreaded the 
 ridicule of the Miss Waldegraves. Lady Beauchtmp 
 readily promised this ; but she said, " Remember, in 
 future, my dear Miss Sinclair, I must not hear that 
 you walk 30 far alone, for I quite concur with Dr. El- 
 liott, in thinking it wrong for you to do so." 
 
 A few days after this occurrence, Sir Edmund an- 
 nounced his intention of taking all his family to Lon- 
 don, fixing the third week in June for their departure ; 
 and it was with real delight that Carleton promised to 
 remain at Granby till that time, in order that he might 
 then accompany them to town. Each day had seemed 
 but to increase in his susceptible mind the interest 
 which had been awakened towards Kate, but as yet, he 
 had kept his feelings enshrined within the deep recess- 
 es of his heart, and with the exception of Sir Edmund, 
 who, in such cases was most particularly clear-sighted, 
 no one had as yet guessed his secret. 
 
 Previously to their leaving the country, Lady Beau- 
 champ determined to ask all her neighbors to dine at 
 Granby, and a very large party was arranged for the 
 twelfth of June ; on which occasion, at Sir Edmund's 
 suggestion, Kate was earnestly requested to appear at 
 dinner, indeed, this was so kindly urged, that she felt 
 it wou/ i be rude to refuse, and, therefore, though she
 
 HOME IS HOME. 223 
 
 shrunk from the thought of the many annoyances to 
 which it might subject her, she at length consented. 
 
 Mr. Carleton was present when the request was 
 made, and watched her varying countenance with much 
 interest, and on hearing her accept the invitation, he 
 stole by degrees to her side, and in a very low tone 
 said, " I am indeed rejoiced at your decision, Miss 
 Sinclair." Why did these few words, pronounced too 
 in as calm and studied a manner as he could assume, 
 seiid the mantling blush to Kate's sweet face, and 
 give to Carleton's heart a sensation of the truest happi- 
 ness. 
 
 On retiring to rest Kate entered more closely than 
 ever upon her nightly duty of self-examination, and as 
 each exciting feeling of the last few days passed in 
 review before her, she felt that her existence possessed 
 indeed some new charm, some happier influence than 
 she had ever before experienced. Did she then love this 
 stranger ? " Oh impossible," she thought ; " no, no, he 
 is very delightful, very fascinating, and he has saved my 
 life ; surely it is gratitude alone which thus interests me 
 -.so much in his favor ; but," she continued, " how is it 
 that my duties have for the last few days appeared so irk- 
 some to me ? And then came the feeling of regret ' 
 which ever follows the remembrance of duties neglected, 
 or but ill-fulfilled. This must not be, she thought, 
 and now I will once more steadily pursue my allotted 
 course. She kept her resolution, and for some days 
 Carleton never saw her except for a few moments late 
 in the evenings. 
 
 Little, Alice was now much improved in health, and 
 was looking forward with ' Blight, to the prospect of
 
 224 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 going to London. She had for some days been al- 
 lowed to rest occasionally in the arms of her nurse 
 or her mamma, and Kate felt the greatest pleasure 
 in contributing to her amusements. Henrietta and 
 Gertrude had made great progress in their studies, par- 
 ticularly in music, and one evening it was proposed 
 that the children should be permitted to pass an hour 
 in the drawing-room, in order that Sir Edmund might 
 hear them play : this was a great indulgence, and they 
 chatted a great deal to nurse, while she dressed them 
 for their visit, and when at seven o'clock they were 
 summoned to the drawing-room, they looked quite 
 radiant with beauty and happiness, and Kate felt 
 much delighted at the evident satisfaction which their 
 appearance and improvement afforded to their parents, 
 Carleton, too, most highly applauded their success 
 in the performance of their pretty duet which they 
 played together. 
 
 The Miss Waldegraves were gone to spend the 
 day with a friend in the neighborhood, and thus for 
 OLice Kate felt at ease and happy as in former days ; 
 but she did not remain long in the drawing-room, when 
 the children had finished their visit, she left the 
 room with them, and as she passed, Carleton opened 
 the door for her, and as she shook hands with him, 
 at parting for the night, he whispered, " How is it, 
 taut I see you now so seldom, Miss Sinclair?" 
 
 These words, accompanied as they were with a 
 slight pressure of her soft hand, awakened in Kate's 
 mind, fresh food for a " curtain lecture " on her own 
 too great interest in this comparative stranger, albeit 
 she could scarcely banish the feeling o~f happiness which 
 they had produced
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 ^ .*~ bwelft-'i of June arrived, and with it came the ex- 
 pected dinner party at Granby Hall. Kate Sinclair 
 was standing at her window ready dressed, and looking 
 more than usually lovely, when the first carriage drove 
 up to the Hall door she instantly retreated and went to 
 wish her little pupils good night before she proceeded to 
 the drawing-room. Little Alice exclaimed, " Oh you 
 dear beautiful Kate, how nic you look in your pretty 
 blue dress, such a sweet colour, so delicate and so pretty, 
 I wish I could see you by and bye, for I am sure you 
 will be the queen of the room." 
 
 " Oh hush, hush, Alice, you are a naughty little flat- 
 terer." But Kate knelt by her side, and her sweet soft 
 kisses did not speak of much real displeasure. Having 
 taken leave of the little party, she now left them in the 
 care of their good nurse. 
 
 A long passage led across from this part of the house 
 to the grand staircase, and then by descending a few steps 
 Kate arrived at the beautiful carved oak door of the great 
 drawing-room, which occupied the whole width of the 
 centre of the house, and had corresponding doors at each 
 end ; here Kate paused, for she felt alarmed at the thought 
 of entering the room alone, but to her great relief she 
 heard voices in the haU below, and standing aside for a
 
 226 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 moment, some of the party came up the staircase preceded 
 by the butler, who throwing open the drawing-room door 
 announced " Sir Charles and Lady Peignton and the 
 Miss Peigntons," and as the two young ladies followed 
 their papa and mamma, Kate entered at the same mo- 
 ment, and keeping close by them avoided the annoyance 
 of being alone. As she passed Carleton, who stood near 
 the door, he whispered, " I congratulate you on your good 
 management," and she felt thankful for the kind interest 
 which these few words expressed. The half hour before 
 dinner is always a sadly dull affair. People arrived at 
 intervals, and then formed themselves into little coteries 
 much as is usual in such cases, until the magic words 
 " Dinner on table, Sir Edmund," induced a general 
 move. 
 
 Whether in virtue of her being considered as one of 
 the Miss Peigntons, or whether her own sweet look and 
 manner decided the matter, it is not easy to say, but cer- 
 tain it was, that just as Carleton reluctantly handed off 
 Miss Isabel at her aunt's suggestion, a very gentlemanly 
 and most agreeable person came, and offering his arm to 
 Kate, led her down to the dining-room. Having followed 
 Carleton, she found herself placed at the table between 
 him and her new acquaintance, and as her spirits rose in 
 proportion as her mauvaise honte was subdued, she soon 
 became lively, and for a time lost sight of her dependent 
 situation. 
 
 The party was large, the dinner perfect, and every 
 thing succeeded " au merveille ;" and when the ladies 
 rose to leave the table, Kate had quite lost all feeling of 
 embarrassment : but now a new ordeal awaited her. 
 Ladies are often much greater sticklers for place and
 
 HOME ? HOME. 2'27 
 
 precedence than gentlemen, and Kate's extreme beauty 
 was not at all times a recommendation to favour, so that 
 by the time she reached the drawing-room, enquiries had 
 been made as to " who that lovely girl next the rich Mr. 
 Carleton could be?" and had been answered by the Miss 
 Waldegraves in no very flattering terms, and but for Lady 
 Beauchamp's presence much would have been said in de- 
 traction of the too lovely Miss Sinclair ; .as it was, a select 
 party immediately formed round their hostess, who stood 
 near the piano, and entered into earnest conversation with 
 her. excluding Kate, and thus leaving her alone and dis.- 
 trait by the table which occupied the centre of the room ; 
 once or twice she ventured to approach the circle, but 
 the immense range of white uncovered shoulders which 
 opposed her entrance induced her quietly to retreat, and 
 at length she took up a book in self-defence. Presently, 
 however, she was joined by a lady, who seating herself 
 near her, pretended for a moment to be seeking some print 
 or book, but suddenly she said in a low tone, " I fear 
 Miss Sinclair has quite forgotten me ;" and to Kate's 
 pleased surprise, she recognized Miss Melville, who as 
 soon as she saw she was remembered, kindly and cordially 
 shook hands with her. This caused a movement among 
 the assembled guests, who wondered that the " Honoura- 
 ble Miss Melville should shake hands with a governess ;" 
 but thus it ever is, the highly born and really noble have 
 no dread of losing caste, as it were, by noticing kindly 
 those who may in some respects possess fewer advantages, 
 but whose minds and manners entitle them to considera- 
 tion. 
 
 Miss Melville conversed most agreeably for sometime, 
 and then said, " I should like to introduce you to my two
 
 228 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 nieces ; and taking her with her to the other end of the 
 long room, she introduced her to the Miss Annesleys, who 
 were nice pretty unaffected girls, and who made room on 
 the sofa for Kate to join their little party. The windows 
 in this room were placed in very deep recesses, the floors 
 of which being higher than that of the room, were ap- 
 proached by two very shallow steps, and when the rich 
 crimson curtains were drawn, they formed complete small 
 rooms which were richly carpeted, and were furnished 
 with soft ottomans and couches and an elegant small 
 table for lights; these recessed windows, three in number, 
 were now lighted with candles in handsome silver branches, 
 but the curtains were not closed, as the evening was warm ; 
 and now coffee is handed and the younger ladies divide 
 into small parties, some already occupying couches in the 
 recesses, and a buzz of silvery voices resounds through 
 the room ; and now the door opens, and the gentlemen 
 join the party ; music is proposed, and Lady Beauchamp 
 goes to the harp, calling her neice Miss Waldegrave to 
 accompany her on the piano ; then Carleton is asked to 
 sing, and the young ladies are in ecstasies of delight ; but 
 as Kate keeps most cautiously aloof, he begins very soon 
 to tire of the scene, and presently escapes into one of the 
 window recesses, from whence he can observe all that 
 takes place in the room. 
 
 After his retreat, the young ladies suddenly found that 
 the music had lost its principal charm, and by degrees 
 the piano was forsaken. Lady Beauchainp, seated on 
 an ottoman and surrounded by the elite of her guests, to 
 whom she was making herself most agreeable, attracted 
 the almost envious observation of those who were not of 
 this fortune-fa r oured group, and many were watching ea-
 
 HOME IS HOME. 229 
 
 gerly in the hope of securing some vacated seat near her. 
 Among these was a Mrs. Goddard, whose greatest anxie- 
 ty at all times was to obtain the notice and patronage of 
 those who either by their rank or fortune held a higher 
 place in society than herself ; and though really a kind- 
 hearted goodnatured woman, she became splenetic and 
 almost cross if she felt herself excluded from the princi- 
 pal party in the room. Moreover she was somewhat dis- 
 posed to use a" little art in her mode of address, and her 
 manner was slightly tinged with affectation. Mr. God- 
 dard, a tall thin sallow man, with very straight intracta- 
 ble black hair, which, though most sedulously pressed 
 down in shining masses on his rather well shaped head, 
 resolutely stands out again straight from the tem- 
 ples, and requires constant attention to prevent the out- 
 line from presenting the figure of a well-drilled mp. 
 His neckcloth is very tight, his waistcoat white, and his 
 whole appearance very juvenile for a clergyman of eight 
 and thirty, indeed he is frequently mistaken for five and 
 twenty to his great delight. He is standing close by Mrs, 
 G-oddard, who evidently feels some alarm lest some one 
 should think her neglected by the -rest of the party, so 
 with rather an increase of colour she tells " Edward " 
 that she wishes he would go and talk to Miss Melville or 
 the Miss Waldegraves, and just then she spies out a va- 
 cant corner next to Lady Beauchamp, of which she takes 
 possession with rather more haste than grace ; and then, 
 while she hopes she is unobserved, dexterously draws the 
 little pink feather which adorns her new head dress into 
 a more conspicuous angle t and replaces her ringlets to 
 the best advantage ; then taking a favourable moment for 
 addressing her hostess, she says, " Dear Lady Beauchamp
 
 230 HOME IS HOME 
 
 I have been quite au desespoir at not being near you till 
 now. It seems such a long time since I had the pleasure 
 of seeing you, and may I ask who is that lovely girl that 
 I am told is a visiter of yours ? I am sure I quite regret 
 not having called on her and on your nieces." 
 
 " Oh," said Lady Beauchamp, " I conclude you mean 
 that young lady in a pale blue dress ?" 
 
 " Ah yes, that one next the Miss Annesleys." 
 
 ' ; That is Miss Sinclair," said Lady Beauchamp. 
 
 " And who is she, Lady Beauchamp ? a relation of 
 yours ?" 
 
 " Oh no, she is the governess of my two little girls." 
 
 " Dear me," said Mrs. Goddard, how very unfortu- 
 nate, I assure you I really took her for " - 
 
 " Oh pray do not apologize," said Lady Beauchamp, 
 * I assure you whatever you thought of Miss Sinclair 
 will hardly exceed her merits ; she is a perfect lady by 
 birth and education, and I am only too happy to have 
 such an excellent person as the guardian of my little girls, 
 I only hope they will follow her bright example." 
 
 " Dear me, how very fortunate you have been, Lady 
 Beauchamp I find it so difficult to find a proper gov- 
 erness for Charlotte and Matilda, indeed I would much 
 rather teach them myself than have the restraint of a 
 governess in the house." 
 
 " Depend upon it, my dear Mrs. Goddard," said Lady 
 Beauchamp, "it is our own fault if they become 'a re- 
 straint,' I should most cautiously choose such a one as 
 would be a fitting companion for myself, otherwise I 
 should feel no confidence in allowing her to direct the 
 minds and manners of my children ; and as a lady al- 
 ways knows hotf to conduct herself with propriety and
 
 HOME IS HOME. 23 1 
 
 tact, I should never fear that I should be subjected to 
 any intrusion or annoyance." 
 
 Poor Mrs. Goddard looked a little bewildered, and 
 half afraid that she had not " got on " so well as usual 
 with Lady Beauchamp, who had now turned to converse 
 with Lady Peignton, and she therefore quietly withdrew 
 herself from the ottoman and walked towards the table, 
 where she found her husband still occupied with some 
 splendid drawings of Australian scenery ; he looked up as 
 she came near him and said, " What's the matter, Jane ? 1> 
 to which she replied rather pettishly, " Why, matter ? 
 nothing at all, I am spending a delightful evening, and 
 Lady Beauchamp is most * agreeable, you always think 
 something is going on wrong." 
 
 At this moment a tall and still fine looking woman 
 drew near the Goddards, and with some little hesitation 
 "jowed to them ; her salutation was acknowledged with 
 much reserve by the lady, but by Mr. Goddard with 
 marked politeness and empressement ; as she passed on 
 she met the Miss Waldegraves crossing the room with the 
 Miss Peigntons ; having known these young ladies from 
 the time when as little girls they used to visit Granby, 
 Mrs. Singleton offered her hand with some show of 
 warmth, when to her great surprise the tip of one of Is- 
 abel's gloved fingers was extended in return, and with a 
 stiff curtsy Miss Waldegrave and her party swept by the 
 surprised Mrs. Singleton. 
 
 As soon as they were all out of hearing, Mrs. God- 
 dard said, " I am quite surprised, Edward, to see the no- 
 tice you bestow on that Mrs. Singleton ; did you not ob- 
 serve the cold manner in which those fashionable Miss 
 Waldegraves passed her, depend upon it she is nobody 
 among the ttite."
 
