n silence together after this--John lost in
thought, Valentine much the better for having relieved his mind. Then
Emily came to the door ready for her drive, and looking very sweet and
serene.

"Come, you have been talking long enough. John, how grave you look! I
could not forbear to let you know that some letters have arrived. St.
George and Dorothea are at home again, and the baby can almost walk
alone. But, Val, it seems that you have been inviting young Crayshaw
here?"

"I have taken that liberty, madam," said Valentine. "Have you anything
to say against it?"

Emily smiled, but made no answer.

"That boy and I suit each other uncommonly well," continued Valentine.
"Our correspondence, though I say it, would be worth publishing--stuck
as full of jokes as a pincushion should be of pins. It often amused me
when I was ill. But his brother is going to take him home."

"Ah, home to America!" said Emily, betraying to neither John nor
Valentine the pleasure this news gave her.

John was silent, still deeply pondering the unwelcome surprise of the
afternoon. Valentine was refreshed by her presence, and at finding his
avowal over.

"And so," continued Valentine, "he wrote to me and asked if I would
have him for two days before he left. He knew that you would all be
here, and he wanted to take leave."

"He is a droll young fellow," said Emily. "Johnnie will miss his 'chum.'
One of the letters was from him. He is to be here in an hour, and
Johnnie has started off to meet him, with Bertie and one of the girls."

The other of the girls, namely, Gladys, had betrayed just a little
shyness, and had left his young allies to go and fetch Crayshaw without
her. Emily meeting her in the corridor as she came up-stairs, had
stopped and given her a cordial kiss.

"She is so very young," thought the warm-hearted step-mother. "She will
soon forget it."

She took Gladys with her, and after their short drive managed that they
should be together when young Crayshaw appeared; and she helped her
through a certain embarrassment and inclination to contradict herself
while answering his reproachful inquiries respecting Blob, his dog.

"Father would not let us bring him," said Barbara, confirming the
assurance of the others on that head.

"I have a great mind to go back all the way round by Wigfield to take
leave of him," said Crayshaw. "You think I don't love that dog? All I
know is, then, that I called him out of his kennel the last