air with which she had bent
over it, she drew her chair closer to her husband, slipping her hand in
his, and leaning against his shoulder. Upon which Guy, who had at
first watched his mother anxiously, doubtful whether or no his father's
plan had her approval, and therefore ought to be assented to,--relapsed
into satisfied, undivided attention.

"I have again been over Beechwood Hall. You all remember Beechwood?"

Yes. It was the "great house" at Enderley, just on the slope of the
hill, below Rose Cottage. The beech-wood itself was part of its
pleasure ground, and from its gardens honest James Tod, who had them in
keeping, had brought many a pocketful of pears for the boys, many a
sweet-scented nosegay for Muriel.

"Beechwood has been empty a great many years, father? Would it be a
safe investment to buy it?"

"I think so, Edwin, my practical lad," answered the father, smiling.
"What say you, children? Would you like living there?"

Each one made his or her comment. Guy's countenance brightened at the
notion of "lots of shooting and fishing" about Enderley, especially at
Luxmore; and Maud counted on the numerous visitors that would come to
John Halifax, Esquire, of Beechwood Hall.

"Neither of which excellent reasons happen to be your father's," said
Mrs. Halifax, shortly. But John, often tenderer over youthful
frivolities than she, answered:

"I will tell you, boys, what are my reasons. When I was a young man,
before your mother and I were married, indeed before I had ever seen
her, I had strongly impressed on my mind the wish to gain influence in
the world--riches if I could--but at all events, influence. I thought
I could use it well, better than most men; those can best help the poor
who understand the poor. And I can; since, you know, when Uncle
Phineas found me, I was--"

"Father," said Guy, flushing scarlet, "we may as well pass over that
fact. We are gentlefolks now."

"We always were, my son."

The rebuke, out of its very mildness, cut the youth to the heart. He
dropped his eyes, colouring now with a different and a holier shame.

"I know that. Please will you go on, father."

"And now," the father continued, speaking as much out of his own
thoughts as aloud to his children--"now, twenty-five years of labour
have won for me the position I desired. That is, I might have it for
the claiming. I might take my place among the men who have lately
risen from the people, to guide and help