 232 HOME IS H O M . 
 
 " I cannot help that, Jane ; I know she is a perfect 
 lady, and of good though not noble family, and I am 
 quite sure if Mrs. Singleton had arrived here this even- 
 ing in her own carriage, with servants in handsome 
 liveries, she would have been considered by those very 
 girls a most delightful and desirable acquaintance." 
 
 The Miss Waldegraves and their companions in the 
 mean time had seated themselves on a couch just in 
 front of the spot where Carleton had for some time 
 been amusing himself by watching the scenes which we 
 have described, and he now hears Isabel's voice loud 
 in detraction of some one. " Oh," she said, " she may 
 be very lovely, I do not myself think so, but you know 
 people differ so in such matters ; but this I am sure of, 
 a more artful designing girl I never met with, and I 
 wonder Miss Melville could think of noticing her, but 
 she does not know her, that's one thing." 
 
 The answer was given in so low a tone that it did 
 not reach Carleton's ear, and he did not know who was 
 the object of Isabel's attack ; however, he did not in- 
 tend to listen," and he instantly rose to leave his place, 
 when he was rivetted to the spot by hearing her say, 
 " Oh, I could tell you such a story of that Miss Sin- 
 clair ! well, if you will not mention it, I do not see why 
 I should keep her secret ; only fancy, she was seen the 
 other day in Mr. Carleton's arms in the shrubbery, and 
 he actually jumped her over a stile like a romping 
 school girl." 
 
 At this wickedly perverted story, Carleton lost all 
 patience, and, stepping hastily forward, he said, " Allow 
 me, Miss "Waldegrave, to ask from whom did you receive 
 that intelligence, which has indeed been most strangely
 
 HOME IS HOME. 233 
 
 misrepresented, to say the least of it :" and then turn- 
 ing to Miss Peignton, to whom Isabel had so cruelly 
 calumniated Kate, he said, " It is quite true that in 
 rescuing Miss Sinclair from a furious bull I was under 
 the necessity of conveying her in a fainting state across 
 a meadow and of placing the stile between her and the 
 dangerous animal. I hope, Miss Waldegrave," he 
 continued, " when next you speak of me or Miss Sin- 
 clair you will use a ,little more charitable discretion 
 than you have on this occasion." Slightly bowing, with 
 a curl on his lip which spoke volumes to the now 
 frightened Isabel, he left the room. 
 
 Oh, what shame and vexation filled the heart of the 
 haughty Isabel, and she saw that Miss Peignton too 
 was quite as much disgusted by her unkind malevo- 
 lence as Carleton himself, and in a few moments she 
 was left alone to reflect with shame upon her detected 
 spite ; she tried to throw the blame on Neville, but the 
 little monitor within told her in plain terms that she 
 never had believed the story which she had so shame- 
 fully promulgated contrary to her promise, and that 
 when she began to speak on the subject she had felt 
 convinced in her own mind that the whole had originated 
 in some mistake, and the proud haughty girl felt all the 
 humiliation which she deserved. 
 
 Carriages were now announced, and the party sepa- 
 rated. Miss Melville shook hands with Kate at part- 
 ing, and turning to Lady Beauchamp said, " I have 
 kmwn this young lady before, and a brother of hers 
 quite won my heart one day. By the bye, Miss Sin- 
 elair, I hear he has found a kind patron in Sir Archi- 
 bald Munroe. who is a connexion of mine, and I hope
 
 234 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 when you come to town I shall have the pleasure of 
 meeting you both in Street." 
 
 And now the room is cleared, and Kate feels a little, 
 perhaps not a little disappointed and vexed at having 
 lost sight of Carleton so much ; he had " scarcely 
 spoken to her since dinner." And when she laid her 
 gentle head upon the pillow, she buried her face, and 
 without daring to penetrate their cause, shed tears of 
 painful excitement. 
 
 And Carleton, where was he? After leaving the 
 drawing-room so suddenly, he rushed down into the 
 hall, and snatching a hat from the stand, he went forth 
 into the open air to try to still the angry throbbings of 
 his excited frame. A long time he paced up and down 
 the lawn, and then hastily sought a more secluded 
 spot, where in solitude he might collect his scattered 
 thoughts. " Yes," he said to himself, " it is plain that 
 I truly love this dear gentle creature, and shall I per- 
 mit her fair fame to be traduced without defending her 
 from the assaults of the envious and malevolent ? 
 Sweet Kate ! to-morrow will I seek thee, and should 
 I fail to win thy love, I will no longer expose thee to 
 calumny and wrong. But what if her heart should 
 already be devoted to another ? Yet surely those 
 thrilling blushes which have of late induced a hope 
 that I am not indifferent to her, cannot in so guileless 
 a creature be delusive." 
 
 Musing thus for nearly an hour, Carleton con- 
 tinued his lonely walk, and finally resolved that ere 
 the conclusion of another day his fate should be de- 
 cided.
 
 CHAPTEE XXI. 
 
 THE following morning found all the party at the break- 
 fast table gloomy and uncomfortable. Isabel was proud 
 and sullen, and Julia no less so, Carleton preoccupe and 
 unwilling to converse, and Sir Edmund and Lady Beau 
 champ so much disconcerted and annoyed at the ill be 
 haviour of their nieces, "that they felt constrained and 
 silent. However, fortunately for Carleton, it was pro- 
 posed that Lady Beauchamp should take the children to 
 call on some friends at Aysheton, a village at about ten 
 miles' distance from Granhy, and as he left the room Sir 
 Edmund said, " Carleton, I believe the Miss Walde- 
 graves intend riding, and will perhaps be glad of your 
 escort." 
 
 Carleton had great difficulty in restraining the angry 
 words which rose to his lips ; but with a glance at Isabel 
 which dismissed the color from her cheeks, he said, " I 
 thank you, Sir Edmund, but I fear I must decline the 
 honour," and taking up a newspaper he hastily left the 
 room. 
 
 Sir Edmund easily imagined that he had been dis- 
 gusted by some new impertinence of Isabel's, and as he 
 really wished for an opportunity of telling her how much 
 her conduct distressed him, he decided on accompanying 
 them himself m their morning ride.
 
 236 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 The cavalcade soon set forth, it was a brilliant morn- 
 ing, and as Kate watched them from her window taking 
 their way through the park, she half wished she could 
 have joined the party. However, after waiting some 
 time expecting to see Carleton follow them, she came to 
 the conclusion that he was not going, and she suddenly 
 felt that she would much rather remain quietly at nome ; 
 but she thought possibly he is gone on in advance. Oh 
 yes, that is the case, I Kre say, for he would not prefer 
 being alone, and a gentle sigh escaped her. Blushing 
 as she detected herself indulging in this little reverie 
 about a person in " whom she could not really feel any 
 particular interest," Kate resolved to seek some occupa- 
 tion, but what should it be ? The children were gone 
 out, and the thoughts of the last evening's party occu- 
 pied her mind so much, that she felt sadly unsettled. 
 After some hesitation, she thought she would take a 
 book and stroll slowly to some favourite spot in the park, 
 where she might sit and read without interruption. As 
 she crossed the hall she met the butler with letters. 
 " Any for me, Gilbert ? " 
 
 " Yes, Miss Sinclair ; " and looking over the packet 
 in his hand he gave her a letter from her brother Charles. 
 Taking this with her, and shading herself under an um- 
 brella from the burning heat of the sun, Kate slowly 
 pursued her way along the path which led to the " Fairy 
 Dell," where she had first seen Carleton, the thought of 
 whom it must be owned occupied her mind so much that 
 she almost forgot the anxiety she had previously felt to 
 receive an account of her dear brother's progress in his 
 new situation. On reaching her favourite spot, however, 
 she seated herself on a shady bank, and opening Charles 
 letter, she read as follows :
 
 HOME IS HOME. 237 
 
 :; MY DEAREST SISTER, 
 
 " I HAVE been intending for some days to write to 
 you, for I really long to tell you some of the strange 
 events which ha\e occurred since I wrote my last letter 
 to you. I think I told you that soon after I came into 
 this street to live I met our old friend Miss liar top, 
 who said that she was now staying with a widow lady, 
 a M.rs. Marston who occupied a nice house very near to 
 my lodgings, and she kindly proposed my calling on her 
 there, assuring me that I should receive a Kind welcome 
 from her friends. I was of course very glad of a little 
 change after my office duties were ended, so I availed 
 myself of her kind invitation on the very next evening, 
 and I can never forget my kind reception. Mrs. Mars- 
 ton is a delightful person ; I should think sLc must 
 be older than she appears, but I almost thought her 
 pretty, she has so sweet an expression of countenance, 
 and her little girls are quite perfection. Well, after 
 paying two or three visits, for they insisted on my com- 
 ing frequently, imagine my surprise when one evening 
 that eccentric old Gentleman, Mr. Crosby, entered the 
 room and addressed Mrs. Marston as his niece. He 
 spoke in his usual way, so shortly and almost rudely, that 
 I thought of taking my hat and wishing him good even- 
 ing ; however, Mrs. Marston gave me a kind look and 
 I stayed on. In a few minutes tea was announced, and 
 I found that Mr. Crosby meant to stay. When Miss 
 Hartop and the girls joined us, the old Gentleman was 
 so kind, so gentle in his manner to them, that he quite 
 won my heart, and after a time he began talking very 
 kindly to me also ; and when he went away he said, 
 ' Some dav when vou have leisure, come and see me,' and
 
 238 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 he gave me his card. You may be sure, my dear Kate. 
 I lost no time, but the first day that I could obtain leave 
 of absence I went to visit him ; I soon found his house, 
 which is not above a mile from Belmont. and a delight- 
 fully comfortable place it is. He was most kind, and 
 talked to me a great doi! about poor little Henry. I 
 cannot think why he i'^ls, so much interest in children. 
 I shall tire you with this long story, Kate ; but I must 
 teil you that since niy visit to him he has been so affec 
 ticnate in his manner that he seems more like a father 
 than a person whom I have so lately considered as a 
 stranger ; and last evening when I returned to my lodg- 
 ings I found a present from him, consisting of a very 
 handsome flute and a nice box of colours, and I am to 
 dine with him again to-morrow. He wished me to spend 
 Sunday with him, but I always pass that day with my 
 dear father and mother ; by the bye, you cannot think 
 how nicely they are getting on ; Papa's pictures sell for 
 such a price! and then your generous kind remittance, 
 dearest sister, and my mite as I call it, make up a wel- 
 come increase to their slender income, and they are now. 
 thank God, quite comfortable and happy. Honor and 
 Rory look as blithe as larks, and I suppose soon they 
 will be thinking of entering the blissful state of matri- 
 mony. "Well this is indeed a long letter. God bless 
 you, my darling Kate. 
 
 " Ever your affectionate brother, 
 
 " CHARLES SINCLAIR." 
 
 Kate had been so deeply interested in her brother's 
 letter that she had not noticed the approach of Carle- 
 ton, who with gentle steps had stolen to he* side, and
 
 HOME IS HOME. 239 
 
 n jw when lie addressed her by name she started and 
 coloured with pleased surprise, and then of course said 
 that which was the least calculated to remove the im- 
 pression which her agitation might have conveyed 
 when she blushiugly avowed that she " thought Mr. 
 Carleton was gone with the party to Aysheton," and 
 then Carleton is encouraged by this to take her hand and 
 to look with those soft though brilliant eyes of his into 
 her sweet face while in tender tones he says, " And you 
 did think of me then, Kate !" 
 
 It is the first time he ever thus addressed her, yet 
 she does not withdraw her hand or look very angry, 
 so he takes courage and begins a tale of soft affection, 
 which as it was intended for her ear only we will not 
 Intrude, but leave him fully to explain the rise and pro- 
 gress of this feeling in his heart of hearts, and having 
 allowed them a full hour for these explanations we will 
 venture again to take a peep at them. there they are ! 
 just coming forth from their Fairy Dell. Carleton looks 
 brightly, beamingly happy ; and Kate has a lovely car- 
 mine tint upon her cheek which speaks of emotion, and 
 the long fringes of her deep blue eyes are still moistened 
 by tears of tender affection. Well, well, it is a plain 
 case ; our friend Carleton has not been unsuccessful in 
 his suit ; and now they turn towards the garden they 
 have just seen the gardeners leave the grounds, for the. 
 servants' dinner bell rang five minutes since ; yes, yes, 
 the garden will be a quiet place for a tete a tete ; and 
 now they reach the garden door and I declare they 
 have made some progress, for there is Carleton holding 
 Kate's hand in his. As they enter the green-house 
 Kate saysj " I fear I am sadly selfish to have consented
 
 240 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 to become your portionless bride and to bring upon you 
 perhaps a. sbare of the slights which my dependent 
 situation has produced; what will your friends, your 
 family say, Mr. Carleton, to your choosing an humble 
 governess in preference to one of higher rank and 
 fortune?" 
 
 " I, too, my dear Miss Sinclair pshaw, no, I must > 
 call you my own dear Kate ; I may now ! well then, 
 my own Kate, I have a confession to make which may 
 induce you to think that even in respect of birth and 
 rank you are my superior, though I trust what I shall 
 confide to you will not lead to any change in your senti- 
 ments towards me. You talk of my family, alas ! I 
 have none, or at least none who acknowledge me. I was sent 
 to England for education by a gentleman in India who had 
 adopted me, and who afterwards left me all his property, 
 and the circumstances which induced him to protect me 
 are known to my guardian, Sir Archibald Monroe, but as 
 he thought a knowledge of them would serve only lo un - 
 settle me, he has hitherto refused to explain them but 
 you will not desert me, Kate, even if I should prove to 
 be of less noble extraction than yourself?" 
 
 A gentle pressure of the arm on which she leant was 
 her only reply ; but presently she said, " You have 
 agreed that I ought not to promise to be yours, Mr. 
 Carleton, till I have written to obtain my parents' con- 
 sent, and I think I must not meet you again on this 
 subject till you receive their answer ; do you acquiesce 
 in this opinion, and am I permitted to tell my kind 
 friend here what has already passed between us T 
 
 " yes, certainly," replied Carleton, although it 
 must be confessed he felt unwilling to wait so long ere 
 h i( uld claim another interview with his beloved Kate.
 
 HOME. IS HOME. 241 
 
 On her return to the house Kate went instantly to 
 her room, well pleased to find that Lady Beauchamp and 
 the rest of the party were not yet come back from their 
 excursion, and long and pleasantly did she muse on the 
 happy prospect which now opened before her ; yes, she 
 felt that she truly loved the generous, unselfish young 
 man who had thus for her sake braved the opinions of 
 Uic world by socking a& his wife one who had been occupy- 
 ing a situation of dependence, and whose portionless state 
 would have deterred most men of his pretensions from 
 such an engagement. She now sat down and wrote an 
 account of all that had taken place to her mother, and 
 confessed to that most tender friend the real state of 
 her affections. In the meantime Carleton wrote to Mr. 
 Sinclair, and confided to him his sincere attachment for 
 Kate, explaining fully such of his circumstances as he 
 deemed needful, and earnestly entreating his sanction to 
 an engagement on which, as he said, " his future happi- 
 ness depended." And now, though nothing doubting 
 that the answer to his letter would be a favourable one, he 
 resolves to await its arrival before he permits his secret 
 to be generally known in the family circle, although to- 
 wards Sir Edmund and Lady Beauchamp he thinks it 
 right to lay aside all reserve : receiving from them the 
 most earnest and sincere congratulations, his heart is 
 filled with delight as they enlarge upon the merits of the 
 sweet and amiable character of her whom he now hopes 
 ere long will be his bride. 
 
