The arrival of Miss Ladd, some time before she had been expected,interrupted the two girls at a critical moment. She had hurriedover her business in London, eager to pass the rest of the daywith her favorite pupil. Emily's affectionate welcome was, insome degree at least, inspired by a sensation of relief. To feelherself in the embrace of the warm-hearted schoolmistress waslike finding a refuge from Francine.

When the hour of departure arrived, Miss Ladd invited Emily toBrighton for the second time. "On the last occasion, my dear, youwrote me an excuse; I won't be treated in that way again. If youcan't return with us now, come to-morrow." She added in awhisper, "Otherwise, I shall think you include _me_ in yourdislike of Francine."

There was no resisting this. It was arranged that Emily should goto Brighton on the next day.

Left by herself, her thoughts might have reverted to Mrs.Ellmother's doubtful prospects, and to Francine's strangeallusion to her life in the West Indies, but for the arrival oftwo letters by the afternoon post. The handwriting on one of themwas unknown to her. She opened that one first. It was an answerto the letter of apology which she had persisted in writing toMrs. Rook. Happily for herself, Alban's influence had not beenwithout its effect, after his departure. She had writtenkindly--but she had written briefly at the same time.

Mrs. Rook's reply presented a nicely compounded mixture ofgratitude and grief. The gratitude was addressed to Emily as amatter of course. The grief related to her "excellent master."Sir Jervis's strength had suddenly failed. His medical attendant,being summoned, had expressed no surprise. "My patient is overseventy years of age," the doctor remarked. "He will sit up lateat night, writing his book; and he refuses to take exercise, tillheadache and giddiness force him to try the fresh air. As thenecessary result, he has broken down at last. It may end inparalysis, or it may end in death." Reporting this expression ofmedical opinion, Mrs. Rook's letter glided imperceptibly fromrespectful sympathy to modest regard for her own interests in thefuture. It might be the sad fate of her husband and herself to bethrown on the world again. If necessity brought them to London,would "kind Miss Emily grant her the honor of an interview, andfavor a poor unlucky woman with a word of advice?"

"She may pervert your letter to some use of her own, which youmay have reason to regret." Did Emily remember Alban's warningwords? No: she accepted Mrs. Rook's reply as a gratifying tributeto the justice of her own opinions.

Having proposed to write to Alban, feeling penitently that shehad been in the wrong, she was now readier than ever to send hima letter, feeling compassionately that she had been in the right.Besides, it was due to the faithful friend, who was still workingfor her in the reading room, that he should be informed of SirJervis's illness. Whether the old man lived or whether he died,his literary labors were fatally interrupted in either case; andone of the consequences would be the termination of heremployment at the Museum. Although the second of the two letterswhich she had received was addressed to her in Cecilia'shandwriting, Emily waited to read it until she had first writtento Alban. "He will come to-morrow," she thought; "and we shallboth make apologies. I shall regret that I was angry with him andhe will regret that he was mistaken in his judgment of Mrs. Rook.We shall be as good friends again as ever."

In this happy frame of mind she opened Cecilia's letter. It wasfull of good news from first to last.

The invalid sister had made such rapid progress toward recoverythat the travelers had arranged to set forth on their journeyback to England in a fortnight. "My one regret," Cecilia added,"is the parting with Lady Doris. She and her husband are going toGenoa, where they will embark in Lord Janeaway's yacht for acruise in the Mediterranean. When we have said that miserableword good-by--oh, Emily, what a hurry I shall be in to get backto you! Those allusions to your lonely life are so dreadful, mydear, that I have destroyed your letter; it is enough to breakone's heart only to look at it. When once I get to London, thereshall be no more solitude for my poor afflicted friend. Papa willbe free from his parliamentary duties in August--and he haspromised to have the house full of delightful people to meet you.Who do you think will be one of our guests? He is illustrious; heis fascinating; he deserves a line all to himself, thus:

"The Reverend Miles Mirabel!

"Lady Doris has discovered that the country parsonage, in whichthis brilliant clergyman submits to exile, is only twelve milesaway from our house. She has written to Mr. Mirabel to introduceme, and to mention the date of my return. We will have some funwith the popular preacher--we will both fall in love with himtogether.

"Is there anybody to whom you would like me to send aninvitation? Shall we have Mr. Alban Morris? Now I know how kindlyhe took care of you at the railway station, your good opinion ofhim is my opinion. Your letter also mentions a doctor. Is henice? and do you think he will let me eat pastry, if we have himtoo? I am so overflowing with hospitality (all for your sake)that I am ready to invite anybody, and everybody, to cheer youand make you happy. Would you like to meet Miss Ladd and thewhole school?

