e me too hard upon Crayston, so I may take it
out in a little soft-heartedness toward the son of an old friend."

Just at this moment Erminia came running through the white morning mist all
glowing with haste.

"Maggie," said she, "I'm come to take care of your mother. My uncle says
she and Nancy must come to us for a long, long visit. Or if she would
rather go home, I'll go with her till she feels able to come to us, and do
anything I can think of for her. I will try to be a daughter till you come
back, Maggie; only don't be long, or Frank and I shall break our hearts."

Maggie waited till her mother had ended her long clasping embrace of
Edward, who was subdued enough this morning; and then, with something like
Esau's craving for a blessing, she came to bid her mother good-bye, and
received the warm caress she had longed for for years. In another moment
the coach was away; and before half an hour had elapsed, Combehurst
church-spire had been lost in a turn of the road.

Edward and Mr. Buxton did not speak to each other, and Maggie was nearly
silent. They reached Liverpool in the afternoon; and Mr. Buxton, who had
been there once or twice before, took them directly to some quiet hotel. He
was far more anxious that Edward should not expose himself to any chance of
recognition than Edward himself. He went down to the Docks to secure berths
in the vessel about to sail the next day, and on his return he took Maggie
out to make the requisite purchases.

"Did you pay for us, sir?" said Maggie, anxious to ascertain the amount of
money she had left, after defraying the passage.

"Yes," replied he, rather confused. "Erminia begged me not to tell you
about it, but I can't manage a secret well. You see she did not like the
idea of your going as steerage-passengers as you meant to do; and she
desired me to take you cabin places for her. It is no doing of mine, my
dear. I did not think of it; but now I have seen how crowded the steerage
is, I am very glad Erminia had so much thought. Edward might have roughed
it well enough there, but it would never have done for you."

"It was very kind of Erminia," said Maggie, touched at this consideration
of her friend; "but..."

"Now don't 'but' about it," interrupted he. "Erminia is very rich, and has
more money than she knows what to do with. I'm only vexed I did not think
of if myself. For Maggie, though I may have my own ways of thinking on some
points, I can't be blind to your good