 Lady Beauchamp lost no time in seeking Kate, and 
 
 her gentle sympathy, so sweetly expressed, induces the 
 
 trembling girl to hide her blushing face on the shoulder 
 
 of this kind friend, who impresses on her cheek a kiss of 
 
 11
 
 242 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 tender sympathy, and whispers, u God bless you, my 
 dearest Kate !" 
 
 Bat despite their wish and intention to keep their 
 secret for a time, they find it almost impossible to evade 
 the scrutiny of Miss Isabel's jealous eyes ; she really 
 seems to have no occupation but that of watching them, 
 and it is plain that she takes every opportunity of inter- 
 rupting any word or look which she fancies betrays in- 
 terest towards each other, and then she wearies her sister 
 with ill-nature^ animadversions upon " that governess," 
 as she now always calls her. 
 
 One evening Carleton asked Kate to sing a favourite 
 little song of his, the concluding words of which were. 
 " I'll never cease loving thee," and sweetly, thrillingly 
 she sings, while her lover stands close by her side ; he con- 
 trived as he thought unobserved to whisper, " Remember 
 I shall claim this as a promise, Kate ;" but on looking 
 up, Isabel as usual had her large eyes fixed upon them 
 both, and when she retired for the night she told Julia 
 that " as to ' that governess,' it was quite disgraceful the 
 way in which she was trying to entrap Henry Carleton, 
 and that her songs were sung entirely for that purpose 
 she knew. !) 
 
 Ah'Missj" said Neville, " I believe she will be clever 
 enough to win him, for from all I hear she is likely enough 
 to be Mrs. Carleton some day." 
 
 " I wish, Neville, said Isabel, you would keep your 
 opinions to yourself ; I declare I am astonished that any 
 one should pretend to think that Mr. Carleton would 
 lower himself by marrying a governess !" 
 
 Neville, who felt a secret pleasure in tormenting her 
 proud ill-conducted young lady, now looked so provok-
 
 HOME IS HOME. 243 
 
 ingly sly and smiled with so much meaning, that Isabel 
 was quite thrown off her guard, and she said in a haughty 
 imperious manner, " I request, Neville, you will instant- 
 ly leave the room, and never again dare to mention this 
 subject in my presence." 
 
 Neville, who was at the moment engaged in folding 
 her young lady's muslin dress which she had just taken 
 off, now hastily and almost rudely threw it across the 
 back of a chair, and tossing her head obeyed the imperi- 
 ous mandate, leaving Isabel rather at a loss how to dis- 
 pense with her services. Very angry and irritated she 
 now found the room oppressively warm, and pettishly 
 approaching the window sho threw it open, admitting a 
 sudden draught of air which instantly extinguished her 
 light : it was however a bright moonlight night, so for a 
 few moments she stood enjoying the effect of the cooling 
 breeze upon her heated brow. Meantime Julia had 
 escaped, not liking to remain with her sister while she 
 was under the influence of ill-humour, and Kate Sinclair 
 had been sitting quietly reading for a few minutes in her 
 own room, but at this moment she felt greatly inclined 
 to steal into little Alice's nursery, as she thought the 
 child had looked a little feverish when she went to bed. 
 Putting on a shawl, therefore, over her dressing-gown, 
 she gently approached the couch of the now sleeping Al- 
 ice. Setting down her candle, she knelt by the side of 
 the little invalid and gently kissed her sweetly-parted 
 lips. At this moment a shriek from Isabel's room 
 alarmed her, and in another instant she distinctly heard 
 the words, " help ! some one help me ! Fire ! fire !" 
 
 Snatching a large woollen cloak of the nurse's which 
 hung in the room. Kate rushed towards Miss Walde-
 
 244 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 grave's apartment, where to her horror she perceived 
 Isabel, with her dress on fire, vainly endeavouring to stop 
 the progress of the flames which had already nearly con-v 
 sumed the muslin frock which Neville had thrown on tlfe 
 chair. With admirable presence' of mind Kate rushed 
 towards her, cautiously holding the woollen cloak so as 
 to prevent the flames from communicating with her own 
 thin dressing-gown, then wrapping the cloak all over the 
 terrified girl she presently succeeded in putting out the 
 flames, though not before poor Isabel's beautiful neck and 
 arms were much scorched and her hair slightly singed. 
 All this was the work of a few seconds. Kate now gen- 
 tly placed Isabel on her bed, and then ran to fetch Ne- 
 ville, who however had no inclination to render any as- 
 sistance and angrily muttered that Miss Waldegrave 
 might help herself if she liked. Kate lost no time in 
 returning to Isabel's room, and in a few moments Neville 
 appeared : on examination they found that Isabel, though 
 in very great pain and alarm, had sustained no great de- 
 gree of injury, and as she did not seem inclined to avail 
 herself of Kate's services any longer, she soon left her in 
 Neville's charge, thinking it unnecessary to disturb Lady 
 Beauchamp or to call any other member of the family ; 
 she determined however to sit for some time in her room 
 before she weat to bed, in case any further help should 
 be needful, and she almost immediately afterwards heard 
 Neville pass her door with a hasty step. After waiting 
 nearly half-an-hour longer, thinking every moment that 
 the servant would return, she began to feel assured that 
 poor Isabel was left alone for the night, and thinking she 
 must be suffering very much from pain and from the 
 alarmed state of her spirits, she again crent softK to ho*
 
 HOME IS HOME. 245 
 
 bedside, and found her so much worse than she had anti- 
 cipated that she offered to bathe the shoulders with a 
 cooling lotion. Confused and really ill, Isabel did not 
 recognize her kind assistant, but concluding it was her 
 servant she asked for something to drink in her usual 
 peremptory cross tone, which rather disconcerted Kate ; 
 . however she thought to herself, " Well, she is in sad 
 pain, poor girl, I must make allowances for her," and re- 
 turning to her own room she. carefully selected such 
 things from her little medicine chest as she thought might 
 tend to allay the burning heat of the scorched arms and 
 neck. Accustomed for a long time to attend the poor and 
 to administer to their wants,Kate well knew what would be 
 most, efficacious in this case, and taking with her a slight 
 sudorific she again went to the suffering girl's assistance, 
 and firmly but gently she applied all the needful reme- 
 dies, nor did she leave Isabel for the whole of the night 
 though she continued sleeping, or rather dozing, even 
 while Kate was employed in applying her cooling reme- 
 dies. 
 
 Towards the dawn of day Isabel roused herself from 
 the sort of lethargy into which she had been thrown by 
 Her medicine, and quietly opening the curtain of her bed, 
 she was surprised at seeing Kate sitting in her loose 
 dressing-gown, reading. Uttering a cry of surprise, she 
 said, " Miss Sinclair ! you here ? where then is Ne- 
 ville ? " 
 
 Kate gently drew near her, and said, " Pray be calm, 
 
 Miss Waldegrave. I am here because I could not bear 
 
 to remain sleeping while you were alone and suffering 
 
 such pain." 
 
 Isabel, yes, the haughty Isabel, buried her face on her
 
 246 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 pillow, and wept tears of shame and remorse. She 
 knew now whose were the gentle, kind hands which had, 
 through the weary hours of the long night, been minis 
 tering to her ease and comfort ; and though still too proud 
 to confess her faults aloud, yet she vainly tried to still 
 the monitor within which so loudly proclaimed her un- 
 worthiness of such consideration .at Miss Sinclair's 
 hands. Kate now again attended to her injuries, and 
 had the satisfaction of finding that all inflammation was 
 rapidly disappearing, and to Isabel's question, " Do you 
 think I shall be much disfigured ?" she answered cheer- 
 ingly and encouragingly that she hoped and believed no 
 scar even would remain. 
 
 As soon as the servants were up, Kate sent off a 
 groom to fetch the nearest surgeon, who soon arrived, 
 and after complimenting Miss Sinclair on her care and 
 skill, pronounced a full confirmation of her opinion that 
 Isabel would very soon lose all the ill effects of her acci- 
 dent, which she now explained had arisen from her hav- 
 ing dropped a vesta match upon the muslin dress near 
 which she was standing in the dark after her candle had 
 been extinguished by the opening of her window. 
 
 In a few day 3 Isabel was again able to join the party 
 below, and every one observed that even on her ill-regu 
 lated mind this lesson of gentle forbearance and forgive- 
 ness of injuries had not been thrown away; for during 
 the short tim.e which remained of her stay at Granby, 
 Isabel never again spoke of Kate with unkindness or dis- 
 respect, and on the day of her departure she sought an 
 opportunity of taking leave of the kind-hearted girl, and 
 said, while holding her hand, " Can you forgive me ?" 
 A kindly pressure of Kate's soft hand was the only an-
 
 HOME IS HOME. 247 
 
 swer, but the gentle, tearful look by which it was accom- 
 panied spoke volumes to the now penitent heart of Isabel 
 Waldegrave. 
 
 Soon after the departure of the Miss Waldegraves had 
 taken place, a letter arrived from Mr. Sinclair, containing, 
 as might have been expected, a full consent to Carleton's 
 proposal and now her engagement is openly avowed, and 
 a few days of perfect happiness intervene before they 
 leave the scene which has given rise to so much interest 
 to both, and Lady Beauchainp kindly made such arrange- 
 ments as should leave Kate free to occupy her time as 
 might be most pleasant to her, while she herself devoted 
 her mornings to he^r children. Kate frequently went with 
 Carleton to visit the poor people at Granby, and more 
 than one ill-timed though kindly-intended remark brought 
 to Kate's cheek that ready blush of soft emotion so pre- 
 cious in the eyes of her lover. Old blind William had 
 heard from the servants at the Hall that Miss Sinclair 
 was to be married to the rich Mr. Carleton, and one day 
 when they were standing at his garden gate talking to 
 him he said, " Well, Miss, I pray the Lord night and day 
 that you and the noble gentleman may find true happi- 
 ness and live together in unity and love all the days of 
 your life ;" to which Carleton said, " Thanks, my good 
 old friend, I must say Amen to that kind wish," and as 
 he turned away he pressed the hand of his beloved Kate 
 and whispered, K You, too, dearest, will add yours, will 
 you not ?" and now they crossed the green and strolled 
 to Dr. Elliott's, who received tiicm with much affection ; 
 when they had been with him a few minutes in his com- 
 fortable study he said, " My dear young friends, I am 
 sure you will forgive me if I venture to express to you
 
 248 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 the joy I feel at hearing of your mutual attachment ; 
 nothing could have given me more sincere pleasure ; and 
 when it shall please the Almighty to bid my labours 
 cease, I shall truly rejoice in the happiness which will 
 await my precious flock, for I am certain you, my dear 
 Mr. Carleton, will never lose sight of their eternal inter- 
 ests, and my sweet Kate will I am sure be a tender com- 
 forting friend to all my people. May God bless you both 
 and make you truly happy." 
 
 We must now pass over some little time ; Granby 
 Hall is deserted, and Sir Edmund and all his family have 
 just taken possession of a nice house very near to Sir 
 Archibald Munroe's ; Kate is the acknowledged jiancte 
 of Carleton, though she still fulfils her duties as govern- 
 ess to her dear little pupils, for she feels that her parents 
 still require her aid. 
 
 Soon after her arrival in London she went to see all 
 the dear party in Street and found them still occu- 
 pying the room which she and Charles had so skilfully 
 arranged on their first arrival there. It would be impos- 
 sible to describe the joy which her return conveyed to 
 the happy group assembled ; suffice it to say that -it was 
 as sincere, as unfeigned joy and happiness as ever befell 
 mortal creatures. Honor wept aloud as usual, and as 
 usual read an Irish lecture upon the " fools of tares " 
 which always did so trouble her ; the children never tired 
 of looking at her dear face ; Miss Moffat was in an 
 ecstasy of delight, and all hailed with the truest pleasure 
 a renewed intercourse with one so dearly and justly 
 belovec 1 
 
 A few days after Kate's first visit to her parents, Sir 
 Edmund proposed that a general reunion should take
 
 HOME IS HOME. 249 
 
 place at his house, and Carleton listened with much 
 pleasure to the proposed arrangement. " Thursday will 
 be dear Kate's birthday," said Lady Beauchamp, " and I 
 am sure they would all like to pass that day with her." 
 
 " Well, then," said Sir Edmund, " will you "/rite a 
 note to 'invite them all for that day, my dear Gertrude, 
 and I will get Sir Archibald to join our party. Per- 
 haps, Carleton," he added, " you and Kate will convey 
 our invitation, and bring us, I hope, a satisfactory an- 
 swer." 
 
 Carleton, who really wished to become acquainted 
 with a family in whom he felt so deeply interested, 
 readily accepted this commission, and he had no diffi- 
 culty in persuading Kate to accompany him in his walk 
 
 to Street. We will not dwell upon the manner of 
 
 Carleton's introduction to the family of his beloved 
 Kate, but it will be as well to say that they were all 
 mutually pleased with each other, and that Mrs. Sinclair 
 was quite charmed with her handsome gentlemanly son- 
 in-law elect, and felt not a little elated at her dear Kate's 
 good fortune. 
 
 The invitation was cordially accepted, and the two 
 little girls were made happy by a special little note from 
 Lady Beauchamp requesting that they would come in 
 the morning and spend the whole day with her chil- 
 dren. 
 
 On leaving Street, Carleton and Kate proceeded 
 
 to call on Miss Hartop at Mrs. Marston's, having previ- 
 ously appointed that Charles should meet them there. 
 When they arrived, however, the servant told them that 
 Charles was not yet come, but would soon be there, and 
 they went into the drawing-room to wait for him. On 
 11*
 
 250 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 entering they perceived an old gentleman standing at 
 the window evidently watching for some one, but as he 
 did not move or turn his head they all sat down to await 
 Charles's arrival. Presently Miss Hartop came into 
 the room and received Kate with affectionate warmth, 
 and then turning to Carleton she held out her hand and 
 said, " I must not wait for a formal introduction to you, 
 Mr. Carleton, you will I am sure pardon this freedom 
 in an old friend of Miss Sinclair's." 
 
 During this somewhat lengthy speech the old gentle- 
 man had stolen a look of interest towards the party, and 
 now came forward, and looking earnestly at Kate, he said, 
 " Miss Sinclair, hey ? Charles Sinclair's sister', I pre- 
 sume ;" and Kate holds out her hand with her own 
 peculiar frank manner, and says, " I am truly glad to 
 have an opportunity of thanking Mr. Crosby for all his 
 kindness to my Bear brother." 
 
 " Pshaw ! pshaw ! I won't have thanks from any 
 body but however I am glad to see you, Miss Sinclair, 
 and here comes Charles, who will I daresay be still more 
 pleased to see you ;" and now Charles rushes in and 
 embraces Kate with such warmth that the rest of the 
 party laugh at him, and then he is introduced to Carle- 
 ton, * ho shakes hands with him with real affectionate 
 interest, and then Charles introduces Carleton to " his 
 kind friend Mr. Crosby," upon which, to his great sur- 
 prise, the old gentleman, with his usual abruptness and 
 with an impatient gesture, walks to the window, and 
 after standing there a few moments, makes one of his 
 hasty retreats, and is seen no more that day. and Charles 
 feels convinced that -he has thought it a liberty in him 
 to venture unasked to introduce a stranger to his notice,
 
 HOME IS HOME. 251 
 
 which occasions him some uneasiness, but he is a good 
 deal cheered by the kind manner of his new friend 
 Carleton, and gladly accepts the kind invitation from 
 Sir Edward ; Miss Htfrtop too is included, and gladly 
 promises to join the party. 
 
