e, as if it were there on
purpose. She laid her hand upon Joyce's, who fondled it in both hers.
Then Joyce gave a little laugh.

"Lettice, dost thou wonder to hear me laugh?" asked she. "I seemed like
as if I saw, all at once, that sunshine afternoon when thou earnest
first over from the Manor House, sent of my Lady Norris to make friends
with us. Dost remember?"

"And thou earnest tripping lightly down the stairs, clad of a russet
gown, and leddest me up to see Anstace. `Do I remember it!' Ah, Joyce,
my sister, there be sore changes since that day!"

"Be there so?" said Joyce, and smiled brightly enough. "A good number
of miles nearer Home, Lettice, and a good number of treasures laid up
for both of us, where neither moth nor rust shall hurt them. My
treasures are all there which are not likewise thine. And now let me
see the new gems in thy jewel-box. Who art thou, my maid?"

"I am Lettice Murthwaite, Madam, if you please."

"My dear heart, I do not please to be called Madam. I am thine Aunt
Joyce. Come here and kiss me, if thou wilt."

Lettice knelt down by the couch, and kissed the old lady.

"There is not much of Nell here, Lettice," said Joyce to Lady Louvaine.
"'Tis her father the child is like. Now then, which of these two lads
is Aubrey--he with the thinking brow, or he with the restless eyes?"

Lady Louvaine called Aubrey, and he came up.

"Why, thou art like nobody," said Aunt Joyce. "Neither Ned nor Faith,
nor any of Ned's elders. Lettice, where is Faith? hast not brought her
withal?"

Faith was in the hall, listening to a lecture from Temperance,
embellished by such elegancies as "Stuff and nonsense!" and "Listen to
reason!" which ended up at last with "Lancaster and Derby!" and Faith
came slowly in, with her everlasting handkerchief at her eyes.

"Nay, Faith, sweet heart, no tears!" cried the old lady. "Sure there's
nought to weep for this even, without thou art so dog-weary that thou
canst not keep them back."

"Mistress Morrell, I wish you good even," said Temperance, coming in
after her sister. "If you'll but learn Faith to keep that handkerchief
of hers in her pocket, you'll have done the best work ever you did since
we saw you last in Derwent-dale. She's for ever and the day after
a-fretting and a-petting, for why she'd better tell you, for I'm a
Dutchman if I can make out."

Aunt Joyce looked from one to the other.

"So unfeeling!" came Faith's set form, from behind