Out of the music room, and away from his violin, the sound sideof Mr. Wyvil's character was free to assert itself. In his publicand in his private capacity, he was an eminently sensible man.

As a member of parliament, he set an example which might havebeen followed with advantage by many of his colleagues. In thefirst place he abstained from hastening the downfall ofrepresentative institutions by asking questions and makingspeeches. In the second place, he was able to distinguish betweenthe duty that he owed to his party, and the duty that he owed tohis country. When the Legislature acted politically--that is tosay, when it dealt with foreign complications, or electoralreforms--he followed his leader. When the Legislature actedsocially--that is to say, for the good of the people--he followedhis conscience. On the last occasion when the great Russianbugbear provoked a division, he voted submissively with hisConservative allies. But, when the question of opening museumsand picture galleries on Sundays arrayed the two parties inhostile camps, he broke into open mutiny, and went over to theLiberals. He consented to help in preventing an extension of thefranchise; but he refused to be concerned in obstructing therepeal of taxes on knowledge. "I am doubtful in the first case,"he said, "but I am sure in the second." He was asked for anexplanation: "Doubtful of what? and sure of what?" To theastonishment of his leader, he answered: "The benefit to thepeople." The same sound sense appeared in the transactions of hisprivate life. Lazy and dishonest servants found that the gentlestof masters had a side to his character which took them bysurprise. And, on certain occasions in the experience of Ceciliaand her sister, the most indulgent of fathers proved to be ascapable of saying No, as the sternest tyrant who ever ruled afireside.

Called into council by his daughter and his guest, Mr. Wyvilassisted them by advice which was equally wise and kind--butwhich afterward proved, under the perverse influence ofcircumstances, to be advice that he had better not have given.

The letter to Emily which Cecilia had recommended to her father'sconsideration, had come from Netherwoods, and had been written byAlban Morris.

He assured Emily that he had only decided on writing to her,after some hesitation, in the hope of serving interests which hedid not himself understand, but which might prove to be interestsworthy of consideration, nevertheless. Having stated his motivein these terms, he proceeded to relate what had passed betweenMiss Jethro and himself. On the subject of Francine, Alban onlyventured to add that she had not produced a favorable impressionon him, and that he could not think herlikely, on further experience, to prove a desirable friend.

On the last leaf were added some lines, which Emily was at noloss how to answer. She had folded back the page, so that no eyesbut her own should see how the poor drawing-master finished hisletter: "I wish you all possible happiness, my dear, among yournew friends; but don't forget the old friend who thinks of you,and dreams of you, and longs to see you again. The little world Ilive in is a dreary world, Emily, in your absence. Will you writeto me now and then, and encourage me to hope?"

Mr. Wyvil smiled, as he looked at the folded page, which hid thesignature.

"I suppose I may take it for granted," he said slyly, "that thisgentleman really has your interests at heart? May I know who heis?"

Emily answered the last question readily enough. Mr. Wyvil wenton with his inquiries. "About the mysterious lady, with thestrange name," he proceeded--"do you know anything of her?"

Emily related what she knew; without revealing the true reasonfor Miss Jethro's departure from Netherwoods. In after years, itwas one of her most treasured remembrances, that she had keptsecret the melancholy confession which had startled her, on thelast night of her life at school.

Mr. Wyvil looked at Alban's letter again. "Do you know how MissJethro became acquainted with Mr. Mirabel?" he asked.

"I didn't even know that they were acquainted."

"Do you think it likely--if Mr. Morris had been talking to youinstead of writing to you--that he might have said more than hehas said in his letter?"

Cecilia had hitherto remained a model of discretion. Seeing Emilyhesitate, temptation overcame her. "Not a doubt of it, papa!" shedeclared confidently.

"Is Cecilia right?" Mr. Wyvil inquired.

Reminded in this way of her influence over Alban, Emily couldonly make one honest reply. She admitted that Cecilia was right.