 The evening after this meeting at Mrs. Marston's, our 
 old acquaintance Mrs Fairly was looking over the blind 
 of the open window of her own little room at Mr. Ctos- 
 by's. The roses are in rich bloom, and the perfume of 
 the sweet mignionette beneath her window is a most es- 
 pecial delight to the worthy old housekeeper, who is 
 talking to some one on the lawn. " Well, as I was say- 
 ing, Flitters, I can assure you the favor that Master 
 feels for that young gentleman is quite surprising, and I 
 really do think it will end in his coming to live here alto- 
 gether ; well, I like the dear lad, I will own ; but I 
 want to find out why master is so very pertickler fond f 
 him." 
 
 " Didn't you say. Fairly, that your master had a child 
 once? and mightn't this Master Sinclair put him in 
 mind of him some way, don't you think?" said Mrs. 
 Flitters. 
 
 " no." said Fairly. ' ; I cannot find out that ever he 
 had a child, and now that I know he is so fond of his 
 niece's children I think 'tis a sort of insanity like that 
 makes him so anxious after children. Well I declare, 
 there is Master Charles just coming ; however, master's 
 in a fine mood. I can tell him ; and if he can make him in 
 a good humour it's more than I can to-day " And now 
 the bell rings, and Fairly goes to open the door for 
 Charles who enters without saying a word, "places hia 
 hat on the stand, and turns in at the door which leads to
 
 252 HOME IS HOME 
 
 the room we have before described as Mr. Crosby's 
 study. Here, seated in his easy chair, he finds his good 
 old friend, and Charles feels a little vexed at perceiving 
 that he is less warm and cordial than he has been of late ; 
 so the moment Fairly has closed the door, Charles says. 
 " I fear, my dear sir, I have displeased you, and I am 
 come to apologize." 
 
 " No, no, not a bit, my dear boy. I am sadly tired, 
 but have patience with me, and this dark hour will pass 
 away : but be assured you have not vexed me. Come, 
 Charles, sit down ; I like your open, manly ways, my 
 dear boy, and when I see any fault you will not find it 
 out by any churlishness on my part. No, no ; I shall 
 tell you in plain English that I am not pleased, but I 
 am too much your real friend to withdraw from you in 
 anger : and now, Charles, I have made up my mind to 
 tell you the cause of all that you think strange in me, 
 and by and bye you shall hear all my sad story ; but as 
 we shall be interrupted if I begin it immediately, we 
 will for a time defer it. So now ring the bell, and let us 
 have some coffee." 
 
 But the explanation was not then to take place, for 
 almost immediately after the tea-things were withdiawn, 
 Mr. Crosby rose and began to pace the room, and Charlea 
 felt quite shocked at the expression of anguish which 
 the old man's face assumed ; and after a long and inef- 
 fectual struggle, he covered his face with his hands, and 
 sinking into his chair, said in broken accents, " Not now, 
 not now ; another time, dear boy, when I am better, you 
 shall know all, but leave me now :" and Charles gently and 
 kindly soothed him for a few moments, and then obeyed 
 hjs request, and left him alone with his sorrow. But as
 
 HOME IS HOME. 253 
 
 Fairly lighted him to find his hat, he said, " I think youi 
 good master seems very ill to-night, Mrs. Fairly ; per- 
 haps you will see him presently." And Fairly promis- 
 ing to pay him every attention, civilly wished Charles 
 good night as she closed the door. 
 
 Kate's birthday is arrived, and what a s'weet smiling, 
 creature she looks as she enters the elegant morning 
 room where all the party are assembled to greet her with 
 words of love- and affection. Carleton claims her first 
 notice, and then follow her own two little pet sisters 
 Emily and Kose, who bring forward with them sweet 
 Henrietta and Gertrude, and there seated in an easy chair 
 is the patient little Alice, who presents Kate with a lovely 
 nosegay ; and then Sir Edmund and Lady Beauchamp 
 come in to join the group, and Sir Edmund begs her to 
 accept a most elegant watch and chain as a keepsake, 
 and this is the signal for a whole shower of birthday 
 offerings, and Kate is almost overpowered by the kind- 
 ness and affection of all these dear friends. Later in the 
 day her dear father and mother arrive, and soon after 
 Charles makes his appearance, and by the time the dres 
 sjng bell rings, all are become quite intimately acquainted 
 with each other, and Mrs. Sinclair finds herself quite 
 cosily settling plans for Kate with Lady Beauchamp, 
 who half an hour before was a comparative stranger. 
 
 When they met in the drawing-room before dinner, 
 they found only in addition to their family party Miss 
 Hartop and Sir Archibald Munroe, who was evidently 
 greatly surprised at Kate's surpassing beauty, and from 
 the moment she entered the room he devoted the whole 
 of his attention to her. 
 
 As soon as the party were assembled Sir Edmund
 
 254 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 said, " I find, Carleton, you and Sir Archibald have 
 determined to take this opportunity of explaining fully 
 the circumstances which led to his guardianship of you ; 
 and as all who are most interested in this recital are 
 present, I propose that after dinner we meet in my 
 study, in order to hear some papers read on this 
 subject." 
 
 The party having acquiesced, Sir Edmund led the 
 way with Mrs. Sinclair, and all were soon seated at the 
 dinner table : Carleton, of course, was next to Kate, and 
 seeing her look -a little grave, he said, "Do not fear, 
 dearest Kate, I am sure we have nothing to dread from 
 Sir Archibald's statement, and I shall really be quite 
 thankful when I am freed from all sense of mystery and 
 uncertainty." 
 
 Miss Hartop, who was sitting on Carleton's right 
 hand, said, " Perhaps, Mr. Carleton, you would prefer 
 my\ joining the children's party after dinner, for as I 
 am a stranger, you may not like me to be present 
 during the explanation of which Sir Archibald spoke 
 just now?" 
 
 " A stranger, my good lady," said Carleton ; " par- 
 don me, but I am presuming enough to hope that all the 
 friends of Miss Sinclair will permit me to share their 
 kindly feeling, and will extend to me the friendship 
 which heretofore has belonged exclusively to her dear 
 self: no, no, I must indeed consider you, at all events, 
 in the light of an old friend, and I beg you will not 
 hesitate to join us in the study." 
 
 When the ladies left the dining-room they all pro- 
 ceeded at once to Sir Edmund's private study, and here 
 in a few minutes they were joined by the now impatient
 
 HOME IS HOME. 255 
 
 Carleton tnd the rest of the gentlemen, and almost 
 immediately Sir Archibald entered, and placed on 
 the table a small packet containing letters, and a 
 larger one, the contents of which for a time he kept 
 concealed. 
 
 He immediately opened the interesting subject by 
 saying, " I believe I must begin my story, Carleton, 
 from a period which some time preceded my knowledge 
 of you. I was, as you know, in the early part of my 
 life in India for some years, and here it was my good 
 fortune to become the intimate friend of a gentleman 
 who held a very high civil appointment, and who had 
 just married a most lovely and attractive woman ; this 
 friend, whose name was Fortescue, became much attached 
 to me, and I can truly say I felt for him a brother's love, 
 and for three years after his marriage I spent the great- 
 er part of my time in his house. Mrs. Fortescue was 
 some years younger than her husband, and after the birth 
 of a lovely boy she became very delicate, and at length 
 she was ordered to England by her medical advisers, and 
 Fortescue immediately determined to accompany her. 
 On their arrival in this country Fortescue instantly wrote 
 to me, telling me that there appeared but small reason to 
 hope that his beloved wife would be spared, and shortly 
 after I learnt that she was taken from him, and that the 
 child was in a most precarious state. I will not dwell on 
 this part of my story ; the child died, and my friend re- 
 turned to India almost immediately. On his arrival at 
 
 B he sent for me, and I \ffent instantly to him, when 
 
 to my surprise I found him seated in his bungalow with 
 a most interesting and lovely child sleeping in his arms, 
 delicate, frail as the little creature was his beautiful curl-
 
 256 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 ing hair, and long silken eyelashes now softly reposing 
 on his downy cheek, awakened in my mind the liveliest 
 admiration. But Fortescue held out his disengaged 
 hand with such a mournful expression of countenance that 
 I felt this was not a moment for evincing interest in any 
 other but himself ; however, in a few moments he advert- 
 ed to the subject, which certainly was uppermost in my 
 thoughts, and said, ' You are surprised. to see me with 
 this little companion, Munroe ; but I can assure you he 
 is my only comfort now, and by and bye I will tell you 
 all his history.' This he did almost directly, but as I 
 shall read it to you presently in his own words, I will 
 pass it by and proceed to tell you only that this dear 
 child was my friend Harry Carleton. He lived with Mr. 
 Fortescue as his adopted son about five years, and then 
 when I returned to take possession of my estates in Eng- 
 land at my father's death, he was entrusted to my care, 
 and I promised faithfully to superintend his education 
 till his kind friend Mr. Fortescue should claim him at 
 my hands. The parting was a sad one, and my poor 
 friend, who accompanied us to the vessel which was to 
 convey us to England, left his adopted son with an al- 
 most broken heart. Poor Fortescue ! he did not long 
 survive our departure, but before his death, having been 
 apprised by his physicians that he could only live a very 
 few days longer, he made a will in favour of Harry Carle- 
 ton, leaving him the whole of his immense property, but 
 requested that he might not be educated in idleness, and. 
 left to his own decision wn*en he should attain the age of 
 fifteen the choice of his profession, only expressing a 
 hope that he would embrace that of a clergyman : he al- 
 BO reqursted that he night not be told the contents of
 
 HOME IS HOME. 257 
 
 r\^r8 which he committed to my care until his 
 pr^h 'n life V;P.S chosen and his marriage decided upon. 
 I hn e religiously kept my promise, and until this day 
 I have never opened the papers, though I conclude a rep- 
 etition of the story tfh'ch I have beard from my dear 
 friends own lips." 
 
 When Sir Archibald reached this part of his narra- 
 tive Carleton approached the table, and holding out his 
 hand said, " Does this recital give you pain, my dear kind 
 friend ? if so, shall I - " 
 
 u Oh no, dear Harry, not at all, I shall be quite able 
 to fulfil my task ;" aud he opened with trembling hand 
 the packet which contained the interesting letter to which 
 he had referred, and with a faltering voice read as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 " MY DEAR KIND FRIEND, 
 
 " THE time has arrived when I feel it a duty to 
 put you in possession of a written statement respecting 
 the claims which my beloved Carleton has on my 
 affection, and I will endeavour to retrace the circum- 
 stances which gave him to my care. You, who wit- 
 nessed the affection which existed between me and my 
 beloved Constance, my dear, dear wife, will require no 
 words to describe my grief, my heart's sorrow, when it 
 pleased the Almighty to recall her to himself, and when 
 in three short weeks after her death my precious boy, 
 my little Ernest, followed her to the grave. You will 
 I am sure fully understand what was the state of my 
 bereaved heart. I lost no time in taking my passage 
 back to India, determined there to pass 
 of my da' T s, never again to seek to replace liv.
 
 258 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 which I had lost. It is now nearly seven years since 
 I again embarked for this country, our ship was a 
 fine one, and for some time but little occurred to vary 
 the sad monotony of my existence ; I felt like one alone 
 in the world, and though I sought, yes, most earnestly 
 sought to bear my sorrows with Christian resignation, 
 yet I was lonely and wretched, and each day but added 
 to my weight of sorrow. At the end of the seventh 
 week from the day on which we left England, a sudden 
 storm arose, which drove us out of our course, and 
 carried us many degrees westward of our right bearing, 
 and then suddenly ceasing, a great calm arose, and for 
 days we laid almost as still as if we were at anchor ; a 
 burning sun rendered the oppressive heat almost in- 
 supportable, and we were right glad when in the early 
 morning of the third day a light breeze sprung up and 
 carried us once more bounding along over the waves. 
 We had not proceeded far on this day when we espied 
 at a distance what was at first taken by the crew to be 
 a large fish or animal of some kind, but on nearing it 
 we perceived that it was the wreck of a small vessel 
 water logged, and drifting along without sail or rudder, 
 and apparently quite deserted by all her crew. Our cap- 
 tain gave orders to lower a boat, and sent four or five of 
 the best sailors to examine the state of the wreck, and 
 I, glad of some occupation which might afford even a 
 temporary excitement, volunteered to join the party. 
 The weather was delightful, and the boat's crew de- 
 parted in high spirits, for on a long voyage any new 
 adventure is particularly interesting : after rowing for 
 about half an hour we came alongside the unfortunate 
 vessel, which from its appearance we thought must
 
 HOME IS HOME. 259 
 
 have been some days a wreck, and then with some 
 difficulty we contrived to board her. Nothing of any 
 interest presented itself, and we found no papers or 
 any thing which could denote what vessel she was, and 
 the men proposed returning without venturing to ex 
 plore the cabins below, when we thought we heard a 
 faint cry, which one of the sailors pronounced to be 
 that of a dog, and we all with one accord said, "Well, let 
 us give the poor creature help if we can ;" proceeding 
 yith extreme caution we contrived to get down to the 
 cabins ; again a wailing cry met my ear, and I thought 
 surely that is like the wail of a sick child. Alas ! my 
 ear was too well acquainted with such sounds, and I in- 
 stantly directed my steps to the spot from whence I had 
 heard the cry. The door of the cabin was fixed* from 
 the inequalities occasioned by the state of the vessel, 
 but I contrived to wrench it open, and there, stretched 
 on a small cot lay the dead body of a woman, and by 
 her side, with his little curly head nestled upon her 
 cold bosom, rested a little child of perhaps two or even 
 three years old, whose sad weeping countenance and 
 famished form elicited a cry of horror from us all. I 
 seized upon my precious prize, I clasped him in my 
 arms, and as I felt his little frame resting in childlike 
 confidence upon my breast, I felt a thrill of thankful 
 joy and happiness such as I thought could never again 
 have been excited in my sorrow-stricken heart. When 
 we reached our ship I carried him in my arms to my 
 own cabin, and laid him on my couch, and still the poor 
 child spoke not, but clung to me with affectionate ten- 
 derness. Oh. it was almost more than I could bear 
 ho so paitf fully reminded me of my lost child, my own
 
 260 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 little Ernest. Nourishment and constant care in a few 
 days restored life and animation to the poor helpless 
 child, and then he tried to talk to me, though I could 
 not understand all he said, as he was not able to speak 
 plain for the few words he uttered were of a mixed 
 sort of language ; however I thought he called himself 
 ' Harry Carleton,' and by that name he was known all 
 the rest of our voyage ; it was quite understood by 
 every one that I had adopted the dear child whom I 
 vowed I would never forsake. When we reached 
 Calcutta I was obliged immediately to go up the coun- 
 try a long distance, and of course my new treasure 
 accompanied me; sweet, dear boy, he was the solace 
 of my life. And now, my child, I am told that we 
 shall meet no more in this life. May the Lord God 
 be thy Protector when I am gone." 
 
 Sir Archibald here ceased reading ; Carleton had long 
 since retreated to a dark corner of the room, where his 
 emotion would pass unobserved, and all the rest of the 
 party bad been sympathizing with tears of unfeigned 
 feeling. 
 
 Sir Archibald in a few moments said, " At the same 
 time that I received the letter from which I have read 
 this narrative my good friend sent me some little arti- 
 cles of dress which had been preserved, and a miniature 
 with a small gold chain which is I conclude that of my 
 dear Carleton's mother, and if you like to see them 1 
 will produce them now." 
 
