st
excuse me, master; I meant no harm."

The dinner over, the squire leaned back in his armchair, and began to
turn over many thoughts in his mind. Harry's words kept recurring to
him, "And the old missus too." Well, why not? Hitherto he had never
thought the matter over at all. He knew that his wife had continued
much the same, neither better nor worse. He knew also that to have
brought her back while her daughter was shut out of the house would have
only been the means of aggravating her complaint; and it had not yet
seriously occurred to him that Julia's return might remove a difficulty
and be a step towards restoring her mother to her old place in her home.
But Harry's words now disturbed him and made him restless,--"And the
old missus too." Could it indeed be brought to pass? Might not the
sight of her daughter in the old home, occupying the place she used to
hold, and of the other children living with her in harmony and love, act
so beneficially on her as to restore her, with judicious and tender
treatment, to reason, happy intelligence, and home once more? As he
admitted these thoughts into his heart, his bosom heaved, the tears fell
fast from his eyes, he pressed his hand on his forehead, and, looking
up, murmured a prayer for guidance. Harassed and worn by electioneering
business, and sickened with the din and unnatural excitement connected
with it, how he yearned for the quiet peace and affectionate realities
of his home society; and with that yearning came now a special longing
to see once more, in her accustomed chair, her who had dwelt so long in
banishment from him. And yet he scarcely knew how to take the first
step in the bringing about of that which he so earnestly desired. "I
must leave it till Kate comes home," he said to himself with a sigh;
"she will be sure to suggest the right thing, and to go the right way to
work in the matter." How great, then, were the relief and happiness of
Miss Huntingdon when, on the evening of the day of her return home, her
brother himself introduced the subject by saying, "Dear Kate, I have
been thinking a good deal of late whether it would not be possible to
get my dear Mary back to her old home again. You know one great
hindrance has now been removed. She will find our dear Julia once more
ready to welcome her, and that, I daresay, if the meeting were well
managed, might go a great way towards her cure."

With what joy, then, did Miss Huntingdon gradual