xt morning, and before ten o'clock Honor had heard
the account of the visit in Essex. Tearfully she thanked the trusty
reconnoitrer as for a kindness to herself, dwelling on the tokens of
relenting, yet trembling at the tidings of the malady. To write and
recall her child to her motherly nursing was the foremost thought in her
strange medley of grief and joy, hope and fear.

'Poor Robert,' she said, when she understood that he had organized
Phoebe's mission; 'I am glad I told him to give no answer for a week.'

'Mervyn told me how kind you were about Hiltonbury.'

'Kind to myself, my dear. It seems like a crime when I look at St.
Matthew's; but when I think of you all, and of home, I believe it is
right that he should have the alternative. And now, if poor Lucy come,
and it be not too late--'

'Did he say anything?' said Phoebe.

'I only wrote to him; I thought he had rather not let me see his first
impulse, so I told him to let me hear nothing till Thursday evening. I
doubted before, now I feel sure he will take it.'

'Lucy has the oldest claim,' said Phoebe, thoughtfully, wishing she could
feel equally desirous of success in this affair as in that of Mervyn and
Cecily.

'Yes, she was his first love, before Whittingtonia. Did you mention the
vacancy at Hiltonbury?'

'No; there was so much besides to talk of.'

'That is well; for perhaps if she knew, that spirit of hers might keep
her aloof. I feel like Padre Cristoforo dispensing Lucia from her vow!
If she will only get well! And a little happiness will do more than all
the cods in Hammerfest! Phoebe, we will have a chapel-school at the
hamlet, and a model kitchen at the school: and Robert will get hold of
all the big boys. His London experience is exactly what we want to
brighten Hiltonbury, and all our clergy.'

Hiltonbury had a right to stand first with Honora, and Whittingtonia had
sunk into a mere training-school for her pattern parson. If there were a
sigh to think that Owen was exactly of the right age to have been
ordained to Hiltonbury, she put it away, for this was next best.

Her note to Lucilla was penned with trembling caution, and each word was
reconsidered day and night, in case the perverse temper might take
umbrage. The answer came.

'MY DEAR HONOR,

'It is beyond my deserts to be so kindly taken home. I have learnt
what that means now. I can be spared for a fortnight; and as Mr.
Bostock dines in town the d