 Every one approached the table when Sir Archibald 
 opened the parcel which he had placed there and took 
 from it a beautiful little velvet frock richly embroidered,
 
 HO ME IS HOME. 26 1 
 
 and some small cambric shirts, and then he placed in 
 Carleton's hands the miniature of which he had spoken ; 
 it represented a lady whose olive complexion and bril- 
 liant dark eyes somewhat resembled Carleton's, and with 
 a beating heart he felt that he was looking on the por- 
 trait cf his mother. 
 
 After having allowed a sufficient time for the party in 
 some measure to recover from the effects which this 
 story had left on the minds of all who were so deeply 
 interested in its hero, Miss Hartop broke the silence by 
 saying, " Strange as it may appear, indeed, to me it looks 
 like a direct interposition of Providence ; I am per- 
 suaded that I have heard a tale which bears so iniimate 
 a connexion with the one to which we have just been 
 listening, that I cannot think I should be justified in 
 withholding it." And on being eagerly entreated by 
 Carleton to tell him all she knew, she as succinctly as 
 possible related the story which some months before she 
 had heard from the old almshouse woman at Grays- 
 brook ; and great was the interest which it excited in 
 the minds of all, as though there existed no proof that 
 Carleton was indeed the hero of old Nanny's tale, it 
 certainly seemed more than possible that such might 
 prove the case, and after much consideration aud dis- 
 cussion, Miss Hartop promised to write to the clergyman 
 at Graysbrook to enquire whether the old woman still 
 lived, and should his answer be a favorable one she 
 would immediately go and see her and learn from her 
 own lips the names of her former master and his family. 
 
 The short remainder of this eventful evening was 
 passed in much interesting conversation, and before the 
 party separated, Kate had blushingly given her consent
 
 262 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 to Carleton's naming a day for their approaching nup- 
 tials, and it was decided that they should be solemnized 
 on the fifth of August. 
 
 The unusual absence of her Master and Mistress left 
 Honor for the first time fSr many months with some hours 
 at her own disposal; t^j children were absent, and in 
 fact Honor, like Othello, found u her occupation gone. " 
 At first she thought this would be a delightful holiday, 
 but after putting every room in neat order, and even 
 preparing the studio for the next morning, she found it 
 was only four o'clock, and the silence of the house be- 
 c line Tjuite oppressive ; so she hastily tied on her pretty 
 little straw bonnet and ran down to Miss Moffat's apart- 
 ments, and opening the door, said, " Och thin, Miss Mof- 
 fat, I'm bothered intirely with the pace and quietness up 
 there now the Masther and all is gone, and will ye be so 
 kind as to let Maggie just give the word to the milkman 
 when he comes, for troth I'm just famished for the wants 
 of a breath o' the air of heaven, and I'll may be like a 
 riEufor half an hour." 
 
 xo this Miss Moffat most kindly assented, and said, 
 " Ye are a just a gude lassie, Honor, and ye deserve 
 muckle consideration, and weel may ye sped, for we'll 
 just see all canny while ye are away." 
 
 Merrily then did the blithe and honest hearted girl 
 trip down the steps, and then pause a moment to loot 
 up and down the street, as if to consider on the course 
 she would pursue ; but presently her decision seems made, 
 and she takes her way towards Mrs. Crump's shop, and 
 there finds the old woman in her usual place ; but the shop 
 is now decorated with bunches of beautiful summer flow-
 
 HOME IS HOME. 263 
 
 ers. and smells luxuriously of fine fruit and summer sal- 
 ads and vegetables; cool and pleasant is Mrs. Crump's 
 shop on this hot July afternoon, for it is on the shauy 
 side of the street, and it has been frequently sprinkled 
 with cold water, and as Honor enters she says, "Well. 
 Mrs. Crump, but ye are a jewel of a woman, that's for 
 sartain, for your cool shop is just the very temple of de- 
 light this dreadful hot day, an' I'll sit with ye a bit if 
 ye're not too busy, for our folks is all gone to a grand din- 
 ner party and its dull enough, I am all alone by meself." 
 
 ' : Gone to a dinner are they, Honor ? " enquired Mrs. 
 Crump, with wonder painted on her broad, good-humoured 
 face ' Gone out to a party are they ?" and then, inter- 
 rupted by the arrival of a customer, she pinned up her 
 band, and obligingly weighed some cherries, popping the 
 stray ones which fell from the scales into her capacious 
 mouth ; and then when the girl was gone she offered a 
 little bunch to Honor, who thanked her kindly and said, 
 " Well, they do cry come eat me, that's the 7 truth. Mrs. 
 Crump, and I'm intirely obleeged to ye." 
 
 So they continued to eat their cherries for a few 
 moments, and to chat about the doings of the Sinclair 
 party. " And so they're all gone to a party ; well, Hon 
 or, times, seems changed, don't they ? come, you may as 
 well tell me, my lass, for I hear you are a going to have a 
 wcddin' in your family." 
 
 " Ah, now surely ye wouldn't be asking me the sa- 
 crets of the swate Miss Kate ; och, thin I'll not tell ye a 
 word at all at all, bad manners to me to think of spaking 
 of the likes of her." 
 
 " Oh, then it is Miss Kate, is it, Honor ? Well I dare 
 Bay it's all true then what I heard, and I won't ask you
 
 264 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 any thing more on the subject ; but I wish 'em luck, and 
 whenever she's married, Honor, mind you throw an old 
 shoe after 'em : that's a sacret you Irish bodies didn't 
 know, I'll wager a penny.' But look here, who's this a 
 coming ? well, who'd a thought it, my gal ? why, if 
 'tisn't Mr. ziurory himself!" and Kory it was indeed 
 who now entered the little fruit shop, panting with heat 
 and redder than his neckerchief; but as he approached 
 Honor she blushed and tossed her pretty head and said, 
 ' : Oh thin, Mr. Rory, ye've found yer own sweet self at 
 last ; maybe ye don't know that it's a week since you 
 found your way to this part of the world." 
 
 " Ah thin, Honor," answered her lover, " don't be 
 after twitting me with what has been the sorrow of 
 my days entirely : sure hasn't the mother of me been 
 lying on her sick bed, and would I lave the poor blessed 
 ould creature to be afther saking my own pleasure, let 
 alone yours, my sw.eet Honor. There now, ask Mrs. 
 Crump if them frowns is becoming to ye." 
 
 " Och Rory, I'm sorry I didn't know that your poor 
 mother was bad : and is she better now ? and will she be 
 getting about again ?" 
 
 " Why, that's kind again, and I knowed ye wouldn't 
 be angered when ye knowed the truth ; but come now, 
 don't be telling a fib, for I seen ye Monday, an' this is 
 only Thursday, me lannen. Come, come, make up all 
 quarrels, and come and take a bit of a walk, for it'll be 
 a nice evening after the heat do lave scalding us all to 
 the death of one." 
 
 Mrs. Crumb, kind soul, had seen clouds gathering on 
 Honor's pretty face from the mornet when Rory first pre- 
 sented himself, and finding that interminable band re-
 
 HOME IS HOME. 265 
 
 quired entire readjustment, she had retired to an inner 
 room, leaving the lovers to settle their quarrels ; and now, 
 as she sees a prospect of a termination to this unusual 
 fracas, she came smilingly forth all tight and tidy, and 
 insisting upon their accepting some nice ripe fruit to 
 eat as they pursue their evening ramble, and with many 
 thanks and friendly good wishes to good natured Mrs. 
 Crumb, Honor and Rory emerge into the street and 
 
 rapidly pursue their way towards Park. And as 
 
 they walk, kind and iovinc chat takes place between them, 
 and Rory asks Honor now much longer she " manes to 
 keep him a poor lonely desarted bachelor?" 
 
 To which Honor replies, " Arrah be aisy wid yer 
 tazing nonsense, Rory, how can I lave them now, they 
 wouldn't like a stranger to see all their troubles ; but wait 
 a bit, Rory dear, I'll not desave ye ; I," and here she 
 lowered her voice to a whisper, " I love ye truly, dearly, 
 Rory, and I'll not deny that its a bit of a trial to me to 
 put ye off so long, but its dufy, Rory, its duty, and by 
 the Lord's blessing I'll strive to do what's right and 
 just." 
 
 " That's just like yourself, mavoarneen, and it shall 
 niver be said that Rory tempted ye away from your duty: 
 but now, machree, look here," and forth from his pocket 
 Rory drew the well known little purse, and took from 
 it a five pound note, and held it up to her astonished 
 gaze. 
 
 " Why, Rory, sure but you've dalings with the c good 
 people ;' but tell me, asthore, where could ye get such a 
 sight of money all at onct ?" 
 
 " Well then, Honor, my darling, it was given to me 
 for your dear sake the last time iver I seen ye, and I've 
 12
 
 266 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 been longing to tell ye all about it. Last Monday I 
 conies to jour door, and I sees little blue-eyed Maggie 
 with her sweet little kind face, so I says, ' Maggie,' says 
 I, ' where's Honor ?' ' Och,' says shej ' she's up stairs 
 and there's dear Miss Kate up there, and siccan a fin 
 young gentleman,' says she, ' oh he is such a beautify' 
 young man, and Miss Moffat says she's sure and sartin 
 he's a going to marry Miss Kate ; well, I pricked up my 
 ears like at this, and I thought thinks I, ' Well, I inust 
 try to catch a glimpse of them parties,' so I waited, and I 
 hoped I'd soon see your own dear face, but ye was so 
 busy ; well thin I went to Mrs. Crumb's, and there I 
 staid a bit; and then I wandered back again to your end 
 of the street, and then I stole up the stups again, but 1 
 hadn't courage to go in ; so in a moment out comes Miss 
 Kate, and took me all by surprise like, and she says, ir 
 her own kind way, ' Ah, Rory, is that you ?' she says, so 
 I made a leg and pulled off my hat and says, ' Shure, 
 Miss Kate, 3 says I, ' and by your lave,' says I, ' its meself 
 entirely, and its glad I am to see ye looking so bright 
 and so beautiful in health,' says I. ' and may ye niver 
 look worse,' says I. ' Thank ye, Rory,' says she, and 
 turning round to a grand looking fine young gentleman 
 as was following her, she says, ' Oh, Mr. Cawlting,' she 
 says, ' this is Rory,' and I heard her whisper something 
 about ' good Honor.' ' Oh,' he says, mighty sweet, ' thir 
 is good Honor's lover is it ? Ah my lad,' he says, ' you'!' 
 have a jewel of a wife, and I hope you'll have many years 
 of happiness with her,' he saysj and then he puts Miss 
 Kate on before him, and slips back as if he was looking 
 for his walking stick, and he says, ' Xow my good fellow, 
 you'll like to give your pretty Honor a nice new gown of
 
 H O M E I S H O M L . . 267 
 
 something when the wedding day comes,' and by the 
 powers he puts this beautiful note for money into roy 
 hand, and runs after Miss Kate like a will-o'-the-wisp. 
 So now, ruavouvneen, onct more I've got the manes of 
 buying that little band of gold which '11 make me the 
 happiest boy in all the world beknown and unbeknown, 
 and soon I hope ye'll say, Rory, I'll give ye lave to 
 buy it." 
 
 Honor now told her lover that she too had a trifle 
 to add to this immense wealth, for tha. her dear Miss 
 Kate had given her three bright gold sovereigns, and 
 before their walk was ended they had in imagination 
 furnished a cottage, provided stores of clothing and 
 comforts for the poor old mother, and performed a thou- 
 sand acts befitting their kind and generous natures, ap- 
 parently unwilling to believe that their riches would 
 ever be exhausted. 
 
 On the evening which succeeded Kate's birth-day 
 Charles went to visit his friend Mr. Crosby, who re- 
 ceived him with much warmth and kindness, and told 
 him that he felt almost ashamed of having been be- 
 trayed into so much emotion when last they met, but 
 he added, " I hope now, my dear boy, I shall feel quite 
 equal to the effort which I promised to make, and 
 if you are really interested in such a surly old fellow 
 as you know me to be, why I will tell you some of 
 the causes which have driven me to take refuge in a 
 manner which is I confess somewhat foreign to my na- 
 ture, though I do not promise to tell you all the partic- 
 ulars of my past life ; but come, Charles, it is a close 
 warm evening, you shall place my chair near the win- 
 'dow, and we will take a glass of wine while I tell you 
 my story "
 
 268 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 With ready alacrity Charles made the proposed ar- 
 rangement, and then seating himself near his friend he 
 listened to him with Affectionate attention while he 
 spoke as follows : " I am the younger son of a baro- 
 net, Charles, but as I have a brother still living, a 
 stronger and abler man than myself, I am not likely 
 to succeed to a title which for many long years has 
 belonged to my family. When I was a lad of your age, 
 ay, and at that time much of your character and tem- 
 perament, I was a great favourite with an uncle, a- 
 brother of my dear mother's; this excellent "man had 
 very large estates in the West Indies, and having as it 
 were adopted me, he took me with him to Barbadoes, 
 where the principal part of his property was situated, 
 and I lived with him till I was five-and-twenty, making, 
 of course, some occasional trips to England at intervals. 
 When this kind uncle died, he left me the whole of his 
 property, and I determined to remain some years in the 
 island j ten years passed and found me still unmarried, 
 but soon afterwards I met with a young Portuguese lady 
 of good family, and of exquisite beauty and sweetness 
 of manner. I will not tire you, Charles, .by recounting 
 the progress of my attachment to this lady, suffice it 
 that at the end of about a year after we first met she 
 became my wife, and very shortly afterwards we came to 
 England, and I took possession of this house, which was 
 part of the property I inherited from my uncle ; here 
 we lived in perfect happiness for two years at the end 
 of which time my dear wife became so delicate in health 
 that I was advised to take her to a warmer climate. A 
 long voyage was recommended, and I decided on visiting 
 Borne of my far-off estates. We reached our destina-
 
 HOME 13 HOME. 269 
 
 tion, and she rallied considerably, indeed, for a year she 
 was apparently in good health, and then. Charles, a dear 
 child a precious boy was born to us. he was too 
 dear, too much the idol of my heart !" Here Mr. Crosby 
 rose and paced the room in much agitation. " Charles, 
 I have no courage to proceed, I lost her my wife 
 died, and my boy, my precious boy, was miserably 
 drowned !....! cannot look back ; I believfi 
 for two or three years I lost my senses ; I went abroad, 
 I became a miser ; in imagination I was hoarding for 
 my boy my little one ! time, time, Charles, restored ine 
 in some measure, and my mind resumed its balance, but 
 the bags of hoarded wealth still tempted me, and had it 
 not been that the portals of my stony heart ever gave 
 way at the sight of children, and their little griefs and 
 sorrows let loose the floodgates of my frozen tears, I 
 would have found no way to escape the sin which then 
 beset me. You will now understand better how I came 
 so deeply and tenderly interested in your little Henry, 
 he was more like my own lost darling than any I had 
 ever seen, and for the few short months of his little life, 
 I could never cease to follow him and watch for him ; 
 and in you, my dear boy, although I can trace no per- 
 sonal likeness, yet I delight in feeling that I am beloved 
 by a young and ardent mind, and I cheat myself into the 
 hope that you will be a son to me in future years." 
 
 Many, many times' had Charles longed to interrupt 
 the narrative ; could it be ? Could there exist a proba- 
 bility, that the story to which he had listened only a few 
 short hours before was indeed connected with the one he 
 had now heard ? Yet, in one or two points there cer- 
 tainly appeared some similarity in the train of events ;
 
 .270 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 however, as these thoughts glanced through his mind, 
 they were accompanied by the fear of exciting false hopes 
 in the mind of his old friend ; and after all, he had not 
 mentioned the way in which he had lost his wife and 
 little son. and he dared ask no further questions at that 
 moment : he therefore discreetly abstained from saying 
 a^word on the subject which engrossed his every thought ; 
 but as soon as Mr. Crosby ceased speaking, he drew his 
 chair close by him, and putting his head on his shoulder, 
 as if he had been indeed his son, he took him by the 
 hand and thanked him, with much emotion, for his kind 
 and affectionate confidence in him ; unselfish, and with- 
 out a single interested motive in his heart, Charles feared 
 no misinterpretation of his feelings when he said, " And 
 let me strive to fill the void in your heart which these 
 sad trials have occasioned ; I will promise, my dear Sir, 
 to fulfil, to the utmost of my power, every wish you 
 may express, and to obey you af I would my fa- 
 ther." 
 
