they slept that night again at the "star," and the following morning early, they and their furniture took possession together of the house. a busy day they found it, arranging things. jane—who had determined, as the saying runs, "to put her shoulder to the wheel," not only on this day, but on future days—did not intend to engage a regular servant. that, like the carpets, might be indulged in as they succeeded; but in the mean time she thought a young girl might be found who would come in for a few hours daily, and do what they wanted done.

in the course of the morning, the fair, pleasant face of the quakeress was seen approaching the back door from the garden. she wore a lilac print gown, a net kerchief crossed under it on her neck, and the peculiar net cap, with its high caul and neat little border.

"i have stepped in to ask if i can help thee with thy work," she began. "thee hast plenty to do, setting things straight, and thy husband does not look strong. i will aid if thee pleasest."

"you are very kind to be so thoughtful for a stranger," replied jane, charmed with the straightforward frankness of the quakeress. "i hope you will first tell me to whom i am indebted."

"thee can call me patience," was the ready reply. "i live next door, with samuel lynn and his daughter anna. his wife died soon after the child was born. i was related to anna lynn; and when she was departing she sent for me, and begged me not to leave her child, unless samuel should take unto himself another wife. but that appears to be far from his thoughts. he loves the child much; she is as the apple of his eye."

"is mr. lynn in business?" asked jane.

"not on his own account now. he was a glove manufacturer, as a young man, but he had not a large capital; and when the british ports were opened for the admission of gloves from the french, it ruined him—as it did many others in the city. only the rich masters could stand that. numbers went then."

"went!" echoed jane. "went where?"

"to ruin. ah! i remember it: though it is a long time ago now. it was, i think, in the year 1825. i cannot describe to thee the distress and destruction it brought upon this city, until then so flourishing. the manufacturers had to close their works, and the men went about the streets starving."

"did the distress continue long?"

"for weeks, and months, and years. the town will never be again, in that respect, what it has been. samuel lynn was a man of integrity, and he gave up business while he could pay everyone, and accepted the post of manager in the manufactory of thomas ashley. thomas ashley is one of the first manufacturers in the city, as his father was before him. when thee shall know the place and the people better, thee will find that there is not a name more respected throughout helstonleigh than that of thomas ashley."

"i suppose he is a rich man?"

"yes, he is rich," replied patience, who was as busy with her hands as she was in talking. "his household is expensive, and he keeps his open and his close carriages; but for all that he must be putting by money. it is not for his riches that thomas ashley is respected, but for his high character. there is not a more just man living than thomas ashley; there is not a manufacturer in the town who is so considerate and kind to his workmen. his rate of wages is on the highest scale, and he is incapable of oppression. he has a son and daughter. he, the boy, causes him much uneasiness and cost."

"is he—not steady?" hastily asked jane.

"bless thee, it is not that!" was the laughing answer of patience. "he is but a young boy yet. when he was fourteen months old, the nurse let him fall from her arms, from the first landing to the hall below. at first they thought he was not hurt: margaret ashley herself thought it; the doctors thought it. but in a little time injury grew apparent. it lay in one of the hips; he is often in great pain, and will be lame for life. abscess after abscess forms in the hip. they take him to the sea-side; to doctors in london; but nothing cures him. a beautiful boy as you ever saw; but his hurt renders him peevish. he is fond of books; and david byrne, who is a latin and greek scholar, goes daily to instruct him; but the boy is thrown back by his fits of illness. it is a great grief to thomas and margaret ashley. they——why, anna, is it thee? what dost thou do here?"

mrs. halliburton turned from the kitchen cupboard, where she and patience were arranging crockery, to behold a little girl who was no doubt anna lynn. dark blue eyes were deeply set beneath their long lashes, which lay on a damask and dimpled cheek; her pretty teeth shone like pearls between her smiling lips, and her chestnut hair fell in a mass of careless curls upon her neck. never, mrs. halliburton thought, had she seen a face so lovely. jane was a pretty child; but jane faded into nothing in comparison with the vision standing there.

