o her, however, that Mrs. Geoffrey Langford wished most to
devote herself; viewing her case with more uneasiness than that of
Frederick, who was decidedly on the fair road to convalescence; and she
only gave him as much time as was necessary to satisfy his mother, and
to superintend the regulation of his room. He had all the society he
wanted in his sister, who was always with him, and in grandpapa and
grandmamma, whose short and frequent visits he began greatly to
enjoy. He had also been more amenable to authority of late, partly in
consequence of his uncle's warning, partly because it was not quite so
easy to torment an aunt as a mother, and partly too because, excepting
always the starving system, he had nothing in particular of which to
complain. His mother's illness might also have its effect in subduing
him; but it did not dwell much on his spirits, or Henrietta's, as they
were too much accustomed to her ill health to be easily alarmed on her
account.

It was the last day of the holidays, and Alexander was to come late in
the afternoon--Fred's best time in the day--to take his leave. All the
morning Fred was rather out of spirits, and talked to Henrietta a good
deal about his school life. It might have been a melancholy day if he
had been going back to school, but it was more sad to be obliged to stay
away from the world where he had hitherto been measuring his powers, and
finding his most exciting interests. It was very mortifying to be
thus laid helplessly aside; a mere nobody, instead of an important and
leading member of a community; at such an age too that it was probable
that he would never return there again.

He began to describe to Henrietta all the scenes where he would be
missing, but not missed; the old cathedral town, with its nest of trees,
and the chalky hills; the quiet river creeping through the meadows:
the "beech-crowned steep," girdled in with the "hollow trench that the
Danish pirate made;" the old collegiate courts, the painted windows of
the chapel, the surpliced scholars,--even the very shops in the streets
had their part in his description: and then falling into silence he
sighed at the thought that there he would be known no more,--all would
go on as usual, and after a few passing inquiries and expressions of
compassion, he would be forgotten; his rivals would pass him in the race
of distinction; his school-boy career be at an end.

His reflections were interrupted by Mrs. Langford's en