he gravel walk. Barbara
waltzed round the large room to a gleeful song, as if she felt his
absence a relief. Perhaps she did. "You can have tea now, mamma, at any
time you please, if you are thirsty, without waiting till seven," quoth
she.

"Barbara!" said Mrs. Hare.

"What, mamma?"

"I am sorry to hear of the calamity which has fallen upon Joyce! I
should like to walk to East Lynne this evening and inquire after her,
and see her, if I may; it would be but neighborly. I feel quite equal to
it. Since I have accustomed myself to take more exercise I feel better
for it, you know; and we have not been out to-day. Poor Joyce! What time
shall we go, Barbara?"

"If we were to get there by--by seven, I should think; their dinner will
be over then."

"Yes," answered Mrs. Hare, with alacrity, who was always pleased when
somebody else decided for her. "But I should like some tea before we
start, Barbara."

Barbara took care that her mamma should have some tea and then they
proceeded toward East Lynne. It was a lovely evening--the air warm, and
the humming gnats sported in it as if to make the most of the waning
summer. Mrs. Hare enjoyed it at first, but ere she reached East Lynne,
she became aware that the walk was too much for her. She did not usually
venture upon half so long a one, and probably the fever and agitation of
the morning had somewhat impaired her day's strength. She laid her hand
upon the iron gate as they turned into the park, and stood still.

"I did wrong to come, Barbara."

"Lean on me, mamma. When you reach those benches, you can take a good
rest before proceeding to the house. It is very warm, and that may have
fatigued you."

They gained the benches, which were placed under some of the park trees,
in front of the gates and the road, but not of the house, and Mrs. Hare
sat down. Another minute and they were surrounded. Mr. Carlyle, his
wife, and sister, who were taking an after-dinner stroll amidst the
flowers with their guest, Francis Levison, discerned them, and came up.
The children, except the youngest, were of the party. Lady Isabel warmly
welcomed Mrs. Hare; she had become quite attached to the delicate and
suffering woman.

"A pretty one, I am, am I not, Archibald, to come inquiring after
one invalid, and am so much of an invalid myself that I have to stop
half-way?" Mrs. Hare exclaimed, as Mr. Carlyle shook her hand. "I was so
greatly concerned to hear of poor Joyce."

"You must stay th