o announce that they were ready for a walk with mother, and Gilbert
asked if he might be permitted to come also.

"Of course," Falcon said; "only we thought you might be tired. Mother
told us never to plague you to take us for a walk."

"I am getting quite well, my boy, and it will not be so easy, I hope, to
plague me now as it has been lately."

"I've put away the trumpet, father, where I can't possibly see it, for I
was afraid if I saw it I should be forced to give a big '_too-te-too_.'
So mother said, put it away till father is quite well, and then you can
blow it in the garden. She wanted to _keep_ it for me, but that was like
a baby; now I could get it any minute I wished, only I _won't_."

Gilbert was half amused, half touched, by this lesson of self-restraint
that Joyce had taught her little son, by means of the discordant
trumpet, and he patted his head fondly, saying:

"You'll always be right if you follow mother's advice, my boy."

"I know it," Falcon said; "Susan says mother can make every one
_better_."

Joyce and her little daughters were on in front, walking up the village
to the churchyard.

Presently they retraced their steps to the village, where an old tree,
with a gnarled trunk, stands at the junction of four roads, and was a
favourite post of observation to the children.

A smart post-chaise, seen from afar, coming swiftly onwards, contained
Melville and Gratian. They had slept at an hotel in Clifton on the
previous night, and came in the style which befitted them.

Joyce was a little alarmed at the large amount of boxes on the roof, and
wondered if they could by any means be carried upstairs.

Gratian, handsome and gay as ever, gave all the orders and settled with
the post-boy, while Melville looked on.

It was one of those cases when it is expedient, perhaps, that the wife
should take the lead, from the incapacity of the husband to manage
himself or his affairs, but it has never a pleasing effect on those who
look on, and Gilbert thought how well it was there were no children to
hear Gratian's ringing tones ordering Melville to 'wake up' and carry
two small packages into the hall.

"Where is Ralph?" Joyce asked.

"He took some qualm about leaving Fair Acres. Mr. Watson is ill--dying,
they say--so Ralph said he did not want to leave the place; there are
still many bad characters about."

"I am sorry to miss Ralph, and mother will be disappointed, especially
as Harry has joined his