lop and force them back had rendered them more crooked and knotty,
till the enterprise had been abandoned as vain. But there was a soft
hand that had caressed the rugged boughs, softened them with the dews of
gratitude and affection, fanned them with gales from heaven, and gently
turned them to seek training and culture, till the most gnarled and
hardened had learnt patiently to endure the straightening hand and
pruning knife.

Under such tranquil uneventful discipline, Theodora had spent the last
four years, working with all her might at her labours in the parish,
under Mr. Hugh Martindale, and what was a far more real effort,
patiently submitting when family duties thwarted her best intentions.
Parish work was her solace, in a somewhat weary life, isolated from
intimate companionship.

She had, indeed, Mr. Hugh Martindale for a guide and adviser, and to her
father she was a valuable assistant and companion; but her mother was
more than ever engrossed by the care of Mrs. Nesbit; her eldest brother
was still in the West Indies and Arthur only seen in fleeting visits, so
short that it had never been convenient for his family to accompany him,
nor had Theodora even been spared to attend Violet, when a little girl,
now nearly two years old, had been added to her nursery.

Letters ill supplied the lack of personal intercourse: Theodora did
not write with ease, and Violet could not pour herself out without
reciprocity; so that though there was a correspondence, it languished,
and their intimacy seemed to be standing still. Another great and heavy
care to Theodora was a mistrust of Arthur's proceedings. She heard of
him on the turf, she knew that he kept racers; neither his looks nor
talk were satisfactory; there were various tokens of extravagance;
and Lord Martindale never went to London without bringing back some
uncomfortable report.

Very anxious and sad at heart, she hoped to be better satisfied by
judging for herself; and after long wearying for a meeting, her wishes
were at length in the way of fulfilment--Arthur's long leave was to be
spent at home.

The carriage turned in at the lodge gates. She looked up--how
differently from the would-be careless air with which she had once
watched! But there was disappointment--she saw no brother! In a moment
Violet had descended from the carriage, and warmly returned her embrace;
and she was kissing the little shy faces that looked up to her, as all
got out to walk up the