ur mother, and
Miss Faith? It must 'a been better than a play to see them."

"Not one of them knows a word about it yet; nor anybody in Springhaven,
except you, Kezia. You were as good as my nurse, you know; I have never
had a chance of writing to them, and I want you to help me to let them
know it slowly."

"Oh, Mr. Erle, what a lovely young woman your Miss Faith is grown up by
now! Some thinks more of Miss Dolly, but, to my mind, you may as well
put a mackerel before a salmon, for the sake of the stripes and the
glittering. Now what can I do to make you decent, sir, for them duds
and that hair is barbarious? My Tabby and Debby will be back in half an
hour, and them growing up into young maidens now."

Twemlow explained that after living so long among savages in a burning
clime, he had found it impossible to wear thick clothes, and had been
rigged up in some Indian stuff by the tailor of the ship which had
rescued him. But now he supposed he must reconcile himself by degrees to
the old imprisonment. But as for his hair, that should never be touched,
unless he was restored to the British Army, and obliged to do as the
others did. With many little jokes of a homely order, Mrs. Tugwell,
regarding him still as a child, supplied him with her husband's summer
suit of thin duck, which was ample enough not to gall him; and then she
sent her daughters with a note to the Rector, begging him to come at
seven o'clock to meet a gentleman who wished to see him upon important
business, near the plank bridge across the little river. Erle wrote that
note, but did not sign it; and after many years of happy freedom from
the pen, his handwriting was so changed that his own father would not
know it. What he feared was the sudden shock to his good mother; his
father's nerves were strong, and must be used as buffers.

"Another trouble, probably; there is nothing now but trouble," Mr.
Twemlow was thinking, as he walked unwillingly towards the place
appointed. "I wish I could only guess what I can have done to deserve
all these trials, as I become less fit to bear them. I would never
have come to this lonely spot, except that it may be about Shargeloes.
Everything now is turned upside down; but the Lord knows best, and I
must bear it. Sir, who are you? And what do you want me for?"

At the corner where Miss Dolly had rushed into the Rector's open arms so
fast, a tall man, clad in white, was standing, with a staff about
eight feet long in