"thee has thy cap off again, anna!" cried the quakeress, with some asperity of tone. "art thee not ashamed to be so bold?—going about with thy head uncovered!"

"the cap came off, patience," gently responded anna. she had a sweetly timid manner; a modest expression.

"thee need not tell me what is untrue. when the cap is tied on, it will not come off, unless purposely removed. go home and put it on. thee may come back again. perhaps friend halliburton will permit thee to stay awhile with her children, who are arranging their books in the study. is thy french lesson learnt?"

"not quite," replied anna, running away.

she returned with a pretty little white net cap on, the model of that worn by patience. her luxuriant curls were pushed under it, and the crimped border rested on the fair forehead.

"nay, there is no call to put all thy hair out of sight, child," said patience. "where are thy combs."

"in my hair, patience."

patience took off the cap, formed two flat curls, by means of the combs, on either side the temples, put the cap on again, and tucked the rest of the hair smoothly under it. mrs. halliburton then took anna's hand, and led her to her own children.

"what a pity it is to hide her hair!" she said afterwards to patience.

"dost thee think so? it is the custom with our people. anna's hair is fine, and of a curly nature. brush it as i will, it curls; and she has acquired a habit of taking her cap off when i am not watching. her father, i grieve to say, will let her sit by the hour together, her hair down, as thee saw it now, and her cap anywhere. i believe he thinks nothing she does is wrong. i talk to him much."

"i never saw a more beautiful child!" said jane, warmly.

"i grant thee that she is fair; but she is eleven years old now, and her vanity should be checked. she is sometimes invited to the ashleys', where she sees the mode in which mary ashley is dressed, according to the fashion of the world, and it sets her longing. samuel lynn will not listen to me. he is pleased that his child should be received there as mary ashley's equal; he cannot forget the time when he was in a good position himself."

"who teaches anna?"

"she attends a small school for friends, kept by ruth darby. it is the holidays now. her father educates her well. she learns french and drawing, and other branches of study suitable for girls. take care! let me help thee with that heavy table."

presently they went to see how things were getting on in the study. jane could not keep her eyes from the face of that lovely child. it partly hindered her work, which there was little need of on that busy day; a day so busy that they were all glad when it was over, and they were at liberty to retire to rest.

rarely had jane witnessed so beautiful a view as that which met her sight the following morning, when she drew up her blind. the previous day had been hazy—nothing was to be seen; now the atmosphere had cleared. the great extent of scenery spread around, the green fields, the growing corn, the sparkling rivulets, the woods with their darker and their brighter trees, the undulating slopes—all were charming. but beyond all, and far more charming, bounding the landscape in the distant horizon, stretched the long chain of the far-famed malvern hills. as the sun cast upon them its light and shade, their outline so clearly depicted against the sky, and their white villas peeping out from the trees at their base—jane felt that she could have gazed for ever. a wondrous picture is that of malvern, as seen from helstonleigh in the freshness of the early morning.

"edgar!" she impulsively exclaimed, turning to the bed—for mr. halliburton had not risen—"you never saw anything more beautiful than the view from this window. i am sure half the londoners never dreamt of anything like it."

there was no reply. "perhaps he may be still asleep," she thought. but upon approaching the bed, she saw that his eyes were open.

"jane," he gasped, "i am ill."

"ill!" she repeated, a spasm darting through her heart.

"every limb is paining me. my head aches, and i am burning with fever. i have felt it coming on all night."

she bent down; she felt his hands and his hot face—all burning, as he said, with fever.

"we must call in a doctor," she quietly said, suppressing every sign of dismay, that it might not agitate him. "i will ask patience to recommend one."

"yes; better have a doctor at once. what will become of us? if i should be going to have an illness——"

"stay, edgar; do not give way to sad anticipations," she gently said. "a brave mind, you know, goes half way towards a cure. it is the effect of that wetting; the cold must have been smouldering within you."

smouldering only to burst out the fiercer for delay. patience spoke in favour of their own medical man, a mr. parry, who lived near them and had a large practice. he came; and pronounced the malady to be rheumatic fever.