impressions, of the justice of which the reader may better judge
hereafter, as to the gratitude--more than ordinarily filial--which
Leonard owed to her. In short, she did not like, as she phrased it, "to
be shaken off;" and after a sleepless night she resolved to judge for
herself, much moved thereto by the malicious suggestions to that effect
made by Mr. Sprott, who mightily enjoyed the idea of mortifying the
gentlemen by whom he had been so disrespectfully threatened with the
treadmill. The widow felt angry with Parson Dale and with the
Riccaboccas: she thought they were in the plot against her; she
communicated. therefore, her intentions to none, and off she set,
performing the journey partly on the top of the coach, partly on foot.
No wonder that she was dusty, poor woman!

"And, oh, boy!" said she, half sobbing, "when I got through the lodge-
gates, came on the lawn, and saw all that power o' fine folk, I said to
myself, says I--for I felt fritted--I'll just have a look at him and go
back. But ah, Lenny, when I saw thee, looking so handsome, and when thee
turned and cried 'Mother,' my heart was just ready to leap out o' my
mouth, and so I could not help hugging thee, if I had died for it. And
thou wert so kind, that I forgot all Mr. Sprott had said about Dick's
pride, or thought he had just told a fib about that, as he had wanted me
to believe a fib about thee. Then Dick came up--and I had not seen him
for so many years--and we come o' the same father and mother; and so--and
so--" The widow's sobs here fairly choked her. "Ah," she said, after
giving vent to her passion, and throwing her arms round Leonard's neck,
as they sat in the little sanded parlour of the public-house,--"ah, and
I've brought thee to this. Go back; go back, boy, and never mind me."

With some difficulty Leonard pacified poor Mrs. Fairfield, and got her to
retire to bed; for she was, indeed, thoroughly exhausted. He then