Barrington Volume Ii Part 34

It was not a very long interview; and Hunter returned, fond, radiant, and triumphant. "She's the cleverest old woman I ever met in my life,"

said he; "and the best, besides, after my Aunt Dorothy. She said that such an invitation as that was too cordial to be coldly declined; that it meant more--far more--than a politeness; that you ought to go, yes, by all means; and if there was any difficulty about the journey, or any awkwardness in travelling so far, why, there was an easy remedy for it, as well as for meeting my aunt a perfect stranger."

"And what was that?"

"To go as her niece, dearest Polly,--to be the wife of a man who loves you."

"Is it possible that you have so much to say to each other that you won't take tea?" cried Aunt Dinah; while she whispered to Withering, "I declare we shall never have a sociable moment till they're all married off, and learn to conduct themselves like reasonable creatures."

Is it not the best testimony we can give to happiness, that it is a thing to feel and not describe,--to be enjoyed, but not pictured? It is like a debt that I owe to my reader, to show him "The Home" as it was when blissful hearts were gathered under its roof; and yet, for the life of me, I cannot acquit myself of it. To say that there were old people with their memories of the past, and young ones with their hopes of the future; that there were bygones to sigh over, and vistas to gaze at, conveys but little of the kindliness by which heart opened to heart, and sorrow grew lighter by mutual endurance, and joys became brighter as they were imparted to another.

"So I find," said Barrington, as they sat at breakfast together, "that Josephine insists on going back to the convent, and Fred is resolved on an exchange into the Infantry, and is off for Canada immediately."

"Not a bit of it!" broke in Hunter, who remarked nothing of the roguish drollery of old Peter's eye, nor even suspected that the speech was made in mockery. "Master Fred is coming with me into Kilkenny this morning, for a visit to the Dean, or whatever he is, who dispenses those social handcuffs they call licenses."

"Why, they were quarrelling all the morning," repeated Harrington.

"So we were, sir, and so we mean to do for many a year," said Josephine; "and to keep us in countenance, I hear that General Hunter and Polly have determined to follow our example."

"What do I hear, Miss Dill?" said Miss Barrington, with an affected severity.

"I'm afraid, madam, it is true; there has been what my father calls 'a contagious endemic' here lately, and we have both caught it; but ours are mild cases, and we hope soon to recover."

"What's this I see here?" cried Fred, who, to conceal his shame, had taken up the newspaper. "Listen to this: 'The notorious Stapylton, _alias_ Edwardes, whose case up to yesterday was reported all but hopeless, made his escape from the hospital, and has not since been heard of. It would appear that some of the officials had been bribed to a.s.sist his evasion, and a strict inquiry will be immediately set on foot into the affair.'"

"Do you think he has got over to France?" whispered Peter to Withering.

"Of course he has; the way was all open, and everything ready for him!"

"Then I am thoroughly happy!" cried Barrington, "and there's not even the shadow of a cloud over our present sunshine."

THE END.