ival of this summons, which, from the distracted
state of the times, had never come.

As we have before said, the orphans were four in number; the two eldest
were boys, and the youngest were girls. Edward, the eldest boy, was
between thirteen and fourteen years old; Humphrey, the second, was
twelve; Alice, eleven; and Edith, eight. As it is the history of these
young persons which we are about to narrate, we shall say little about
them at present, except that for many months they had been under little
or no restraint, and less attended to. Their companions were Benjamin,
the man who remained in the house, and old Jacob Armitage, who passed
all the time he could spare with them. Benjamin was rather weak in
intellect, and was a source of amusement rather than otherwise. As for
the female servants, one was wholly occupied with her attendance on Miss
Judith, who was very exacting, and had a high notion of her own
consequence. The other two had more than sufficient employment; as,
when there is no money to pay with, everything must be done at home.
That, under such circumstances, the boys became boisterous and the
little girls became romps, is not to be wondered at; but their having
become so was the cause of Miss Judith seldom admitting them into her
room. It is true that they were sent for once a day, to ascertain if
they were in the house or in existence, but soon dismissed and left to
their own resources. Such was the neglect to which these young orphans
were exposed. It must, however, be admitted, that this very neglect
made them independent and bold, full of health from constant activity,
and more fitted for the change which was so soon to take place.

"Benjamin," said Jacob, as the other came to the door, "I must speak
with the old lady."

"Have you brought any venison, Jacob?" said Benjamin, grinning; "else, I
reckon, you'll not be over welcome."

"No, I have not; but it is an important business, so send Agatha to her
directly."

"I will; and I'll not say anything about the venison."

In a few minutes Jacob was ushered up by Agatha into Miss Judith
Villiers's apartment. The old lady was about fifty years of age, very
prim and starched, sitting in a high-backed chair, with her feet upon a
stool, and her hands crossed before her, her black mittens reposing upon
her snow-white apron.

The old forester made his obeisance.

"You have important business with us, I am told," observed Miss Judith.

"Most