traveller with the cigar and the carpet-bag. He blushed, he
flung the cigar into the passage: he took off his hat, and dropped that
too, and going up to the Major, seized that old gentleman's hand, and
asked questions about Arthur.

The Major answered in a tremulous, though cheery voice--it was curious
how emotion seemed to olden him--and returning Warrington's pressure
with a shaking hand, told him the news of Arthur's happy crisis, of his
mother's arrival--with her young charge--with Miss----.

"You need not tell me her name," Mr. Warrington said with great
animation, for he was affected and elated with the thought of his
friend's recovery--"you need not tell me your name. I knew at once it
was Laura." And he held out his hand and took hers. Immense kindness and
tenderness gleamed from under his rough eyebrows, and shook his voice as
he gazed at her and spoke to her. "And this is Laura!" his looks seemed
to say. "And this is Warrington!" the generous girl's heart beat back.
"Arthur's hero--the brave and the kind--he has come hundreds of miles to
succour him, when he heard of his friend's misfortune!"

"Thank you, Mr. Warrington," was all that Laura said, however; and as
she returned the pressure of his kind hand, she blushed so, that she was
glad the lamp was behind her to conceal her flushing face.

As these two were standing in this attitude, the door of Pen's
bedchamber was opened stealthily as his mother was wont to open it, and
Warrington saw another lady, who first looked at him, and then turning
round towards the bed, said, "Hsh!" and put up her hand.

It was to Pen Helen was turning, and giving caution. He called out
with a feeble, tremulous, but cheery voice, "Come in, Stunner--come in,
Warrington. I knew it was you--by the--by the smoke, old boy," he said,
as holding his worn hand out, and with tears at once of weakness and
pleasure in his eyes, he greeted his friend.

"I--I beg pardon, ma'am, for smoking," Warrington said, who now almost
for the first time blushed for his wicked propensity.

Helen only said, "God bless you, Mr. Warrington." She was so happy, she
would have liked to kiss George. Then, and after the friends had had a
brief, very brief interview, the delighted and inexorable mother, giving
her hand to Warrington, sent him out of the room, too, back to Laura and
the Major, who had not resumed their play of Cymbeline where they had
left it off at the arrival of the rightful owner of Pen's