"As to our amusements, make your mind easy.

"I have come to a distinct understanding with Papa that we are tohave dances every evening--except when we try a little concert asa change. Private theatricals are to follow, when we want anotherchange after the dancing and the music. No early rising; no fixedhour for breakfast; everything that is most exquisitely deliciousat dinner--and, to crown all, your room next to mine, fordelightful midnight gossipings, when we ought to be in bed. Whatdo you say, darling, to the programme?

"A last piece of news--and I have done.

"I have actually had a proposal of marriage, from a younggentleman who sits opposite me at the table d'hote! When I tellyou that he has white eyelashes, and red hands, and such enormousfront teeth that he can't shut his mouth, you will not need to betold that I refused him. This vindictive person has abused meever since, in the most shameful manner. I heard him last night,under my window, trying to set one of his friends against me.'Keep clear of her, my dear fellow; she's the most heartlesscreature living.' The friend took my part; he said, 'I don'tagree with you; the young lady is a person of great sensibility.''Nonsense!' says my amiable lover; 'she eats too much--hersensibility is all stomach.' There's a wretch for you. What ashameful advantage to take of sitting opposite to me at dinner!Good-by, my love, till we meet soon, and are as happy together asthe day is long."

Emily kissed the signature. At that moment of all others, Ceciliawas such a refreshing contrast to Francine!

Before putting the letter away, she looked again at that part ofit which mentioned Lady Doris's introduction of Cecilia to Mr.Mirabel. "I don't feel the slightest interest in Mr. Mirabel,"she thought, smiling as the idea occurred to her; "and I neednever have known him, but for Lady Doris--who is a perfectstranger to me."

She had just placed the letter in her desk, when a visitor wasannounced. Doctor Allday presented himself (in a hurry as usual).

"Another patient waiting?" Emily asked mischievously. "No time tospare, again?"

"Not a moment," the old gentleman answered. "Have you heard fromMrs. Ellmother?"

"Yes."

"You don't mean to say you have answered her?"

"I have done better than that, doctor--I have seen her thismorning."

"And consented to be her reference, of course?"

"How well you know me!"

Doctor Allday was a philosopher: he kept his temper. "Just what Imight have expected," he said. "Eve and the apple! Only forbid awoman to do anything, and she does it directly--be cause you haveforbidden her. I'll try the other way with you now, Miss Emily.There was something else that I meant to have forbidden."

"What was it?"

"May I make a special request?"

"Certainly."

"Oh, my dear, write to Mrs. Rook! I beg and entreat of you, writeto Mrs. Rook!"

Emily's playful manner suddenly disappeared.

Ignoring the doctor's little outbreak of humor, she waited ingrave surprise, until it was his pleasure to explain himself.

Doctor Allday, on his side, ignored the ominous change in Emily;he went on as pleasantly as ever. "Mr. Morris and I have had along talk about you, my dear. Mr. Morris is a capital fellow; Irecommend him as a sweetheart. I also back him in the matter ofMrs. Rook.--What's the matter now? You're as red as a rose.Temper again, eh?"

"Hatred of meanness!" Emily answered indignantly. "I despise aman who plots, behind my back, to get another man to help him.Oh, how I have been mistaken in Alban Morris!"

"Oh, how little you know of the best friend you have!" cried thedoctor, imitating her. "Girls are all alike; the only man theycan understand, is the man who flatters them. _Will_ you obligeme by writing to Mrs. Rook?"

Emily made an attempt to match the doctor, with his own weapons."Your little joke comes too late," she said satirically. "Thereis Mrs. Rook's answer. Read it, and--" she checked herself, evenin her anger she was incapable of speaking ungenerously to theold man who had so warmly befriended her. "I won't say to _you_,"she resumed, "what I might have said to another person."

"Shall I say it for you?" asked the incorrigible doctor. "'Readit, and be ashamed of yourself'--That was what you had in yourmind, isn't it? Anything to please you, my dear." He put on hisspectacles, read the letter, and handed it back to Emily with animpenetrable countenance. "What do you think of my newspectacles?" he asked, as he took the glasses off his nose. "Inthe experience of thirty years, I have had three gratefulpatients." He put the spectacles back in the case. "This comesfrom the third. Very gratifying--very gratifying."

Emily's sense of humor was not the uppermost sense in her at thatmoment. She pointed with a peremptory forefinger to Mrs. Rook'sletter. "Have you nothing to say about this?"

The doctor had so little to say about it that he was able toexpress himself in one word:

"Humbug!"

He took his hat--nodded kindly to Emily--and hurried away tofeverish pulses waiting to be felt, and to furred tongues thatwere ashamed to show themselves.