t visitors went away moralizing on the absurdity of
"nouveaux riches" taking so much state on them.

He wondered how soon he might venture to write to Amabel, on whom alone
he could depend; but he felt it a sort of profanity to disturb her.

He had nearly given up his visits to the post in despair, when one
morning he beheld what never failed to bring some soothing influence,
namely, the fair pointed characters he had not dared to hope for. He
walked quickly into the promenade, sat down, and read:--

'Hollywell, March 22nd.

'MY DEAR PHILIP,--Papa does not answer your letter, because he says
speaking is better than writing, and we hope you are well enough to
come to us before Sunday week. I hope to take our dear little girl to
be christened on that day, and I want you to be so kind as to be
her godfather. I ask it of you, not only in my own name, but in her
father's, for I am sure it is what he would choose. Her Aunt Laura and
Mary Ross are to be her godmothers, I hope you will not think me very
foolish and fanciful for naming her Mary Verena, in remembrance of our
old readings of Sintram. She is a very healthy, quiet creature, and I am
getting on very well. I am writing from the dressing-room, and I expect
to be down-stairs in a few days. If you do not dislike it very much,
could you be so kind as to call upon Miss Wellwood, and pay little
Marianne Dixon's quarter for me? It is L1O, and it will save trouble
if you would do it; besides that, I should like to hear of her and the
little girl. I am sorry to hear you are not better,--perhaps coming here
may do you good.--Four o'clock. I have been keeping my letter in hopes
of persuading papa to put in a note, but he says he had rather send a
message that he is quite ready to forgive and forget, and it will be
best to talk it over when you come."

'Your affectionate cousin,

'A. F. MORVILLE.'

It was well he was not under his sister's eye, for he could not read
this letter calmly, and he was obliged to take several turns along
the walk before he could recover his composure enough to appear in the
breakfast-room, where he found his sister alone, dealing her letters
into separate packets of important and unimportant.

'Good morning, Philip. Dr. Henley is obliged to go to Bramshaw this
morning, and has had an early breakfast. Have you been out?'

'Yes, it is very fine--I mean it will be--the haze is clearing.'

Margaret saw that he was unusually agitated,