on which Hinton was to give
up his present most comfortable quarters for the chances and changes of
Mrs. Home's poor little dwelling. That anxious young wife and mother,
having completed her usual morning duties, set off to Regent's Park to
meet Miss Harman. It was nearly March now, and the days, even in the
afternoon, were stretching, and though it was turning cold the feeling
of coming spring was more decidedly getting into the air.

Mrs. Home had told her children that she was going to meet their pretty
lady, and Harold had begged hard to come too. His mother would have
taken him, but he had a cold, and looked heavy, so she started off for
her long walk alone. Won by her husband's gentler and more Christ-like
spirit, Mrs. Home had written to Miss Harman to propose this meeting;
but in agreeing to an interview with her kinswoman she had effected a
compromise with her own feelings. She would neither go to her nor ask
her to come to the little house in Kentish Town. The fact was she wanted
to meet this young woman on some neutral ground. There were certain
unwritten, but still most stringent, laws of courtesy which each must
observe in her own home to the other. Charlotte Home intended, as she
went to meet Miss Harman on this day of early spring, that very plain
words indeed should pass between them.

By this it will be seen that she was still very far behind her husband,
and that much of a sore and angry sensation was still lingering in her
heart.

"Miss Harman will, of course, keep me waiting," she said to herself, as
she entered the park, and walked quickly towards the certain part where
they had agreed to meet. She gave a slight start therefore, when she saw
that young woman slowly pacing up and down, with the very quiet and
meditative air of one who had been doing so for some little time. Miss
Harman was dressed with almost studied plainness and simplicity. All the
rich furs which the children had admired were put away. When she saw
Mrs. Home she quickened her slow steps into almost a run of welcome, and
clasped her toil-worn and badly gloved hands in both her own.

"How glad I am to see you! You did not hurry, I hope. You are quite out
of breath. Why did you walk so fast?"

"I did not walk fast until I saw you under the trees, Miss Harman. I
thought I should have time enough, for I imagined I should have to wait
for you."

"What an unreasonable thing to suppose of me! I am the idle one, you the
busy. No: I