e a hand, although more
frequently Miss Annie and Mr Croft were obliged to content themselves
with some game at which two could play. But the pleasantest hours,
perhaps, were those which were spent in talking, for Lawrence had
travelled a good deal, and had seen so many of the things in foreign
lands which Miss Annie had always wished, that she could see. Lawrence
was waiting until he should hear from Mr Keswick; so that, with some
confidence in his position, he could write to Miss March. His trunk
had been sent over from the Green Sulphur Springs, and he was much
better satisfied to wait here than at that deserted watering-place. It
was, indeed, a very agreeable spot in which to wait, and quite near
enough to Midbranch for him to carry on his desired operations, when
the time should arrive. He was a little annoyed that Keswick's answer
should be so long in coming, but he resolved not to worry himself
about it. The answer was, probably, a difficult letter to write, and
one which Keswick would not be likely to dash off in a hurry. He
remembered, too, that the mail was sent and received only twice a week
at Howlett's.

Old Mrs Keswick was kind to him, but grave, and rather silent. Once
she passed the open door of the parlor, by the window of which sat
Miss Annie and Lawrence, deeply engaged, their heads together, in
studying out something on a map, and as she went up-stairs she grimly
grinned, and said to herself: "If that Null could look in and see them
now, I reckon our young man would wish he had the use of all his arms
and legs."

But if Mr Null should disapprove of his wife and that gentleman from
New York spending so much of their time together, old Mrs Keswick had
not the least objection in the world. She was well satisfied that Mr
Croft should find it interesting enough to stay here until the time
came when he should be able to go to Midbranch. When that period
arrived she would not be slow to urge him to his duty, in spite of any
obstacles Mr Brandon might put in his way. So, for the present, she
possessed her soul in as much peace as the soul of a headstrong and
very wilful old lady is capable of being possessed.

CHAPTER XXIV.

The letter which Lawrence Croft had written to Junius Keswick was not
answered for more than a week, and when the answer arrived, it did not
come through the Howlett's post-office, but was brought from a mail
station on the railway by a special messenger. In this epistle Mr