with which Mr Rathbone had
presented them, and he had added a few from time to time, till his
little shelves made a very pretty figure. A few of Isabella's sketches
and the print which Mr Blyth had given him, ornamented the walls, and
his careful landlady was scrupulously neat, as to the furniture of his
parlour; so that he was by no means ashamed to let his sister see his
little dwelling.

He had another visitor too, about the same time. Henry Monteath had
gone to London, according to his plan, and as he was detained three
weeks, he and Charles had many opportunities of meeting. Monteath had
quite recovered his health, and, what was better, his spirits. He
seemed quite happy, took pains to obviate, as far as he could, all
inconveniences which arose, and bore cheerfully those deprivations which
could not be avoided. He soon walked very well with his new leg, and
was so active and strong, that Charles asked him whether he expected to
be pitied any more, and if he did, on what account. Monteath replied,
that the misfortune was no great one, to be sure, but that no one but
himself knew how many and how various had been the little trials he had
had to go through since he had last parted with Charles. They were
over, however, and he hoped had produced their proper effect, as he
certainly felt the wiser for them. Charles was encouraged by his manner
of speaking to ask whether he still thought that this accident had
changed the colour of his whole future life. Monteath smiled, and said
that his fears had misled his judgment, in a case where his interest had
been too strong to let him judge impartially. Charles rejoiced at this,
and longed to hear something of Miss Auchinvole. Monteath did not
mention her at that time, but at another he asked Charles how much he
had seen of her during his visit to Exeter. She had returned to
Scotland in the autumn, and Monteath was to take two of his sisters to
spend some time with her the next summer.

Charles afterwards expressed his obligations to the Miss Monteaths, for
the kind interest they had taken in his sisters' plans. Henry would
hear no thanks, but asked whether any thing was yet in view for Alfred,
and on learning that there was not, said that his father and he had been
thinking that they should like to secure the services of a youth so well
brought up, under their own eye, and that they proposed to take him, at
the age of fourteen, into their warehouse. They would r