h in the county,
and appreciation of Isabel's conduct must give him pleasure. He
stammered something about her having held up wonderfully, and the
salary being an immense relief, and then took refuge in matter-of-fact
inquiries on his intended functions.

This lasted till nearly half-past one, and Mr. Calcott insisted on his
staying to luncheon. He found the ladies greatly amused with their
little guest--a very small, but extremely forward and spirited child,
not at all pretty, with her brown skin and womanly eyes, but looking
most thoroughly a lady, even in her little brown holland frock, and
white sun-bonnet, her mamma's great achievement. Neither shy nor
sociable, she had allowed no one to touch her, but had entrenched
herself in a corner behind a chair, through the back of which she
answered all civilities, with more self-possession than distinctness,
and convulsed the party with laughing, when they asked if she could
play at bo-peep, by replying that 'the children did.' She sprang from
her place of refuge to his knee as soon as he entered, and occupied
that post all luncheon time, comporting herself with great discretion.
There was something touching in the sight of the tenderness of the
young father, taking off her bonnet, and settling her straggling curls
with no unaccustomed hands; and Mrs. Calcott's heart was moved, as she
remarked his worn, almost hollow cheeks, his eyes still quick, but sunk
and softened, his figure spare and thin, and even his dress not without
signs of poverty; and she began making kind volunteers of calling on
Mrs. Frost, nor were these received as once they would have been.

'He is the only young man,' said Mr. Calcott, standing before the fire,
with his hands behind him, as soon as the guest had departed, 'except
his cousin at Ormersfield, whom I ever knew to confess that he had been
mistaken. That's the difference between them and the rest, not
excepting your son Sydney, Mrs. Calcott.'

Mamma and sisters cried in chorus, that Sydney had no occasion for such
confessions.

The Squire gave his short, dry laugh, and repeated that 'Jem Frost and
young Fitzjocelyn differed from other youths, not in being right but in
being wrong.'

On which topic Mrs. Calcott enlarged, compassionating poor Mr. Frost
with a double quantity of pity for his helpless beauty of a fine
lady-wife; charitably owning, however, that she really seemed improved
by her troubles. She should have thought better o