 " I believe you, my dear boy, and I do sincerely hope 
 that for the rest of my short days in this world you will 
 be to me what at your age I was to my dear kind old 
 uncle ; but come, come, Charles, I have been selfishly 
 making your young heart sad, and had I not thought it 
 right to let you understand my character aright before 
 you become my adopted son, I should not have troubled 
 you with my sad tale ; and now let your confidence in 
 me be unrestrained, and come to me as if you were in- 
 deed my son." 
 
 At this moment Fairly opened the door and said, 
 k Shall I bring > candles, sir?" and they suddenly disco- 
 vered that for some little time the moon had afforded
 
 HOME IS HOME. 27i 
 
 them their only light. The interruption occasioned by 
 her entrance put a stop to the conversation, and Charles 
 soon after took his leave. 
 
 As he plodded homewards his mind naturally revert- 
 ed to the story he had just heard, and much as he loved 
 his kind old friend, lie could not but observe and lament 
 the total absence of all reference to any Christian feeling 
 or religious impression, but he thought, " Some men are, 
 I know, silent on such subjects, even though they really 
 influence their lives and conduct. Yet surely if he had 
 in a Christian spirit submitted with resignation to the 
 will of God, would he not have found peace, and long 
 ere this have seen and acknowledged the wisdom and 
 mercy of His dispensations. How differently have my 
 dear parents and sweet Kate borne their trials and afflic- 
 tions ! still it is not for me. so young as I am / to sit in 
 judgment on a man of his age. And then, too, he has 
 evinced so many good qualities and traits of disposition 
 that I cannot but hope his heart is under the guidance 
 of religious principles, and I trust he will prove all that 
 I could wish." Thus Charles soliloquised, but soon 
 came the longing desire to discover whether old Nanny'b 
 story was in any way connected with that he had just 
 heard from Mr. Crosbv. 
 
 11' 

 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE next day's post brought Miss Harrop a letter 
 from the clergyman at Graysbrook, stating that olcf Nanny 
 was living and in good health, and on communicating 
 this intelligence to Carleton and the rest of the party 
 who were interested, it was arranged that Miss Hartop, 
 with Charles as her escort, should immediately go to 
 Graysbrook, and if she had reason to believe, from old 
 Nanny's statements, that Carleton was the son of her 
 former master, she should if possible bring the old 
 woman to London in order to obtain from her as much 
 information as possible repecting his parents. It was 
 thought expedient, too, that Miss Hartop should take 
 with her the miniature which had been transmitted by 
 Mr. Fortescue, and also some portion of the wearing 
 apparel. And how Charles's ardent heart leapt as 
 he thought of the possibility which existed that his 
 kind old friend's future happiness might depend an the 
 result of this mission ; yet boy as he was, no word or 
 look betrayed that he had any particular inttrest beyoud 
 whnt others felt on the occasion. 
 
 A brilliant morning dawned on the day so interesting 
 to Charles and his fellow traveller, and by eight o'clock 
 they were well on their way to Graysbrook, and although 
 at this hour it was deliciously cool and pleasant, they
 
 HOME IS HOME. 2T3 
 
 very gladly exchanged the dusty streets and toads for 
 for the widely-extending commons and bright hills of 
 Surrey, and merrily they chatted as they journeyed 
 towards the pretty village which Miss Hartop always 
 called " her home." Th'e distance from London to 
 Graysbrook was about thirty miles, and it was early in 
 the afternoon that the carriage .turned down a narrow 
 lane, when the sight of the little spire of her favorite 
 church was welcomed by Miss Hartop with its usual 
 share of interest. " Here we are then, Charles ; sec there 
 is the dear little church ! and now soon we shall pass by 
 the almshouse ; but anxious as I am to see my poor old 
 woman, we must not take her by surprise, so we will 
 drive to my cottage first ; and now the village green 
 appears, and there is the old Maypole with its withered 
 garlands still hanging on it to remind us of the festivi- 
 ties of May-day, and the school-house. Look, Charles, 
 there are some of the dear good people. Ah, I see my 
 arrival will not long be a secret." 
 
 Kindly she nodded or spoke to the villagers as she 
 passed them, and was greeted with many a heartfelt " God 
 bless you." Soon the carriage stops at the White Cot- 
 tage, the steps are let down, and Charles hands out his 
 kind-hearted companion, and by the time they enter the 
 little white gate many of the poor people have assem- 
 bled to catch a glimpse, and receive a word of kind recog- 
 nition from their respected benefactress, Miss Hartop, 
 who, in the flurry of her spirits, has left the precious 
 packet in the carriage, and Charles has to run after it iu 
 all the heat, as it is now spinning down the hill to the 
 little inn, where the postboy hopes to find a shelter from 
 the heat for himself and his tired horses. 
 12*
 
 274 HOME IS HO ME. 
 
 After a few moments passed in consultation as to 
 the best means of gaining the intelligence which they 
 desired from old Nanny, Miss Hartop and Charles set 
 out on their -walk to the almshouse. On arriving Lt the 
 gate, they paused a moment to admire the bright luxu- 
 riance of the little gardens now filled with lovely sum- 
 mer flowers, perfuming the air with their delicious 
 fragrance ; and Charles, who for some time had been 
 much confined to the streets of London, was quite in rap- 
 tures at the sweet country scenes around him. At this 
 moment, " Nanny, the Queen," appeared at her open 
 door. She stood for a moment in the sunlight, sha- 
 ding her eyes with her hand from the too sudden 
 effect of the light, resting as usual on her large staff 
 for support, and peering forth to see who were the 
 strangers at the garden gate. On seeing Nanny, Miss 
 Hartop walked rapidly towards her, and taking her by 
 the hand, was received by the faithful creature with her 
 usual warmth and affection : and with unfeigned delight 
 she said, " Oh, my dear lady, is it you indeed 1 Well, 
 this is a pleasure, surely ; but I hope, Miss, nothing has 
 happened wrong like to bring you back again so quick ?" 
 
 " Oh no, Nanny, nothing : I had a reason for wishing 
 to pass a few hours here, but I hope to return to Mrs. 
 Marston to-morrow. I am now come to sit a little while 
 with you, in your nice, cool room : but first I must speak 
 to that young gentleman. By the bye r Nanny, that is 
 Mr. Charles Sinclair, of whom you have so often heard." 
 By this time, Charles, obeying a slight signal from Miss 
 Hartop, joined them, and speaking kindly to the old 
 woman, they all three entered the house together. 
 
 After a few moments of desultory conversation, dur
 
 -, H o M E i s ii o at E . 275 
 
 ing which Miss Hartop was endeavouring ..o lead to tho 
 subject of her 1 visit, she said, " Do you remember my 
 long visit to you en that cold winter evening, Nanny ', 
 I have often thought with much interest of the sad tale 
 you told me on that occasion: but you did not tell me 
 the name of your old master ; should you mind telling 
 me ? I much wish to hear it." 
 
 " Oh, ma'am ! Oh, Miss Hartop ! don't, oh please 
 don't talk of that sad business. I can't, iudeed I can't 
 toll anything more about it." Old Nanny paused j then, 
 trembling with emotion, she rocked herself backwards 
 and forwards in her high-backed chair, and looked dis- 
 tressed and agitated. 
 
 " Well, well, Nanny, I did not mean to vex you, and 
 I am sorry I have given you pain ; but I have a reason, 
 which I will explain at another time, for asking you this 
 question : believe me it was not dictated by mere curi- 
 osity." 
 
 " Oh no, Miss," said Nanny, " I know you too well 
 to think it c"ould be that ; but you know, Miss, I always 
 avoid to talk of that time, and HIS name I have never 
 let pass my lip since then ; still, I know I ought not 
 to refuse your father's child any thing she may desire. 
 Again there was a silence, and then with an effort 
 which seemed almost to paralyze the pr or creature, she 
 said, " Well, Miss, God's will be done : his name was 
 Carlington" 
 
 This was a death-blow to poor Charles' hopes, yet 
 to Miss Hartop it brought an almost certainty that 
 Henry Carleton was indeed the son of Nanny's master, 
 although from his imperfect speaking at the time when 
 he was found in the wreck, the name had been slightly
 
 276 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 altered. Proceeding now very -cautiously, she soon 
 quite satisfied herself that she was right in this con- 
 jecture, and presently she ventured to show the minia- 
 ture to Nanny, which to her satisfaction and delight 
 was instantly recognized as that of the dearly-loved 
 mother of the lost child. Although pained and grieved 
 at witnessing the agitation with which the disclosure 
 was received, Miss Hartop now gradually informed 
 Nanny that Carleton lived and that she should soon see 
 him ! Poor Nanny ! how she wept and clasped those 
 withered hands, and blessed God for permitting such 
 happy tidings to be brought. 
 
 Miss Hartop left her a few moments, that she might 
 recover her composure, and then it was settled that she 
 should return with them to London, and on the follow- 
 ing day they all arrived in safety at Sir Edmund's, 
 where Nanny was most kindly received ; but as she had 
 already endured so much unusual excitement and fa- 
 tigue, Lady Beauchamp directed that she should re- 
 main quietly in the neat little room which had been 
 prepared for her, and requested that she might not be 
 disturbed for some hours. Meanwhile Carleton was 
 apprised of what had occurred, and learned with much 
 interest that his old nurse had recognized the miniature 
 of his mother, though he much regretted that no clue 
 had been obtained by which he might discover who his 
 parents were, and whether his father still was living. 
 
 In a few hours old Nanny was sufficiently recovered 
 to admit of her seeing her " dear young master,'- 1 as she 
 already designated Carleton : and as it was evident she 
 was impatiently pining for the interview it was no 
 longer delayed ; when he entered the room she rose to
 
 HOME S HOME. 277 
 
 meet him, and tried to receive him with the respect due 
 to a stranger and a gentleman ; but at the sight of 
 him all restraint gave way, and suddenly grasping the 
 hand which he had extended to her, she sunk into a 
 chair, and covering her face she wept aloud. For a 
 time the silence was unbroken save by her bursting 
 sobs, and scarcely could Carleton withhold his sympa- 
 thising tears. He did not withdraw the hand which 
 the poor creature detained with all the fcndn'ess which 
 for so many years had been treasured in her heart, 
 patiently awaiting her recovery from this first outpour- 
 ing of long restrained feeling. -At length she spoke. 
 and " blessed the hour" when the " sin of murder" 
 was taken from her burthened conscience. " Yes," she 
 said in answer to some soothing words of Carleton. 
 " yes, I always in my heart considered that my selfish 
 want of care occasioned the death of my precious little 
 charge, and I have ever thought of myself as little 
 better than a murderer. Oh, sir ! never since that aw- 
 ful day have I laid down in peace ; but let me look at 
 you, let me besure that there is no mistake. Yes," she 
 said, after a close examination of his features, " yes, I 
 thank God his likeness to my dear, dear mistress is suffi- 
 cient proof; but when I remember, too, that I put 
 that picture of his mother round his little neck the 
 day she died, and taught him to talk to it, and call it 
 by her name, I can have no doubt that this is, indeed, 
 my dear " Master Herbert." 
 
 " Herbert ! is that my name ?" asked Carleton. 
 
 " Yes, sir, you were named Herbert after an uncle of 
 niy master's, and your name is Carlington." 
 
 Many were the interesting questions which followed.
 
 278 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 Jmt old Nanny could tell him nothing of his father,c i whom 
 she said she had not heard for many years, but that when 
 last she had heard his name mentioned she was told he 
 was gone abroad. And now perceiving that this agi- 
 tating interview had somewhat fatigued her, and fearing 
 that her mind would not bear so much excitement, Carle- 
 ton took his leave, promising to visit her every day if 
 she wished to see him. 
 
 Old Nanny soon became a great favourite with Rate 
 and the children, and it was delightful to witness her 
 happiness and pleasure as she sat in her comfortable 
 chair surrounded by a group of the family party, all de- 
 sirous to show her kindness and respect. As to Carle- 
 ton, or as we must now call him, Carlington, he never 
 tired of asking h6r questions and gathering from her an- 
 swers descriptions of his parents, their home and mode 
 of life : and he dwelt with delight on her account of his 
 mother," who was, she told him, " A lovely lady, " and 
 " you, Mr. Herbert, are the very moral of her. " This 
 caused much merriment to the young ones, and Nanny 
 cheerfully joined in the laugh, though she did not com- 
 prehend its cause. On one subject only was Nanny re- 
 served, she still evidently dreaded meeting her old mas- 
 ter, and seldom mentioned his name : nor could any ar- 
 gument remove from her mind the painful feelings which 
 she still indulged on the subject. 
 
 Charles was so busily engaged at this time at his of- 
 fice, that he was unable to pursue the investigation which 
 so much interested him. At length one morning, finding 
 himself unexpectedly at leisure for a few hours, he deci- 
 ded upon putting in execution a little scheme which, for 
 some days, he had been silently contemplating : and en.
 
 HOME IS HOM I. 279 
 
 tering old Nanny's room at Sir Edmund Beauchamp's, 
 he said in a rapid manner, " Come, NanLy, I want you 
 to put yourself under my guidance and go out with me 
 for I have something to show you that will, I think, in- 
 terest you very much, and you ought to see a little of 
 this great town, so come along." 
 
 " Oh, sir !" said Nanny, " you are all so good to 
 me, but surely you wouldn't go out with a poor old 
 almshouse woman, would you?" 
 
 " And why not, pray ? I shall be quite delighted," 
 said Charles : " and depend upon it I will take as much 
 care of you as if you were my own old nurse. Come, 
 I will have a nice carriage at the door in half an hour, 
 and, mind, I won't take anybody but you." 
 
 " Well, well-a-day, and so I am to go out riding, am 
 I, Master Charles ? what would the folks at dear Grays- 
 brook think of such an honour? well, sir, I shall be 
 quite ready : but I s'pose, sir, you'll tell my lady and 
 dear Master Herbert that I am going." 
 
 ' never mind about that, leave that all to me, 
 T shall arrange everything ;" and away ran Charles 
 quite pleased at having met with so little opposition 
 to this part of his plan. At the time appointed old 
 Nanny , made her appearance in her neat blue cloth 
 gown and old-fashioned black silk bonnet ; her long 
 black mittens were drawn tightly up to the elbows, 
 and in compliment to Charles she had put on a fine 
 clear muslin apron, a relic of former days, which be- 
 came her mightily and added much to her singular 
 a -id picturesque appearance. Charles placed her com- 
 fortably in the carriage which he had brought to the 
 door, but having taken advantage of Lady Beauchamp'a
 
 280 HOME IS HOME 
 
 being gone out with Kate, he had not told any one 
 of what he called his intended abduction of Miss 
 Nanny Meadows. Having given all needful instruc- 
 tions to the man who drove them, they now proceeded 
 rapidly through the streets of London. Charles talked 
 kindly and pleasantly, and pointed out to his com- 
 panion everything which he thought might afford her 
 interest or amusement. On, on they went, and to all 
 inquiries as to their destination he was impenetrably 
 deaf. At last he saw that they were rapidly approach- 
 ing the place to which he was conducting her, and he 
 leant forward, and looking up in Nanny's face, began 
 to talk rapidly to her, and diverted her attention till 
 the right moment should arrive for the execution of his 
 little scheme. At length the carriage suddenly stopped. 
 " Now, Nanny ,".said Charles, " dear old woman, tell me, 
 do you know that house ?" 
 
