ugh her husband's arm; "and Gratian, and Melville, and Ralph will be
later."

"Where are you going to put them all? You forget your country seat is
not as accommodating as our Great George Street house."

"Oh! I will make room," she said; "it is so restful and lovely here. I
wish----"

"What do you wish?"

"That we lived here. I know it is impossible while you are in the office
every day. I only meant it is so delightful to be in the country; winter
or summer, it is the best place."

[Illustration: Abbot's Leigh]

"Few winter days are like this," Gilbert said; "but, darling, one day I
may be able to give you a country home."

"A dear old-fashioned one like _this_?" she said, "Oh! then we will call
it 'The Haven!'"

"It is not built yet," Gilbert said; "we must remember all that the
children will want, education--"

"And accomplishments," she added, laughing. "Lettice, Lota, and little
baby Joy must not grow up 'little rustics.'"

Joyce laughed, just her old, sweet, silvery laugh.

"It answered my purpose to be a little rustic, after all, as I took your
fancy in my lilac cotton gown and white apron."

He put his arm round her as they walked, and pressed her close.

"They might be lovers of yesterday," Susan Priday thought, as she
watched them from the nursery windows, "instead of having been married
seven years. Such love must make a poor man rich and a rich man happy,
and may God bless them both. The mistress grows prettier every day."

No one ever sounded Susan Priday's depth of gratitude; she was not a
demonstrative person, and the other servants, as might be expected, were
a little jealous of her, and sometimes she had dark hints to bear "of
the daughter of bad folks being lucky," and muttered words of
self-congratulation that _their_ fathers had not been rioters and died
in "'ospital beds."

But all these shafts were powerless to disturb Susan's peace, and baby
Joy heard many a soliloquy which reached no other ears than hers.

"Yes," she was saying, as she swayed Joy gently to and fro; "they look
like lovers of yesterday. The master is aged since his illness, and
stoops a bit, but the mistress is younger than ever."

The husband and wife had turned now, and faced the house. Joyce looked
up, and waved her hand and smiled, that "little pure, white hand," Susan
thought, "which poor father said had saved him from despair."

Then the two little girls, in scarlet cloaks and hoods, came with Falcon
t