on her imagination, and she felt that her younger
sisters ought not to grow up to such a spectacle. Still her loving heart
yearned over Mervyn, who was very fond of her, and consulted her pleasure
continually in his own peculiar and selfish way, although often
exceedingly cross to her as well as to every one else; but this
ill-temper was so visibly the effect of low spirits that she easily
endured and forgave it. She saw that he was both unwell and unhappy.
She could not think what would become of him when the present arrangement
should be broken up; but could only cling to him, as long as she could
pity him. It was no wonder that on the Sunday, Honora seeing her enter
the church, could only help being reminded of the expression of that
child-saint of Raffaelle, wandering alone through the dragon-haunted
wood, wistful and distressed, yet so confident in the Unseen Guide and
Guardian that she treads down evils and perils in innocence, unconscious
of her full danger and of their full blackness.

CHAPTER XIX

Close within us we will carry, strong, collected, calm, and brave,
The true panoply of quiet which the bad world never gave;
Very serpents in discretion, yet as guileless as the dove,
Lo! obedience is the watchword, and the countersign is love.

W. G. TUPPER

On the next hunting day, Mervyn took Phoebe with him to the meet, upon a
favourite common towards Elverslope, where on a fine morning ladies were
as apt to be found as hounds and huntsmen, so that she would be at no
loss for companions when he left her.

Phoebe rode, as she did everything else, well, quietly and firmly, and
she looked very young and fresh, with her rounded rosy cheeks and chin.
Her fair hair was parted back under a round hat, her slenderly plump
figure appeared to advantage mounted on her bright bay, and altogether
she presented a striking contrast to her brother. She had not seen him
in hunting costume for nearly a year, and she observed with pain how much
he had lost his good looks; his well-made youthful air was passing away,
and his features were becoming redder and coarser; but he was in his best
humour, good-natured, and as nearly gay as he ever was; and Phoebe
enjoyed her four-miles' ride in the beauty of a warm December's day, the
sun shining on dewy hedges, and robins and thrushes trying to treat the
weather like spring, as they sang amid the ric