 Nanny looked, clasped her hands, and sank back, 
 uttering a feeble cry ; for one moment she was speech- 
 less, and then almost in a tone of terror she said, " 0, 
 sir, I cannot look upon that place, I cannot enter those 
 gates. yes, yes, it is indeed my poor master's 
 house ! but how could I venture to see him, should he 
 be living still, even now ? He would not, I am sure, 
 endure the sight of one that has caused him so much 
 sorrow." 
 
 Charles soothed and tranquillised her as best he 
 could, and then gently handing her from the carriage, 
 he led her round by the back entrance to Mrs. Fairly's 
 room, explaining as they went that he would spare her 
 any further pain for the present, but that he wished her 
 to sit half an hour with a kind person who would take
 
 HOME IS HOME. 281 
 
 care of her till he returned. He then left her for a 
 few minutes, and having found Fairly, he gained her 
 permission to bring Nanny to sit in her room while he 
 himself saw Mr. Crosby. The poor old woman had 
 scarcely recovered the shock which the sight of her 
 master's home had occasioned her. and she sat in silence, 
 not recognising the room into which she had been 
 brought from its having undergone considerable change 
 since she last saw it ; and thus, though she knew she was 
 very near the place where she once had lived so hap- 
 pily, she did not comprehend that she really was under 
 the roof of her /'injured master," as she still called 
 him. Charles, having seen her comfortably settled, now 
 went in search of Mr. Crosby, and proceeded at once to 
 the library. Here he found his old friend busily 
 engaged in writing letters. He looked up when Charles 
 entered, and holding out his hand, said, " Ah, my dear 
 boy, I scarcely thought you would come so early, though 
 I was glad to find from your note that you "were at 
 leisure this afternoon ; but come, sit down, I have 
 nearly finished my letters, and. then "I shall be quite 
 disengaged." 
 
 A few minutes of silent reflection enabled Charles to 
 decide on the course he would pursue. It was evident 
 that his conjectures had been correct, and that in his 
 dear good old friend Carlington would find a father, but 
 he felt that much caution must be employed in announc- 
 ing this joyful news to Mr Crosby lest the surprise 
 should prove too much for his already disturbed mind 
 and feeble frame. As soon, therefore, as the letters 
 were finished and Mr. Crosby said that " now he was at 
 liberty," Charles drew his chair close to his side and
 
 282 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 said, " My object in visiting you to-day, sir, was chiefly 
 that I might have a little conversation with you about 
 my dear sister." 
 
 " Ah, a very nice sweet girl, indeed ; I don't often 
 take fancies, but I may tell you, Charles, that her good 
 and dutiful conduct has won my sincere admiration : 
 she is unlike most women, I think ; there are but few 
 who are worth one's affection, I believe." 
 
 " Well, then," said Charles, " I am sure you will be 
 pleased when I tell you that she will soon be united 
 to the young man whom you saw with her at Mrs. 
 Marston's." 
 
 " Hey, what ! married ! what, to that young man 
 with the dark curling hair ! Well, well, I'm glad of it 
 I liked his face. Ah those eyes of his have pursued 
 my thoughts ever since. Yes, yes, I shall feel an inte- 
 rest in him and what is his name, Charles?" 
 
 " His name is Carlington." 
 
 At this name Mr. Crosby started and trembled vio- 
 lently, then turning suddenly he seized both of Charles's 
 hands, and looking earnestly in his face said, " Young 
 man, take care ! you dare not trifle with me ; what 
 mean you ? You are agitated, speak ! wJw, who is 
 this dark-eyed stranger? my name, too, is Carlington! 
 Can it, God ! can it be that he whom I so long have 
 mourned is to be restored to me ? Speak, speak, 
 Charles, and torture me not with this dreadful sus- 
 pense !" 
 
 Charles knelt by his side and gently supported him 
 while he said, " Be calm, be firm, dear friend, I will not 
 deceive you ; I have much reason to hope that this 
 happ"*ess will be yours."
 
 HOME IS HOME. 283 
 
 " Mr. Crosby spoke not, and so rigid were his features 
 and his frame so still, that Charles felt alarmed lest the 
 shock had destroyed him. After a time, however, ho 
 recovered, and was able to listen to Charles's narrative 
 by which he felt clearly convinced that Carlington was 
 indeed his long-lost son. In the course of their inter- 
 esting conversation Mr. Crosby told Charles that his 
 name originally was Carlington, but he said, " when I 
 lost him who should have inherited this name I felt so 
 great a repugnance to hearing it that I resolved to assume 
 that of my uncle, Mr. Herbert Crosby, and when I re- 
 turned, after a residence of ten years more in the West 
 Indies', I was so much altered that no one recognized me 
 as Mr. Carlington, and I have never since resumed the 
 name." 
 
 Charles now went to fetch old Nanny, who, although 
 at first greatly alarmed when she was told that her mas- 
 ter still lived and wished to see her, did not long oppose 
 Charles's request that she would let him conduct her to 
 his presence : and she was soon made happy by an affec- 
 tionate assurance that she was "quite forgiven by her re- 
 spected master. Leaving Nanny to tell her own story 
 and to talk over past events, Charles kind-hearted 
 Charles is gone on wings of generous impatience to 
 bring the long-lamented son to the arms of his father. 
 Nor does one selfish thought or consideration check the 
 ardour of that disinterested mind when at length he has 
 the delight of witnessing the reunion of these friends, 
 who are both so truly beloved by him. But we must 
 draw a veil over the scene which then took place, and 
 following Charles's example, we will close the door and 
 leave Herbert Carlington alone with his now too happy 
 father.
 
 284 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 Whilo Charles was engaged in these interesting scenes, 
 one of almost equal importance occurred at the home of 
 his own family. It was at about the same hour in wliich 
 he was passing through the streets of London with old 
 Nanny that Miss Moffat in a flurry of impatience ascend- 
 ed the stairs leading to the studio, on entering which the 
 good lady appeared so agitated that Mrs. Sinclair said, 
 " I hope you have brought us no bad news, Miss Moffat." 
 
 " Na, na, Maistress Sinclair, I'm no a bird o' ill omen, 
 forby I hope I've brought some varra gude news, though 
 ye'll maybe hae some heart-sair mingled wi' yer joy. I 
 just got the morn's paper fra my cousin, an I was speer- 
 ingwas there any news whan I cam upo' this paragraph ;" 
 and Miss Moffat read aloud the following sentence : 
 " At Elmsgrove, in the 65th year of his age, Harry Sin- 
 clair, Esq. We understand the family estates are left 
 by will to Algernon Sinclair, Esq., the half brother of the 
 deceased." "And," said Miss Moffat, "the Lord be 
 thankit for this an' all his mercies." 
 
 It was quite impossible to resist the smile which 
 this speech occasioned ; yet this sudden announcement 
 brought back a tide of early associations to the heart of 
 Mr. Sinclair, and he felt for a short time some emotion 
 for which even to himself he could scarcely account. 
 Years had elapsed without any sort of intercourse 
 between him and his brother, nor had he at any time 
 received from him any marks of affection, still the home 
 of his boyhood .rose up before his memory, and early 
 ties and habits were recalled. These feelings were, how- 
 ever, evanescent, and were soon overcome, and it was with 
 a feeling of thankfulness that he admitted the hope that 
 in his last hours Mr. Harry Sinclair had endeavoured to
 
 HOME IS HOME. 285 
 
 compensate for his long neglect of his family, and he 
 returned to the studio, from which he had at first hastily 
 withdrawn, and thanking Miss Moffat for her kind inter- 
 est in this affair, he told her that he should take imme- 
 diate steps to ascertain the truth of this newspaper 
 report, " and," he added, " I hope, indeed, we may find 
 some cause for thankfulness." 
 
 " Weel, weel," said Miss Moffat, " I trust ye may 
 a' yet be happier far than I hae yet known ye, but I'm 
 thinking ye'll a' maybe gang far awa, and in your ain 
 name ye'll aibleens sune forget me an the puir little 
 lassie, little Maggie." 
 
 " No, no, indeed, not so, my dear Miss Moffat, be- 
 lieve me, we can none of us ever forget your many acts 
 of kind and delicate attention to us here, and iu future 
 years I trust we shall number you among our truest 
 friends." 
 
 " I thank ye fra the bottom of my heart, Maistress 
 Sanclair. ye were always kind and douce wi' me, and I 
 shall never forget ye a', but it will be verra dull when 
 ye are a' gone, an I sail miss ye sairly ;" and here the 
 poor Scotch lady hastily retreated, quite unable to con- 
 ceal how much even the thoughts of parting had grieved 
 her kind warm heart. 
 
 As soon as Miss Moffat had left the room Mr. Sin- 
 clair exclaimed, " Well, Emily, this is* indeed a most im- 
 portant event to us ; should this account prove correct 
 we shall at once be relieved from all our sad embarrass- 
 ments. And now I shall go immediately and find my old 
 friend Mr. Pleydell, and get him to aid me in investi- 
 gating the affair ;" and after a little discussion and pre- 
 paration he set off on his interesting errand, which, as
 
 286 HOME IS H.O IE. 
 
 he told Mrs. Sinclair, might probably detain him some 
 hours. The little girls were gone to Lady Beauchamp's 
 where they now passed much of their time, and even 
 Honor was gone out, so that ere long Mrs. Sinclair found 
 the house- very dull and lonely, and she quite longed for 
 some kind sympathising friend to whom she might speak 
 on the exciting subject t.^lcli now filled her mind and 
 thoughts. So many things to demand attention, and no 
 one to advise with ! She sat down and tried to find 
 amusement in her usual occupations but all to no pur- 
 pose. At last, taking the newspaper in her hand, she 
 determined to go with it to Miss Mbffat's apartments, 
 and as she went down the long flights of stairs she tried 
 to excuse to herself her restless desire for some com- 
 panion. She was in the midst of these reflections when 
 the sudden stopping of a carriage, followed by a loud 
 ringing of the door bell startled her, and tripping against 
 the mat at the foot of the stairs she stumbled and nearly 
 fell. Who could it be ? perhaps Algernon himself 
 and then he might be displeased ; hastily she turned, 
 and retracing her steps to the first landing' above, she 
 awaited the opening of the door, when to her great 
 delight she heard Kate's sweet voice address the little 
 girl, saying, " Well, little Maggie, and how are you, my 
 bonnie wee thing, and how is good Miss Moffat ?" but 
 no further could ehe proceed, for her mother rushed 
 towards her exclaiming, " my darling Kate, I am so 
 very glad that you are here, I was longing to see you. 
 for I have such news to tell you." 
 
 Kate's loving embrace and tender kisses evinced the 
 delight with which she met her mother, and as they as- 
 cended the stairs in a tumult of affectionate pleasure sLc
 
 HOME IS HOME. 287 
 
 said, " And I too, dearest mamma, have heard something 
 which will I trust prove GOOD for you all." 
 
 A moment's explanation showed that each alluded to 
 the same event, when Kate said she had hoped to be the 
 first to bring these good tidings to her parents, " though 
 perhaps, dear mamma, I ought not to consider it alto- 
 gether a matter of congratulation, and dear papa might 
 think me thoughtless. Does he feel this event at all 
 painfully?" 
 
 " No, my dear, I cannot suppose he does ; it is so 
 long since he has seen Mr. Harry Sinclair, who ever 
 treated him with the indifference of a stranger, and al- 
 ways appeared to entertain almost a feeling of dislike to- 
 wards him, indeed so much so that I can scarcely hope 
 that the news which reached us to-day can be true ; how- 
 ever, your papa is gone to see Mr. Pleydell and to gain 
 all the information he can on the subject." 
 
 And now they reach the studio rather tired and 
 breathless with talking so earnestly while mounting the 
 steep and many stairs, and as they enter the room Kate 
 lays aside her little bonnet, gives " darling mamma " one 
 more " little hug," and then seats herself on llosy's small 
 chairclose by her mother's side, who softly strokes her love- 
 ly silken hair and seems delighted with its even increased 
 luxuriance and beauty, and then Kate takes her hand 
 and says, " 0, dearest mamma, it is so charming to have 
 you all to myself for an hour or two ! and I don't think 
 we shall be interrupted, for papa cannot I am sure return 
 for a long time. I only hope this intelligence will prove 
 correct, and then, only think, you will all be removed 
 from these gloomy rooms, and ere long you will I trust 
 be enjoying freedom and fresh air at Elmsgrovo, which is
 
 288 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 I hear a lovely place. will it not be charming, dear- 
 est mother, once* more to enjoy the beauties of the coun- 
 try?" 
 
 " It will indeed, dear Kate, be a great delight to ex- 
 change these close streets for the pure air of the coun- 
 try ; but I should be ungrateful if I did not confess that 
 God has been very gracious to us in our misfortunes, 
 and that even here in these apparently dull and lonely 
 rooms I have passed some of the happiest hours of my 
 life : and I can truly say, ' Sweet are the uses of adver- 
 sity.' Your father and I have been compelled to use 
 our talents for the maintenance of 'our family, and we 
 have found the path of active duty more pleasant, yes. 
 and more truly happy, than the idle, useless one which, 
 for some years, we had been pursuing. Your father has 
 been so kind and considerate, that I have never missed 
 or regretted the absence of all other companions." 
 
 " Dear, dear mother, your sweet, contented spirit is 
 indeed to you a gem beyond all price ; but I can assure 
 you that often when I have been sitting beneath the 
 beautiful trees at Granby, I Lave shed tears at the 
 thoughts of the imprisonment to which you and all my 
 dear ones were subjected while I was surrounded by lux- 
 ury." 
 
 " Yes, dearest Kate, I doubt not that such were your 
 feelings ; but consider, my child, how much you have 
 ameliorated our difficulties by your generous exertions, 
 and how much have we been comforted in our troubles 
 by the affectionate and considerate conduct of yourself 
 and our other dear children. Never, I .assure you, dear- 
 est Kate, shall I regret the adversity which has tlius 
 taught us the value of our mutual affection and syuipa-
 
 HOME IS HOME. 5489 
 
 thy ; and I trust we have all learned a lesson which, in 
 future years, will never lose its influence on our lives. 
 But now, dear girl, there ia one subject which I confess 
 rather distresses me. What if this intelligence of his 
 half-brother's death should induce your father to wish to 
 postpone your marriage ? it may be so, and I should 
 greatly regret causing you both so painful a trial." 
 
 " 0, dearest mother ! do not, I beg you will not, suffer 
 such a thought to distress you. Even should such delay 
 be thought advisable, how thankfully should we submit 
 to it, even for any length of time, if we can only find that 
 you are all relieved from your painful difficulties. Do 
 not think of us, dearest mother ; we are young, and 
 happy in each other's sincere affection. Only let us BOO 
 you all in your proper places, and no trial will bo pain- 
 ful." 
 
