nd right, oppression and staunch
resistance. It would have gone harder, but for one whom John now began
to call his "friend;" at least, one who invariably called Mr. Halifax
so--our neighbour, Sir Ralph Oldtower.

"How often has Lady Oldtower been here, Ursula?"

"She called first, you remember, after our trouble with the children;
she has been twice since, I think. To-day she wanted me to bring
Muriel and take luncheon at the Manor House. I shall not go--I told
her so."

"But gently, I hope?--you are so very outspoken, love. You made her
clearly understand that it is not from incivility we decline her
invitations?--Well--never mind! Some day we will take our place, and
so shall our children, with any gentry in the land."

I think--though John rarely betrayed it--he had strongly this
presentiment of future power, which may often be noticed in men who
have carved out their own fortunes. They have in them the instinct to
rise; and as surely as water regains its own level, so do they, from
however low a source, ascend to theirs.

Not many weeks after, we removed in a body to Enderley. Though the
chief reason was, that John might be constantly on the spot,
superintending his mills, yet I fancied I could detect a secondary
reason, which he would not own even to himself; but which peered out
unconsciously in his anxious looks. I saw it when he tried to rouse
Muriel into energy, by telling her how much she would enjoy Enderley
Hill; how sweet the primroses grew in the beechwood, and how wild and
fresh the wind swept over the common, morning and night. His daily
longing seemed to be to make her love the world, and the things
therein. He used to turn away, almost in pain, from her smile, as she
would listen to all he said, then steal off to the harpsichord, and
begin that soft, dreamy music, which the children called "talking to
angels."

We came to Enderley through the valley, where was John's cloth-mill.
Many a time in our walks he and I had passed it, and stopped to listen
to the drowsy fall of the miniature Niagara, or watch the incessant
turning--turning of the great water-wheel. Little we thought he should
ever own it, or that John would be pointing it out to his own boys,
lecturing them on "undershot," and "overshot," as he used to lecture me.

It was sweet, though half-melancholy, to see Enderley again; to climb
the steep meadows and narrow mule-paths, up which he used to help me so
kindly. He could