ormer days.

'There goes one of the smallest editions of the wonders of the world!'
said Charles, covering a sigh with a smile. 'You don't think it will do
her any harm?'

'Not if she wishes it. I have long thought a change, a break, would
be the best thing for her--poor child!--I should have sent her to the
sea-side if you had been more movable, and if I had not seen every fuss
about her made it worse.'

'That's what I call being a reasonable and valuable doctor,' said
Charles. 'If you had routed the poor little thing out to the sea, she
would have only pined the more. But suppose the captain turns out too
bad for her management, for old Markham seems in a proper taking?'

'Hem! No, I don't expect it is come to that.'

'Be that as it may, I have a head, if nothing else, and some one is
wanted. I'll write to you according as we find Philip.'

The doctor was wanted for another private interview, in which to assure
Amabel that there was no danger for Charles, and then, after promising
to come to Redclyffe if there was occasion, and engaging to write and
tell Mrs. Edmonstone they had his consent, he departed to meet them by
and by at the station, and put Charles into the carriage.

A very busy morning followed; Amabel arranged household affairs as
befitted the vice-queen; took care that Charles's comforts were provided
for; wrote many a note; herself took down Guy's picture, and laid it in
her box, before Anne commenced her packing; and lastly, walked down to
the village to take leave of Alice Lamsden.

Just as the last hues of sunset were fading, on the following evening,
Lady Morville and Charles Edmonstone were passing from the moor into
the wooded valley of Redclyffe. Since leaving Moorworth not a word had
passed. Charles sat earnestly watching his sister; though there was too
much crape in the way for him to see her face, and she was perfectly
still, so that all he could judge by was the close, rigid clasping
together of the hands, resting on the sleeping infant's white mantle.
Each spot recalled to him some description of Guy's, the church-tower,
the school with the two large new windows, the park wall, the rising
ground within. What was she feeling? He did not dare to address her,
till, at the lodge-gate, he exclaimed--'There's Markham;' and, at the
same time, was conscious of a feeling between hope and fear, that this
might after all be a fool's errand, and a wonder how they and the master
of the house w