o the fire, and taking no
notice of their mutual silence upon this piece of news. At last she
muttered, in a soliloquising tone--

"Do not know--but I am not sure this news is true, after all."

After a moment's pause, Margaret replied--"I think that is not very
reasonable. What must one suppose of everybody else, if it is not
true?"

Hester was going to say, "What must we think of him, if it is?" but she
checked herself. She should not have said what she had; she felt this,
and only replied--

"Just so. Yes; it must be true."

Margaret's heart once more sank within her at this corroboration of her
own remark.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

THE MEADOWS IN WINTER.

Hester was tired of her snow-boots before she saw them. She had spent
more trouble on them than they were worth; and it was three weeks yet
before they came. It was now past the middle of February--rather late
in the season for snow-boots to arrive: but then there was Margaret's
consolatory idea, that they would be ready for next year's snow.

"It is not too late yet," said Mr Hope. "There is skating every day in
the meadow. It will soon be over; so do not lose your opportunity.
Come! let us go to-day."

"Not unless the sun shines out," said Hester, looking with a shiver up
at the windows.

"Yes, to-day," said Edward, "because I have time to-day to go with you.
You have seen me quiz other skaters: you must go and see other skaters
quiz me."

"What points of your skating do they get hold of to quiz?" asked
Margaret.

"Why, I hardly know. We shall see."

"Is it so very good, then?"

"No. I believe the worst of my skating is, that it is totally devoid of
every sort of expression. That is just the true account of it," he
continued, as his wife laughed. "I do not square my elbows, nor set my
coat flying, nor stoop, nor rear; but neither is there any grace. I
just go straight on; and, as far as I know, nobody ever bids any other
body look at me."

"So you bid your own family come and look at you. But how are your
neighbours to quiz you if they do not observe you?"

"Oh, that was only a bit of antithesis for effect. My last account is
the true one, as you will see. I shall come in for you at twelve."

By twelve the sun had shone out, and the ladies, booted, furred, and
veiled, were ready to encounter the risks and rigours of the ice and
snow. As they opened the hall door they met on the steps a young woman,
who was just raising h