ly unfold to her brother
the fact that the cure had already been accomplished, and that nothing
now remained but for him to fix the day for receiving back to his heart
and home her who had been so long separated from him. Most gladly did
he acquiesce in the plans proposed by his sister as to the day and
manner of his wife's return, promising that he would duly restrain
himself at the first meeting, and that he would endeavour to erase, by
his future consideration and attention to her every wish, any painful
scar that might remain from harshness or unkindness in times past. Miss
Huntingdon was most deeply thankful that her path had been thus smoothed
by the wise and tender hand that guides all the footsteps of the
trusting people of God; and she felt sure that a bright eventide was in
store for those so truly dear to her. With her brother's consent she
wrote to the cottage, fixing an early day for the return home, thinking
it wiser to remain at Flixworth Manor herself, that her presence, when
the earnestly desired meeting should take place, might be a comfort to
all parties, and might help to dispel any little cloud which memories of
the past might cause to hover even over an hour so full of gladness.
The day came at last. All outside the Manor-house was as bright as
well-kept walks, closely-mown turf, and flower-beds gay with the rich
and tastefully blended tints of multitudes of bright and fragrant
flowers, could make it. Harry had taken the fine old entrance hall
under his own special care. How the bedrooms or sitting-rooms might
look was not his concern, but that the hall should look its venerable
best, and that the plate should be bright, that was his business; it was
for him to see to it, and see to it he did. Never were plate-powder and
wash-leather put into more vigorous exercise, and never was old oak
staircase and panelling bees'-waxed and rubbed with more untiring
energy; so that, as the western sun poured his rays in through windows
and fanlight, a cheery brightness flashed from a hundred mirror-like
surfaces, including some ancestral helmets and other pieces of armour,
which glowed with a lustre unknown by them in the days when they were
worn by their owners. "That'll do, and no mistake," said the old man
half out loud, as, dressed in his best, he walked from one corner of the
hall to another, standing a while at each to take in fully all the
beauties of the prospect. "Yes, that'll do; don't you think