"I have not many fears on that score," said she, smiling. "No, do not
be uneasy about me, my dear Fred, it is my proper place, and I must be
happy there. I shall like to be near the Hall, and to see all the dear
old places again."

"O, mamma, you cannot talk about them without your voice quivering,"
said Henrietta. "You do not know how I wish you would give it up!"

"Give it up! I would not for millions," said Mrs. Langford. "Now go,
my dears, and perhaps I shall go to sleep again."

The spirits of the brother and sister did not just at first rise enough
for rejoicing over the decision. Henrietta would willingly have kept
back the letter, but this she could not do; and sealing it as if she
were doing wrong, she sat down to dinner, feeling subdued and
remorseful, something like a tyrant between the condemnation and
execution of his victim. But by the time the first course was over,
and she and Frederick had begun to recollect their long-cherished
wishes, they made up their minds to be happy, and fell into their usual
strain of admiration of the unknown haven of their hopes, and of
expectations that it would in the end benefit their mother.

The next morning she was quite in her usual spirits, and affairs
proceeded in the usual manner; Frederick's holidays came to an end, and
he returned to school with many a fond lamentation from the mother and
sister, but with cheerful auguries from both that the next meeting
might be at Knight Sutton.

"Here, Henrietta," said her mother, as they sat at breakfast together a