rs could not be surprised, at this when they saw Mr Hope. The
only wonder was, that, in the description of the intellectual society of
Deerbrook, Mr Hope had not been mentioned first. He was not handsome;
but there was a gaiety of countenance and manner in him, under which the
very lamp seemed to burn brighter. He came, as Mr Grey had explained,
on business; and, not having been aware of the arrival of the strangers,
would have retreated when his errand was done; but, as opposition was
made to this by both parents and children he sat down for a quarter of
an hour, to be taken into consultation about how the Miss Ibbotsons were
to be conducted through the process of seeing the sights of Deerbrook.

With all sincerity, the sisters declared that the woods of the park
would fully satisfy them,--that they had been accustomed to a life so
quiet, that excursions were not at all necessary to their enjoyment.
Mr Grey was determined that they should visit every place worth seeing
in the neighbourhood, while it was in its summer beauty. Mr Hope was
exactly the right person to consult, as there was no nook, no hamlet, to
which his tastes or his profession had not led him. Sophia put paper
before him, on which he was to note distances, according to his and Mr
Grey's computations. Now, it was one peculiarity of Mr Hope that he
could never see a piece of paper before him without drawing upon it.
Sophia's music-books, and any sheet of blotting-paper which might ever
have come in his way, bore tokens of this: and now his fingers were as
busy as usual while he was talking and computing and arranging. When,
as he said, enough had been planned to occupy a month, he threw down his
pencil, and took leave till the morning, when he intended to make a call
which should be less involuntary.

The moment he was gone, the little girls laid hands on the sheet of
paper, on which he had been employed. As they expected, it was covered
with scraps of sketches; and they exclaimed with delight, "Look here!
Here is the spring. How fond Mr Hope is of drawing the spring! And
here is the foot-bridge at Dingleford! And what is this? Here is a
place we don't know, papa."

"I do not know how you should, my dears. It is the Abbey ruin down the
river, which I rather think you have never seen."

"No, but we should like to see it. Are there no faces this time, Fanny?
None anywhere? No funny faces this time! I like them the best of Mr
Hope's drawin