t, it will be more than half for love
of Phoebe!'

'Well, for a girl like that to be so devoted to him--her brother though
he be--shows there must be more in him than meets the eye. That's just
the girl that I would not mind John's marrying.'

CHAPTER XXV

Turn again, Whittington!--_Bow Bells_

May had come round again before Robert Fulmort stood waiting at the
Waterloo Station to welcome the travellers, who had been prohibited from
putting Bertha's restored health to the test of east winds. It was a
vista of happy faces that he encountered as he looked into the carriage
window, yet the first questions and answers were grave and mournful.

'Is Mr. Henderson still alive?' asked Honora.

'No, he sank rapidly, and died on Sunday week. I was at the funeral on
Saturday.'

'Right; I am glad you went. I am sorry I was away.'

'It was deeply felt. Nearly all the clergy in the archdeaconry, and the
entire parish, were present.'

'Who is taking care of the parish?'

'Charlecote Raymond has been coming over for the Sundays, and giving
great satisfaction.'

'I say, Robert, where's the Bannerman carriage? Phoebe is to be
victimized there--more's the pity,' interposed Mervyn.

'There is their brougham. I meant to drive to Albury-street with her,'
said Robert, gazing at his brother as if he scarcely knew him without the
characteristic knitting of the brow under a grievance, the scowl, or the
half-sneering smile; and with the cleared and lightened air that he had
worn ever since that little spark of hope had been left to burn and shine
undamped by dissipation or worldly policy. Bertha also was changed. She
had grown tall and womanly, her looks beyond her age, and if her childish
vivacity were gone, the softened gravity became her much better. It was
Phoebe's report, however, for which he chiefly longed, and he was soon
seated beside her on the way to Albury-street, while the others betook
themselves Citywards.

'So, Phoebe, it is all right, and you are satisfied?'

'Satisfied, grateful, thankful to the utmost,' said Phoebe, fervently.
'I think I never was so happy as all through the latter part of the
journey.'

'You think well of Bertha?'

'I cannot call her restored, for she is far more than she was before.
That meeting with Cecily Raymond did for her what we could not do, and
she is growing to be more than we knew how to wish for.'

'Her spirits?'

'Never high, and easily shaken. Her nerv