In the part of the cloister wall that lay within the churchyard precincts were two or three memorials of Underwoods who did not lie buried there, and to these Felix had added a brass cross with an inscription bearing the names of Edward Underwood and Mary Wilmet his wife. Mr. Audley looked at these earnestly, marvelling all the more at his friend's resolute content in his exclusion from this lovely spot, and from thence he was led to the little grave, now marked with a white marble cross, bearing on the foot the word 'Ephphatha.' What better could have been wished for that little helpless being? Fulbert was of course more interested in the willow tree. He swung himself over the bank and calculated the height with wonder, demanding of Felix how the feat had been possible to him. 'I can't tell,' answered he, 'I have wondered since. It was very foolish of me not to have done like Charlie. He was the hero.'

'Ah! Charlie is a regular fish, at home in the water or out,' said his father, well pleased.

And they looked at the 'fish,' who was standing a little way off, with Stella beside him, with down-cast eyes. He had made two attempts already to pour out his plans on Felix, who had cruelly answered that he could listen to nothing till the examination was over, and consent gained, and ruthlessly cut him off from all private interviews, not choosing to give anything that could be construed into the most tacit encouragement—but not able to find it in his heart to interfere with the present enjoyment, though it was not in the bond.

As to the church, now brought to all the glory that reverent hands, careful taste, and well-judged expenditure could give it, the contrast was not small from the dreary bepewed building, and all its native beauties were unobscured or renovated. Very happy were Clement and Cherry in pointing them out one by one, and telling the story of the fragments whose forms had guided the restoration, and Felix sat by on a bench, enjoying the evening mystery of soft darkness as it fell on the archings and vaultings, and putting in his word now and then in the pleasant history of the four years' work.

'Yes, Felix, I do congratulate you! Nay, more! I shall give thanks for what I have seen to-day,' said Mr. Audley in a low voice, as they went to robe for even-song.

And Felix added, 'Thank you. But pray for me, too.'

It was well he had an appreciative admirer for his dear Vale Leston in Mr. Audley, for Fulbert, untrained in antiquities, and with colonial 'nil admirari' ways, did not enter into the charms of grey walls, nor understand ecstasies over the proportions of arches, while even in the house, he agreed with Mrs. Lamb that oak wainscot was dismally dark, and that the furniture was worn and old-fashioned. He could not feel at home. 'It was all very fine perhaps,' he said, 'but it didn't seem natural,' and he eagerly accepted the Lambs' invitation to return with them to Bexley. 'I can't help it,' he apologized, 'I'll soon come back, but I shall not know I'm at home till I've seen Lance and the old house. It's all different here, and you are all grown such swells, and the little ones are so big, and Blunderbore looks as if he had been lost for a month in the bush, and I sha'n't get my bearings till I've been down to the old place, and seen Lance and the fellows there.'

So almost as suddenly as they had come, the Australian visitors vanished, leaving behind them only the security that they were within reach. Captain Audley went with his son and brother, and quiet was left to prevail at Vale Leston. The first break was a message brought in the forenoon to the study, where Felix saw to letters and attended to business more slowly and with more pauses and effort, but not less effectively than heretofore. 'Miss Hepburn would be glad to speak to you, sir.'

'Which Miss Hepburn, Amelia?'

'Miss Isabella, sir.'