views would be the same. All the long-repressed
discussion of Averil's merits, her beautiful eyes, her sweet voice, her
refinement, her real worth, the wonder that she and Leonard should be
so superior to the rest of the family, were freely indulged at last,
and Ethel could give far heartier sympathy than if this had come to her
three years ago. Averil had been for two years her correspondent, and
the patient sweetness and cheerfulness of those letters had given a far
higher estimate of her nature than the passing intercourse of the town
life had left. The terrible discipline of these years of exile and
sorrow had, Ethel could well believe, worked out something very
different from the well-intentioned wilful girl whose spirit of
partisanship had been so fatal an element of discord. Distance had, in
truth, made them acquainted, and won their love to one another.

Tom's last words, as he drew up under the lime-trees before the door,
were, 'Mind, I am only going about the 'Diseases of Climate'.'

CHAPTER XXVI

And Bishop Gawain as he rose,
Said, 'Wilton, grieve not for thy woes,
Disgrace and trouble;
For He who honour best bestows,
Can give thee double.'--Marmion

Dr. May had written to Portland, entreating that no communication might
be made to Leonard Ward before his arrival; and the good physician's
affection for the prisoner had been so much observed, that no one would
have felt it fair to anticipate him. Indeed, he presented himself at
the prison gates only two hours after the arrival of the documents,
when no one but the governor was aware of their contents.

Leonard was as usual at his business in the schoolmaster's department;
and thither a summons was sent for him, while Dr. May and the governor
alone awaited his arrival. Tom's visit was still very recent; and
Leonard entered with anxious eyes, brow drawn together, and compressed
lips, as though braced to meet another blow; and the unusual room, the
presence of the governor instead of the warder, and Dr. May's
irrepressible emotion, so confirmed the impression, that his face at
once assumed a resolute look of painful expectation.

'My boy,' said Dr. May, clasping both his hands in his own, 'you have
borne much of ill. Can you bear to hear good news?'

'Am I to be sent out to Australia already?' said Leonard--for a
shortening of the eight years before his ticket-of-leave was the sole
hope that had presented itself.