at looking out into the
street. This Mrs. Winterfield did to save her eyes from the candles,
and yet to be within reach of light if it were wanted. And Clara also
sat motionless in the dark, careful not to disturb her aunt, and
desirous of being with her when she should awake. Captain Aylmer had
declared his purpose of being home early from the Mayor's dinner, and
the ladies were to wait for his arrival before tea was brought to
them. Clara was herself almost asleep when the door was opened, and
Captain Aylmer entered the room.

"H--sh!" she said, rising gently from her chair, and putting up her
finger. He saw her by the dull light of the fire, and closed the door
without a sound. Clara then crept into the back-room, and he followed
her with noiseless step. "She did not sleep at all last night," said
Clara; "and now the unusual excitement of the day has fatigued her,
and I think it is better not to wake her." The rooms were large,
and they were able to place themselves at such a distance from the
sleeper that their low words could hardly disturb her.

"Was she very tired when she got home?" he asked.

"Not very. She has been talking much since that."

"Has she spoken about her will to you?"

"Yes;--she has."

"I thought she would." Then he was silent, as though he expected that
she would speak again on that matter. But she had no wish to discuss
her aunt's will with him, and therefore, to break the silence, asked
him some trifling question. "Are you not home earlier than you
expected?"

"It was very dull, and there was nothing more to be said. I did come
away early, and perhaps have given affront. I hope you will accept
the compliment implied."

"Your aunt will, when she wakes. She will be delighted to find you
here."

"I am awake," said Mrs. Winterfield. "I heard Frederic come in. It is
very good of him to come so soon. Clara, my dear, we will have tea."

During tea, Captain Aylmer was called upon to give an account of
the Mayor's feast,--how the rector had said grace before dinner,
and Mr. Possitt had done so after dinner, and how the soup had been
uneatable. "Dear me!" said Mrs. Winterfield. "And yet his wife was
housekeeper formerly in a family that lived very well!" The Mrs.
Winterfields of this world allow themselves little spiteful pleasures
of this kind, repenting of them, no doubt, in those frequent moments
in which they talk to their friends of their own terrible vilenesses.
Captain Aylmer then e