nding his way.'

'No; but I really should enjoy showing him the old armour. He was asking
me about it this morning. I think he knows nearly as much of it as we
do.'

'Very well. I say, Phoebe, would you object to my taking Brown and
Clay--my two head boys? I owe them a treat, and they would just enter
into this.'

Phoebe was perfectly willing to accept the two head boys, and the
appointment had just been made when the doctor arrived. Again he brought
good hope. From his own examination of Owen, and from Mr. Randolf's
report, he was convinced that a considerable amelioration had taken
place, and saw every reason to hope that in so young and vigorous a
nature the injury to the brain might be completely repaired, and the use
of the limbs might in part, at least, return, though full recovery could
not be expected. He wished to observe his patient for a month or six
weeks in town, that the course of treatment might be decided, after which
he had better be taken to the Holt, to enjoy the pure air, and be out of
doors as much as the season would permit.

To Honor this opinion was the cause of the deepest, most thankful
gladness; but on coming back to Owen she found him sitting in his
easy-chair, with his hand over his eyes, and his look full of
inexpressible dejection and despondency. He did not, however, advert to
the subject, only saying, 'Now then! let us have in the young pauper to
see the old one.'

'My dear Owen, you had better rest.'

'No, no; let us do the thing. The grandmother, too!' he said
impatiently.

'I will fetch little Owen; but you really are not fit for Mrs. Murrell.'

'Yes, I am; what am I good for but such things? It will make no
difference, and it must be done.'

'My boy, you do not know to what you expose yourself.'

'Don't I,' said Owen, sadly.

Lucilla, even though Mr. Prendergast had just come to share her
anxieties, caught her nephew on his way, and popped her last newly
completed pinafore over his harlequinism, persuading him that it was most
beautiful and new.

The interview passed off better than could have been hoped. The
full-grown, grave-looking man was so different from the mere youth whom
Mrs. Murrell had been used to scold and preach at, that her own awe
seconded the lectures upon quietness that had been strenuously impressed
on her; and she could not complain of his reception of his ''opeful son,'
in form at least. Owen held out his hand to her, and bent to kiss