the lady, who now felt awkwardly, without knowing exactly why, shook her
head in silence, and forced a faint laugh.

"Whom have we here?" cried Captain Jarvis, who was looking out at a window
which commanded a view of the approach to the house--"the apothecary and
his attendant judging from the equipage."

The rector threw an inquiring look on a servant, who told his master they
were strangers to him.

"Have them shown up, doctor," cried the benevolent baronet, who loved to
see every one as happy as himself, "and give them some of your excellent
pasty, for the sake of hospitality and the credit of your cook, I beg of
you."

As this request was politely seconded by others of the party, the rector
ordered his servants to show in the strangers.

On opening the parlor door, a gentleman, apparently sixty years of age,
appeared, leaning on the arm of a youth of five-and-twenty. There was
sufficient resemblance between the two for the most indifferent observer
to pronounce them father and son; but the helpless debility and emaciated
figure of the former, were finely contrasted by the vigorous health and
manly beauty of the latter, who supported his venerable parent into the
room with a grace and tenderness that struck most of the beholders with a
sensation of pleasure. The doctor and Mrs. Ives rose from their seats
involuntarily, and each stood for a moment, lost in an astonishment that
was mingled with grief. Recollecting himself, the rector grasped the
extended hand of the senior in both his own, and endeavored to utter
something, but in vain. The tears followed each other down his cheeks, as
he looked on the faded and careworn figure which stood before him; while
his wife, unable to control her feelings, sank back into a chair and wept
aloud.

Throwing open the door of an adjoining room, and retaining the hand of the
invalid, the doctor gently led the way, followed by his wife and son. The
former, having recovered from the first burst of her sorrow, and
regardless of everything else, now anxiously watched the enfeebled step of
the stranger. On reaching the door, they both turned and bowed to the
company in a manner of so much dignity, mingled with sweetness, that all,
not excepting Mr. Benfield, rose from their seats to return the
salutation. On passing from the dining parlor, the door was closed,
leaving the company standing round the table in mute astonishment and
commiseration. Not a word had been spoken, and the r