Mr. Wyvil thereupon advised her not to express any opinion, untilshe was in a better position to judge for herself. "When youwrite to Mr. Morris," he continued, "say that you will wait totell him what you think of Miss Jethro, until you see him again."

"I have no prospect at present of seeing him again," Emily said.

"You can see Mr. Morris whenever it suits him to come here," Mr.Wyvil replied. "I will write and ask him to visit us, and you caninclose the invitation in your letter."

"Oh, Mr. Wyvil, how good of you!"

"Oh, papa, the very thing I was going to ask you to do!"

The excellent master of Monksmoor looked unaffectedly surprised."What are you two young ladies making a fuss about?" he said."Mr. Morris is a gentleman by profession; and--may I venture tosay it, Miss Emily?--a valued friend of yours as well. Who has abetter claim to be one of my guests?"

Cecilia stopped her father as he was about to leave the room. "Isuppose we mustn't ask Mr. Mirabel what he knows of Miss Jethro?"she said.

"My dear, what can you be thinking of? What right have we toquestion Mr. Mirabel about Miss Jethro?"

"It's so very unsatisfactory, papa. There must be some reason whyEmily and Mr. Mirabel ought not to meet--or why should MissJethro have been so very earnest about it?"

"Miss Jethro doesn't intend us to know why, Cecilia. It willperhaps come out in time. Wait for time."

Left together, the girls discussed the course which Alban wouldprobably take, on receiving Mr. Wyvil's invitation.

"He will only be too glad," Cecilia asserted, "to have theopportunity of seeing you again."

"I doubt whether he will care about seeing me again, amongstrangers," Emily replied. "And you forget that there areobstacles in his way. How is he to leave his class?"

"Quite easily! His class doesn't meet on the Saturdayhalf-holiday. He can be here, if he starts early, in time forluncheon; and he can stay till Monday or Tuesday."

"Who is to take his place at the school?"

"Miss Ladd, to be sure--if _you_ make a point of it. Write toher, as well as to Mr. Morris."

The letters being written--and the order having been given toprepare a room for the expected guest--Emily and Cecilia returnedto the drawing-room. They found the elders of the party variouslyengaged--the men with newspapers, and the ladies with work.Entering the conservatory next, they discovered Cecilia's sisterlanguishing among the flowers in an easy chair. Constitutionallaziness, in some young ladies, assumes an invalid character, andpresents the interesting spectacle of perpetual convalescence.The doctor declared that the baths at St. Moritz had cured MissJulia. Miss Julia declined to agree with the doctor.

"Come into the garden with Emily and me," Cecilia said.

"Emily and you don't know what it is to be ill," Julia answered.

The two girls left her, and joined the young people who wereamusing themselves in the garden. Francine had taken possessionof Mirabel, and had condemned him to hard labor in swinging her.He made an attempt to get away when Emily and Cecilia approached,and was peremptorily recalled to his duty. "Higher!" cried Missde Sor, in her hardest tones of authority. "I want to swinghigher than anybody else!" Mirabel submitted with gentleman-likeresignation, and was rewarded by tender encouragement expressedin a look.

"Do you see that?" Cecilia whispered. "He knows how rich sheis--I wonder whether he will marry her."

Emily smiled. "I doubt it, while he is in this house," she said."You are as rich as Francine--and don't forget that you haveother attractions as well."

Cecilia shook her head. "Mr. Mirabel is very nice," she admitted;"but I wouldn't marry him. Would you?"

Emily secretly compared Alban with Mirabel. "Not for the world!"she answered.

The next day was the day of Mirabel's departure. His admirersamong the ladies followed him out to the door, at which Mr.Wyvil's carriage was waiting. Francine threw a nosegay after thedeparting guest as he got in. "Mind you come back to us onMonday!" she said. Mirabel bowed and thanked her; but his lastlook was for Emily, standing apart from the others at the top ofthe steps. Francine said nothing; her lips closedconvulsively--she turned suddenly pale.