 Kate walked to the casement window as she spoko, 
 and looked down upon the long range of red-tiled houses, 
 with their stacks of heavy, smoking chimneys, and oc- 
 casional glaring skylights, all now glowing in the hazy, 
 dancing heat of a July afternoon sun ; and as her 
 thoughts reverted to the delicious scenes at Granby, 
 with their cool and pleasant shades, her tears fell fast as 
 she considered that during all the heat of that hot sum- 
 mer, from day to day no other view than that on which 
 she now gazed had met the eye of any of the dear in- 
 mates of that strange old apartment. Her mother guessed 
 her sad thoughts, and taking her hand, said, " Cheer up, 
 my dearest girl. To you this mast appear almost a prison ; 
 but I can assure you that we have had no leisure to feel 
 dull ; our time has been so much and so pleasantly occu- 
 pied that all external objects have ceased to interest us ;
 
 290 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 and when we have really required recreation, we have 
 always found it in our favourite pursuits of music, read- 
 ing and chess ; nor have we ever found our time hang 
 heavily upon our hands proving, you know, dear Kate, 
 that ' Home Js H^nxeJ " 
 
 " Dearest mother," said Kate, " I trust in future 
 years I shall prove that I have indeed profited from your 
 bright example ; but come," she said, " I really want to 
 consult you on some subjects of importance, and we must 
 not lose this opportunity." 
 
 Long and earnestly did the mother and daughter now 
 converse on the bright prospects which were opening be- 
 fore them, and Kate told her mother many circumstances 
 which were qualified to raise the lover in the estimation 
 of this truly excellent parent. At about five o'clock Mr. 
 Sinclair returned full of pleasant intelligence; he had 
 seen Mr. Pleydell and found him already apprised of the 
 circumstances of Mr. H^ Sinclair's death, and he had 
 told him that there was, he believed, no shadow of doubt 
 that the estates would be his, and if all turned out well 
 they might in a month be settled at Elmsgrove, and that 
 Mr. Pleydell intended to start that evening for that place, 
 in order to make all necessary enquiries and arrange- 
 ments. After a little more chat, Kate put on her bon- 
 net and prepared to return to Square, but then 
 
 came the question, "whether dear Kate should postpone 
 her marriage for a time? " and then papa kissed his dar- 
 ling girl, and told her he though he must leave that to 
 the decision of her kind friends. At this moment Hon- 
 or appeared at the door, and told Kate that the carriage 
 was arrived to take her back. Kate hid her blushing 
 face on papa's shoulder while she bade him farewell, and
 
 HOME IS HOME. 291 
 
 then taking leave of her mother, followed Honor down 
 stairs. On reaching the first landing Honor said, " Och 
 thin, me *lare Miss Kate, will ye grant me a moment of 
 yer precious time, for shure I've something pertickler to 
 to tell ye ;" and turning into a vacant room she petition- 
 ed Ka v e to follow her. 
 
 " Well, Honor, I four you must not detain me long, 
 but I can wait a few moments ; what is it ? are you going 
 to be married soon ?" 
 
 " Och, Miss Kate, shure ye know I will not lave my 
 dear lady at such a time, no, no, Miss, but I've a story 
 to tell ye. I was sint out just now to some distance 
 from here, and just as I was coming home rather 
 late, bad luck to me, when I came all at once upon a 
 little woman in black, and she standing looking ear- 
 nestly upon a bunch of black and white stockings, 
 hung out upon a door like sausages, and so she pulled 
 out one and another to see what was the marks of price 
 put upon 'em, mighty busy was she no doubt ; well I 
 knowed her directly, and stepping up behind her I says, 
 ' An how are ye Mrs. I forgit's yer name.' ' Bundy's 
 my name,' she says, 'but I don't know ye,' she says. 
 1 Och thin,' says I, ' shure I'll niver forgit you, for ain't 
 you the good woman that the kind gentleman sent wi' all 
 the good things to our house V ' 'Deed then ye says 
 thrue,' says she, ' but these good deeds is always beknown 
 at last, and he is the kindest of men,' she says. ' Ah 
 now,' says I, ' I shall' always love to think of him and 
 pray for him all the days of my life, for I am shuro he 
 is a good man, but where will he be living?' says I. 
 ' Och,' she says, mighty innocent-like, ' Mr. Crosby haa 
 always lived in the same house ever since I knowed him,
 
 292 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 and that's fifteen years. My husband dit^ jn board the 
 vessel as brought Mr. Crosby home from the West In- 
 dies, and I was left a widow wi' six little children, and 
 when he came to England he found me out and put me 
 on in my business and helped me to maintain my family ; 
 I keep a little broker's phr>p, and I assure you,' she says, 
 ' I shall never be able t. repay the kindness of that dear 
 gentleman ; but now do tell me how ever you found 
 out as he sent them things, for I niver breathed a word 
 of it in my life I could swear I niver have, and I aui 
 afraid he will be very angry if he knows it has come out 
 like ;' so I told her, Miss Kate, she might depind on 
 me for secresy, and thin, Miss, I was in such a hurry to 
 get home that I ran off like a lapwing." 
 
 u Now, Honor," said Kate, " I do not think you were 
 quite right to get this poor woman's secret from her in 
 this way, and for the present remember I wish you not 
 to repeat it, as I am sure it will do mischief ; still a 
 time may como when I may be glad of this informa- 
 tion." 
 
 " Och thin, my darling Miss Kate, shure an' you 
 won't go to be angered wid me ; och I wish I could put 
 back the secret into Mrs. Bundy agin, but that's impos- 
 sible ; however, I'll not make no mischief, niver I pro- 
 mise ; so now pray don't look so sarious like, my dear 
 young lady." 
 
 " Well, well, my good Honor, I am sure you did not 
 mean any wrong, but another time you must be more 
 careful." 
 
 " Och thin I will, and blessings on yer swate self, 
 that always knows what is right better than such an 
 ignorant girl as meself, bad cess to my foolish tongue,
 
 HOME IS HOMi 293 
 
 an' God bless ye, Miss ; and will I be thrubbling ye to 
 beg ye to thank kind Mr. Cowlton for his beautiful pre- 
 sent to poor Kory ?" 
 
 And now Kate bids poor Honor good-bye with much 
 kindness, and as she stands on the steps to look after 
 the carriage she receives a kindly smiling took from her 
 dear young lady, and retires to weep over the little fault 
 which had been rebuked with so much gentleness. 
 
 When Kate reached home she -hastily retired to 
 her room, and whilst dressing for dinner her thoughts 
 dwelt much on all the interesting intelligence which she 
 had just received ; and she felt her curiosity most highly 
 excited as to the motives which could have induced Mr. 
 Crosby to show so much kind consideration to such per- 
 fect strangers ; she was anxious too to know what steps 
 she had better take, as she felt sure her father .would 
 not like to remain under obligations to this extraor- 
 dinary person ; and at last she resolved to consult Car- 
 lington ; no doubt he would dine at Sir Edmund's, and 
 after'dinner she would tell him all the circumstances of 
 the case ; but on entering the drawing-room she found 
 only Lady Beauchamp there, who said, " Have you seen 
 Mr. CarKngton to-day, Kate ? I thought he was proba- 
 bly with you as he has not been here." 
 
 But Kate had not seen him, nor did he arrive all the 
 evening, and both she and her kind friend felt much 
 disappointed. 
 
 The next morning was one of exciting interest to all 
 the party at Sir Edmund Beauchamp's ; soon after break- 
 fast Carlington appeared, and with much emotion he 
 disclosed to Kate the happy and interesting discovery 
 which through the intervention of her brother had been
 
 
 294 HOME IS HOME. 
 
 effected on the preceding day, and great indcvd was her 
 astonishment at learning that the strange eccentric Mr. 
 Crosby was the father of her beloved Carlington. She 
 listened with breathless attention while he detailed to 
 her all the circumstances of their first meeting, and 
 deeply and tenderly did she sympathise in his happiness, 
 and as she put her head upon his shoulder she confided to 
 him the secret reason of her interest in the person whom 
 he had just discovered was his long lost father ; she told 
 him of his many acts of kindness and benevolence to- 
 wards her family, and also of the difficulty they had 
 found in discovering who had thus from time to time 
 contributed to their comfort ; and then she told him of 
 the little artifice by which Honor had beguiled the poor 
 widow into betraying the secret of her kind patroa and 
 also how penitent poor Honor had been when convinced 
 that she had been culpable in this affair ; and she added, 
 " really, dear Herbert, it seems as if your father had 
 been providentially guided in the interest which he has 
 felt towards my family." 
 
 " My dearest Kate," said Carlington, " depend upon 
 it we can never err in attributing to an overruling Provi- 
 dence all the events however trivial they may appear by 
 which our welfare and our happiness can be affected, and 
 I am truly thankful to find that my dear father fully 
 recognises this truth; he has already most affectingly 
 acknowledged his sense of the wisdom and mercy of that 
 dispensation by which he has thus for so many years been 
 deprived of the idol of his heart. I trust, my dear 
 Kate, his future life will now be fraught with happiness, 
 and I am sure you will gladly aid me in soothing and 
 cheering his declining age. while I sincerely hope youi
 
 HOME IS HOME 295 
 
 dear brother will continue to fill the j oico of an adopted 
 son ; I you know am more than runpiy provided with 
 the gifts of fortune, and I trust my father will act 
 towards Charles as he tells me he intended to have done 
 had we never met again." 
 
 ' But now this interesting tete-a-tete was interrupted 
 by the entrance of Lady Beauchamp, who came to offer 
 her sympathizing congratulations, and then Carlington 
 was dispatched to bring perforce hi& dear father to join 
 the anxiously expecting group of friends who would as- 
 semble to await his arrival : but when after an hour or 
 two of interesting conversation the kind-hearted old 
 gentleman rose and coming to Kate took her little hand, 
 and placed it in that of his son Herbert and pronounced 
 a fervent " God bless you, my children," and then at- 
 tempted a smile but only achieved .a tear, why it was 
 plain that sweet Kate had found a father too, and her 
 olushing tearful smiling young face spoke more plainly 
 than any words that her heart then promised that she 
 would indeed be unto him a loving daughter. 
 
 It would be fruitless to attempt to describe all tho 
 scenes of interest and affection which now occurred in 
 consequence of the late happy event ; but it will perhaps 
 be as well to state that poor old Nanny Meadows was 
 taken into the house of Mr. Crosby and placed under the 
 kind care of good Mrs. Fairly, in whom she found a most 
 faithful friend, nor did she at all dislike the occasional 
 visits of Mrs. Flitters, who appeared to her bewildered 
 imagination as one of a quite new species of housekeeper, 
 and who was to be sure " a wonderful nice lady, but not 
 a bit like a servant to my thinking ;" but then adds old 
 Nanny, " I am but a very old fashioned person you know, 
 Mrs. Fairly."
 
 296 HOME IS -.HO ME. 
 
 The fifth of August was now rapidlj approaching, and 
 every needful arrangement and preparation had been 
 made on a most liberal scale, though in consequence of 
 her peculiar circumstances Kate had petitioned that no 
 undue ostentation or display should mark the celebration 
 of her marriage ; her own two little sisters with Lady 
 Beauchatnp's three little girls were to be the attendants 
 of the bride, and greatly was little Alice delighted when 
 her physician consented to her jtaking her place among 
 the youthful bridesmaids. This little girl was fast re- 
 covering from the effects of her accident, and had for 
 some time been permitted to leave her recumbent position, 
 and there appeared every reason to hope that her recovery 
 would be complete in a few more months, and already the 
 tinge of health had revisited her cheek. Kate's gentle 
 but firm management had been of great service to her, 
 and had rendered her so docile and amenable to authori- 
 ty, that her restoration to health had been greatly accel- 
 erated, while her affection for ucr jiind and judicious in- 
 structress knew no bounds, and much as she, in common 
 with all her family, rejoiced in the prospect of happiness 
 which Kate's marriage would ensure to her, yet the 
 thought that they should so soon lose her from the do- 
 mestic circle filled her young heart with sorrow ; it was 
 however with much satisfaction that Lady Beauchamp 
 found that Miss Hartop was desirous to leave London, 
 and if possible to reside in the country, and would gladly 
 accept the situation which Kate's marriage would leave 
 vacant, so that it was soon arranged that she should re- 
 turn with them at the end of August to Granby Hall. 
 
 And now who is there amongst our readers who 
 <xuld not fill up from memory the scene which a wed-
 
 HOME IS HOME. 2(7 
 
 ding morn presents; the gentle, trembling, blushing 
 bride the affectionate, playful greetings of the pretty 
 bridesmaids, each in her simple dress of white, conveying 
 a lovely bouquet of summer's most fragrant flowers the 
 last fond, fond embrace of the mother, whose proud 
 though agitated heart beats almost to bursting as she 
 restrains the unbidden tear which would sadden her dar- 
 ling's bridal morn ; then the gathering round the holy 
 altar, and the solemn pledges there offered the prom- 
 ises of years of future love, and mutual forbearance and 
 assistance ; and then the feast prepared by loving hands, 
 the grateful scent of fruits and flowers, the parting bless- 
 ing from beloved friends and parents ; and lastly, the 
 breathless speed which conveys from her home the loved 
 and loving one for whom all hearts are breathing fervent 
 prayers of fond affection. In scenes like this the morn- 
 ing of the fifth of August passe I away and Kate Sin- 
 clair became the happy bride of the good and generous 
 Herbert Carlington.
 
 CONCLUDING CHAPTER. 
 
 IT was a few days after Kate's marriage had taken place 
 that Honor and her faithful Rory once more took their 
 evening walk together, and as the affectionate girl expa- 
 tiated on the loss she had sustained in " swate Misa 
 Kate," Rory replied, " Arrah now, Honor, me darlint, 
 shure you'll be wanting a friend more nor iver. Come, 
 say the word, an.' let me be getting the purty little ring; 
 and shure won't we be as happy as Miss Kate herself." 
 And then Honor blushingly admits that " Shure the 
 masther is come into his property, and he will soon go 
 and take possession of it ; and thin why they will not be 
 in thrubble j" and in short, Rory says, " Hurra, mavour- 
 neen ; you will be my own swate little wife at last, and 
 all the dearer for your love and constancy to the family 
 as purtected ye, machree, when ye wor a poor orphan." 
 
 And now it only remains to state that Mr. Sinclair 
 and his family soon afterwards removed to Elmsgrove 
 The parting between them and poor Miss Moffat was a 
 painful effort, and the children wept sorely when they 
 took leave of their favourite little Maggie ; but as kind 
 Miss Moffatt said, " Eh, but siccan tears as mine must 
 aye be unco selfish I'm thinking ; and, Maggie, hinny, 
 we must strive to rejoice in the weel doing of these kind 
 friends.'' And poor Miss Moffat sought to allay he*
 
 HJ3JME ,L5 HOME. 295 
 
 own sorrow by ministering to the comfort of her little 
 foster child, who was in future years to be her only com- 
 panion ; and Maggie in her turn endeavoured by affec- 
 tionate gratitude to repay the kind care which Miss 
 Moifat so lavishly bestowed. 
 
 Rory and his faithful Honor were united a few days 
 before Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair left London, and to their 
 great delight they learnt that Mr. Herbert Carlington 
 had decided on receiving them into his service as soon 
 as he took possession of his living at Granby, now 
 vacant by the death "of the good old Dr. Elliott, and 
 where Carlington had already commenced building a 
 handsome rectory house, in the hope that in future 
 years his dear father would come and occupy the one 
 in which for so many years Dr. Elliott had resided ; 
 to this arrangement his father joyously acceded, and 
 many, many happy years were added to the lifo of the 
 kind and now gentle Mr. Crosby. Charles was now 
 his constant companion, and was considered as his 
 adopted son. 
 
 The Sinclairs, relieved from all the embarrassments 
 and trials by which adverse circumstances had sur- 
 rounded them, passed the remainder of their lives in 
 that sweet peace and tranquillity which emanates from 
 the faithful discharge of appointed duties, and in th< 
 recollection of their past sorrows they ever remen*. 
 bered with gratitude the comfort which they had dc 
 rived from the dutiful and loving conduct of theii 
 children.
 
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