repressed suffering, and speaking with difficulty, as he wrung her
hand, and murmured, 'Oh, Clara! may we but abide patiently.'

After his good-bye, he turned back again to say, 'I'm selfish; but let
me put you in mind not to let the Lima correspondence drop.'

'Oh, no, no; you know I won't.'

'Thank you! And let me leave you Mary's keynote of comfort, 'Commit
thy way unto the Lord, and He will bring it to pass.''

'Thank you,' said Clara, in her turn, and she was left alone.

CHAPTER XII.

THE FROST HOUSEHOLD.

The wind of late breathed gently forth,
Now shifted east, and east by north,
Bare trees and shrubs but ill, you know,
Could shelter them from rain or snow,
Stepping into their nests they paddled,
Themselves were chilled, their eggs were addled,
Soon every father bird and mother
Grew quarrelsome, and pecked each other.
Pairing Time Anticipated--COWPER.

Three weeks longer did the session drag on, but on the joyful day when
release was given, Lord Ormersfield was surprised to find Mr. Dynevor's
card upon his table, with an address at Farrance's hotel.

Louis alone was at leisure to repair thither. He found Clara alone,
looking as if her grief were still very fresh, and, though striving to
speak gaily, the tears very near the surface.

'We are going abroad,' she said; 'Uncle Oliver thinks it a part of my
education, and declares he will not have me behind the Miss Brittons.
We are bound straight for Switzerland.'

'Lucky girl,' said Louis.

'I'm sure I don't care for it,' said Clara; 'mountains and pictures are
not a bit in my line, unless I had Isabel and you, Louis, to make me
care.'

'Learn, then,' said Louis; 'it shows that your education is defective.
Yes, I see,' he continued, as Clara signed heavily, 'but you don't know
the good it will do you to have your mind forcibly turned aside.'

'If I could only sit quiet in a corner,' said Clara.

'So you will, in many a corner of a railway carriage.'

She smiled a little. 'The truth is,' she said, 'that poor Uncle Oliver
cannot be quiet. I can't see what pleasure Italy will be to him, but
he is too miserable at home. I never saw such restless unhappiness!'
and her eyes filled with tears. 'Oh, Louis! I am glad you would not
let me say anything about leaving him. Sometimes when he bids me good
night, he puts his arm round me, and says so pitifully that I do not
care for him. Do you know, I