Rachel seldom took long to repent. She came slowly to her uncle,
where he stood with the lamp in his hand, looking in his face with a
heavenly contrition, and saying nothing. When she reached him, she
dropped on her knees, and kissed the hand that hung by his side. Her
temper was poor Rachel's one sore-felt trouble.

Polwarth stooped and kissed her on the forehead, raised her, and
leading her to the stair, stood aside to let her go first. But when
she had been naughty Rachel would never go before her uncle, and she
drew back. With a smile of intelligence he yielded and led the way.
But ere they had climbed to the top, Rachel heard Mr. Wingfold's
step, and went down again to receive him.






CHAPTER II.

A DREAM.





Invited to ascend, Wingfold followed Rachel to her uncle's room, and
there, whether guided by her or not, the conversation presently took
such a turn that at length, of his own motion, Polwarth offered to