"Papa has gone up to Mr. Beauchamp's."

"Mr. Hare! Has he?"

"He and Squire Pinner," continued Barbara. "They have gone to have a
smoking bout. And if you wait there with papa, it will be too late to
come in, for he is sure not to be home before eleven or twelve."

Mr. Carlyle bent his head in deliberation. "Then I think it is of little
use my going on," said he, "for my business with Beauchamp is private. I
must defer it until to-morrow."

He took the gate out of her hand, closed it, and placed the hand
within his own arm, to walk with her to the house. It was done in
a matter-of-fact, real sort of way; nothing of romance or sentiment
hallowed it; but Barbara Hare felt that she was in Eden.

"And how have you all been, Barbara, these few days?"

"Oh, very well. What made you start off so suddenly? You never said you
were going, or came to wish us good-bye."

"You have just expressed it, Barbara--'suddenly.' A matter of business
suddenly arose, and I suddenly went upon it."

"Cornelia said you were only gone for a day."

"Did she? When in London I find so many things to do! Is Mrs. Hare
better?"