The sun was setting as she reached Warpington. All was gray, the church tower, the trees, the pointed gables of the Vicarage, set small together, as in a Christmas card, against the still red sky. It only needed "Peace and Good-will" and a robin in the foreground to be complete. The stream was the only thing that moved, with its shimmering mesh of fire-tipped ripples fleeing into the darkness of the reeds. The little bridge, so vulgar in every-day life, leaned a mystery of darkness over a mystery of light. The white frost held the meadows, and binding them to the gray house and church and bare trees was a thin floating ribbon of—was it mist or smoke? In her own window a faint light wavered. They had lit a fire in her room. Hester's heart warmed to her sister-in-law at that little token of care and welcome. Minna should have all her flowers, except one small bunch for Fräulein. In another moment she was ringing the bell, and Emma's smiling red face appeared behind the glass door.

Hester ran past her into the drawing-room. Mrs. Gresley was sitting near the fire with the old baby beside her. She returned Hester's kiss somewhat nervously. She looked a little frightened.

The old baby, luxuriously seated in his own little arm-chair, rose, and holding it firmly against his small person to prevent any disconnection with it, solemnly crossed the hearth-rug, and placed the chair with himself in it by Hester.

"You would like some tea," said Mrs. Gresley. "It is choir practice this evening, and we don't have supper till nine."

But Hester had had tea before she started.

"And you are not cold?"

Hester was quite warm. The Bishop had ordered a foot-warmer in the carriage for her.

"You are looking much better."

Hester felt much better, thanks.

"And what lovely flowers!"

Hester suggested, with diffidence, that they would look pretty in the drawing-room.

"I think," said Mrs. Gresley, who had thought the same till that instant, "that they would look best in the hall."

"And the rest of the family," said Hester, whose face had fallen a little. "Where are they?"

"The children have just come in. They will be down directly. Come back to me, Toddy; you are boring your aunt. And James is in his study."

"Is he busy, or may I go in and speak to him?"

"He is not busy. He is expecting you."

Hester gathered up her rejected flowers and rose. She felt as if she had been back at Warpington a year—as if she had never been away.

She stopped a moment in the hall to look at her letters, and laid down her flowers beside them. Then she went on quickly to the study, and tapped at the door.

"Come in," said the well-known voice.

Mr. Gresley was found writing. Hester instantly perceived that it was a pose, and that he had taken up the pen when he heard her tap.

Her spirits sank a peg lower.