autumn than in spring, or it wanted poor Sarah's hand; the dogs, not the
same individuals, but with much the same manners, dancing round their
master--all like, all home. Nothing wanting, but, alas! the
good-natured, narrow-minded old mistress of the house to fret her, and
notable Sarah to make her comfortable, and wonder at her eccentric
tastes. Ah! and how much more was wanting the gentle mother who did all
the civility and listening, and the father, so happy to look at green
woods, read poetry, and unbend his weary brow! How much more precious
was the sight of the one living remnant of those days!

They had a cheerful evening. Mr. Saville had a great deal of
old-fashioned Oxford agreeableness; he was very courtly, but a sensible
man, with some native fun and many college stories. After many years of
donship, his remote parish was somewhat of a solitude to him, and
intercourse with a cultivated mind was as pleasant to him now as the
sight of a lady had been in his college days. Honor liked conversation
too; and Miss Wells, Lucilla, and Owen had been rather barren in that
respect, so there was a great deal of liveliness, in which Humfrey took
his full share; while good Mrs. Saville looked like what she was, her
husband's admiring housekeeper.

'Do you take early walks still, Humfrey?' asked Honor, as she bade him
good night. 'If you do, I shall be quite ready to confront the dew;' and
therewith came a revulsion of the consciousness within. Was this
courting him? and to her great provocation there arose an uncomfortable
blush.

'Thank you,' he said, with something of a mournful tone, 'I'm afraid I'm
past that, Honor. To-morrow, after breakfast--good night.'

Honor was a little alarmed by all this, and designed a conference with
the old housekeeper, Mrs. Stubbs, to inquire into her master's health,
but this was not attainable that night, and she could only go to bed in
the friendly old wainscoted room, whose white and gold carved monsters on
the mantelpiece were well-nigh as familiar as the dove in Woolstone-lane;
but, oh! how it made her long for the mother whom she used to kiss there.

Humfrey was brisk and cheerful as ever at breakfast, devising what his
guests would like to do for the day, and talking of some friends whom he
had asked to meet Mr. Saville, so that all the anxieties with which
Honora had risen were dissipated, and she took her part gaily in the
talk. There was something therefore freshly