-a happy Christmas--which he took gratefully, and lastly there
was a mention that Charles Edmonstone was better, the suffering over,
though he was not yet allowed to move.

It was a new light that Charles's silence had been occasioned by
illness, and his immediate resolution was to write at once to Mr. Ross,
to beg for further particulars. In the meantime, the perception that
there had been no estrangement was such a ray as can hardly be imagined
without knowing the despondency it had enlivened. The truth was,
perhaps, that the tone of mind was recovering, and after having fixed
himself in his resolution to endure, he was able to receive comfort and
refreshment from without as well as from within.

He set to work to write at once to the Bishop, as Mr. Ross advised. He
said he could not bear to lose time, and therefore wrote at once. He
should be of age on the 28th of March, and he hoped then to be able to
arrange for a stipend for a curate, if the Bishop approved, and would
kindly enter into communication on the appointment with Mr. Halroyd, the
incumbent. After considering his letter a little while, and wishing he
was sufficiently intimate with Mr. Ashford to ask him if it would do, he
wrote another to Mr. Ross, to inquire after Charles; then he worked for
an hour at mathematics, till a message came from the gamekeeper to
ask whether he would go out shooting, whereat Bustle, evidently
understanding, jumped about, and wagged his tail so imploringly, that
Guy could not resist, so he threw his books upon the top of the great
pile on the sofa, and, glad that at least he could gratify dog and man,
he sent word that he should be ready in five minutes.

He could not help enjoying the ecstasy of all the dogs, and, indeed he
was surprised to find himself fully alive to the delight of forcing his
way through a furze-brake, hearing the ice in the peaty bogs crackle
beneath his feet; getting a good shot, bringing down his bird, finding
snipe, and diving into the depths of the long, winding valleys and
dingles, with the icicle-hung banks of their streamlets. He came home
through the village at about half-past three o'clock, sending the keeper
to leave some of his game at the parsonage, while he went himself to see
how the work was getting on at the school. Mr. and Mrs. Ashford and the
boys were come on the same errand, in spite of the cloud of dust rising
from the newly-demolished lath-and-plaster partition. The boys looked
with