, the constancy of his kind friends, and the
undeserved ardour of his young sister's affection, as well as poor
little Charlotte's unselfishness. The hard exasperated feeling that
once envenomed every favour, and barbed every dart that wounded him,
was gone; he could own the loving kindness bestowed on him, both from
Heaven and by man, and began to find peace and repose in culling the
low fragrant blossoms which cheered even the Valley of Humiliation.

He turned down the shady lane, overhung by the beech-trees of Mr.
Calcott's park, and as he lifted Kitty in his arms to allow her the
robin-redbreast, he did not feel out of tune with the bird's sweet
autumnal notes, nor with the child's merry little voice, but each
refreshed his worn and contrite spirit.

The sound of hoofs approaching made him turn his head; and while Kitty
announced 'horse!' and 'man!' he recognised Mr. Calcott, and felt
abashed, and willing to find a retreat from the meeting; but there was
no avoiding it, and he expected, as usual, to be passed with a bow; but
the Squire slackened his pace as he overtook him, and called out,
good-humouredly, 'Ha, Mr. Frost, good morning' (once it would have been
Jem). 'I always know you by the little lady on your shoulder. I was
intending to call on you this afternoon on a little business; but if
you will step up to the house with me, I shall be much obliged.'

James's heart beat thick with undefined hope; but, after all, it might
be only to witness some paper. After what had occurred, and Mrs.
Calcott considering herself affronted by Isabel, bare civility was
forgiveness; and he walked up the drive with the Squire, who had
dismounted, and was inquiring with cordial kindness for Mrs. Frost, yet
with a little awkwardness, as if uncertain on what terms they stood,
more as if he himself were to blame than the young clergyman.

Arriving at the house, James answered for his little girl's absence of
shyness, and she was turned over to the Miss Calcotts, while the Squire
conducted him to the study, and began with hesitation and something of
apology--'It had struck him--it was not worth much--he hardly liked to
propose it, and yet till something better should turn up--anything was
better than doing nothing.' To which poor James heartily agreed. The
board of guardians, where Mr. Calcott presided, were about to elect a
chaplain to the union workhouse; the salary would be only fifty pounds,
but if Mr. Frost would be wil