nd
Katie arrived, and the gentlemen from the dining-room. Then he
tried to join in the conversation again; but, on the whole, life
was a burthen to him that night, till he could get fairly away to
his own room, and commune with himself, gazing at the yellow
harvest moon, with his elbows on the window sill.

The ankle got well very quickly, and Mary was soon going about
with a gold-headed stick which had belonged to Mr. Brown's
father, and a limp which Tom thought the most beautiful movement
he had ever seen. But, though she was about again, by no amount
of patient vigilance could he now get the chance of speaking to
her alone. But he consoled himself with the thought that she must
understand him; if he had spoken he couldn't have made himself
clearer.

And now the Porters' visit was all but over, and Katie and her
father left for Englebourn. The Porters were to follow the next
day, and promised to drive round and stop at the Rectory for
lunch. Tom petitioned for a seat in their carriage to Englebourn.
He had been devoting himself to Mrs. Porter ever since the
accident, and had told her a good deal about his own early life.
His account of his early friendship for Betty and her son, and
the renewal of it on the day he left Barton Manor, had interested
her, and she was moreover not insensible to his assiduous and
respectful attentions to herself, which had of late been quite
marked; she was touched, too, at his anxiety to hear all about
her boys, and how they were getting on at school. So on the whole
Tom was in high favour with her, and she most graciously assented
to his occupying the fourth seat in their barouche. She was not
without her suspicions of the real state of the case with him;
but his behavior had been so discreet that she had no immediate
fears; and, after all, if anything should come of it some years
hence, her daughter might do worse. In the meantime she would see
plenty of society in London; where Mr. Porter's vocations kept
him during the greater part of the year.

They reached Englebourn after a pleasant long morning's drive;
and Tom stole a glance at Mary and felt that she understood him,
as he pointed out the Hawk's Lynch and the clump of scotch firs
to her mother; and told how you might see Barton from the top of
it, and how he loved the place, and the old trees, and the view.

Katie was at the door ready to receive them, and carried off Mary
and Mrs. Porter to her own room. Tom walked round t