Year: 1867

When Anna :nd Lois Wynyard arrived at
Rood Abbey, on brilliant June day, they
found their old companion and almost sis
ter on the watch for them, proud and hap
py young mother, in possession of the pret-
tiest baby In the world. The two girls were
delighted with ii and with her, and by-and-
by with Mr. Tindal too; for he was very
hospitable and amiablc to them, and found
them both ponies to ride out with himself
and his wife.


Anna wished she might be as luckcy as
her fathers ward had been. With the inter-
est of an engaged young lady, she observed
various little items of duty required by Mr..
Tindal of his wife, which with some COM
placcncy, she reflected would by -and-by be
required of her. II he wrote letter, lie
brought it to Pennic TO read before sealing,
even though he might have consulted her
already as to what he was to say. Mr.. and
Mrs Feathcrstonc had completely revised
their opinion OF their patron, had made ad-
vanccs, and had suggested the restoration of
the church, which they had formerly dis
couragcd. The work was now in progress !;
Mr.. Tlndal experimenting every detail,
which he thoroughly understood, but never
falling to consult Pennie, though she hardly
knew more of architecture than her shoe.
What was to be done for the cottage, on the
home farm, in the garden, she was always
invited TO consider and decide; and but that
she had thrown herself heart and soul into
her new life,it seemed TO Anna that she must
often have wished her "GOod Arthur" as
she called him, had exercised will and
way of his own.


Then, as touching her personal liberty, it
was much curtailed. He was SO anxious
lest the wind should chill or the sun scorch
her, that he tended and watched his tough
little brown Pennie as il she were some del
icate hot-house plant that an adverse blast
or parching ray might kill Pennic would
not for the world have allowed herself the
thought that his tender precautions were
tircsome or absurd but she tried to mitigate
his exaggerated care-tred the more dill
gently when Anna told her, with the conf
dental familiarity of old days, that it was
funny to see the contrast between Pcnnie
the docile wife and Pennic the wilful ward.


Pennie the wife was very short while in
discerning that any misgivings she might
entertain about Annas future were of
no account. Anna began of her own accord
to tell the tale Of Cousin Philips wooing and
wedding, and passed ON to her own pros
poets with perfect oomposure.


"Goodfrey is older than Mr.. Tindal,' said
she alluding to tho Earl "According to
the pceragc be is forty-two, and he has the
air of being even more; but that comes from
his having giving up so much time to study.
| shall be able to help in more ways than
one. Iquitc enter into his feelings about
the restoration of his family-it is almost
parallel case to our own; and oh, Pennie,
do hope shall have children"


Evidently nothing was seriously wrong
with Annals heart. She was cnincntly prac-
tical, and throughly well inclined towards
her duty. And yet, poor soul, that beauti-
ful vanished dream came dimly back, and
haunted her night thoughts especially did
it come back here, where she was constantly
reminded Of the pang of leaving Eastwood,
and OF the sweet, uneXccpted consolation
she had mot with at Eskiord


A little debate cnsucd on the second morn
ing of their visit, as to whether Lois and she
should or should not go over to Eastwood
under existing circumstances. Finally II
was carried in favour of going to see Jenny
and Crablree at the lodge, and OF going no
further Pennic considered even this
needless renewal of pain, and offered to send
for the two old people to spend day at the
Abbey; but when this expedient was about
to be adopted by Anna, Lois lifted up her
voic;, and said she had promised to go and
see how all looked about their old home,
that she might tell Maurice. 1t was more
than II year since they left, and it seemed to
these two romantic, imaginative young peo-
pie, as il il had already receded half life
time away. Lois had some expectation of
finding ruins, bcgrit with ivy-perhaps owls
hooting in the deserted chambers.


OF course she found nothing of the sort
nothing but dusty faded propriety, watch
cd over with conscientious care by Farme-
er Dykes wife. The good woman went
through the house with Lois alone, detail
ing how scrupulous she was to light fires in
damp weather, and open windows on fine
days. 1t all looked very empty and dreary.
Anna was the wiser of the two who chose
to sit on the door-steps in the sunshine with
fennie, talking over her own interesting at
fairs. Lois thought to herself with vague
regret that Anna was soon learning to for
get her own people and her fathers house
and that by-and-by Eastwood would cease to
be more than tradition with any of them.
Even she herself had no wish to return to its
dull, care-haunted solitude.


Crabtree was very deaf that morning and
very cross, and poor Jcnney was, as she
said, almost Jetiazed, what with tending
him, and what with surprise at seeing her
young ladies so unexpectedly. She asked
the same questions over and over again, and
and maundered off after each one into
| fresh recital of her last winters cough and
rheunatice, varied with sad illusions to " tn
auld times" Anna listened with sweet pa
thence, and responded with ready kindness
that was hardley sympathy, while Lois felt
her heart so Strengthened that she could not
say word. They had brought the poor
old seraitors no gifts, and there was per-
ceptible shade of grievcd disappointment in
Jcnnys face when they departed without
any reference to flannel, at which she had
been limiting all through her talk. Before
winter came again, however, her wants
were well supplied from the clothing store
of Madam at Rood Abbey" as Pennies
title was with the poor of Rood parish.


She was real blessing to them. Born in
one rank, bred in another, and keeping up
her intimacy with both, she had natural