st into a paroxysm of
weeping.

'What is it, Milly--what's the matter, dear--what is it?' I cried aghast,
but returning her close embrace heartily.

'Oh! Maud--Maud darling, he's going to send me away.'

'Away, dear! _where_ away? And leave me alone in this dreadful solitude,
where he knows I shall die of fear and grief without you? Oh! no--no, it
_must_ be a mistake.'

'I'm going to France, Maud--I'm going away. Mrs. Jolks is going to London,
day ar'ter to-morrow, and I'm to go wi' her; and an old French lady, he
says, from the school will meet me there, and bring me the rest o' the
way.'

'Oh--ho--ho--ho--ho--o--o--o!' cried poor Milly, hugging me closer still,
with her head buried in my shoulder, and swaying me about like a wrestler,
in her agony.

'I never wor away from home afore, except that little bit wi' you over
there at Elverston; and you wor wi' me then, Maud; an' I love ye--better
than Bartram--better than a'; an' I think I'll die, Maud, if they take me
away.'

I was just as wild in my woe as poor Milly; and it was not until we had
wept together for a full hour--sometimes standing--sometimes walking up and
down the room--sometimes sitting and getting up in turns to fall on one
another's necks,--that Milly, plucking her handkerchief from her pocket,
drew a note from it at the same time, which, as it fell upon the floor, she
at once recollected to be one from Uncle Silas to me.

It was to this effect:--

'I wish to apprise my dear niece and ward of my plans. Milly proceeds to
an admirable French school, as a pensionnaire, and leaves this on Thursday
next. If after three months' trial she finds it in any way objectionable,
she returns to us. If, on the contrary, she finds it in all respects the
charming residence it has been presented to me, you, on the expiration of
that period, join her there, until the temporary complication of my affairs
shall have been so far adjusted as to enable me to receive you once more
at Bartram. Hoping for happier days, and wishing to assure you that three
months is the extreme limit of your separation from my poor Milly, I have
written this, feeling alas! unequal to seeing you at present. 'Bartram,
Tuesday.

'P.S.--I can have no objection to your apprising Monica Knollys of these
arrangements. You will understand, of course, not a copy of this letter,
but its substance.'

Over this document, scanning it as lawyers do a new Act of Parliament, we
took comfort. After a