Helen, who had descried Charles before the carriage stopped, descended from her lofty position with dangerous rapidity, and sprang into his arms with a degree of delight, greater, perhaps, than she had ever before felt at seeing him.
The exclamation of Mrs. Mowbray certainly had in it, as the wise vicar predicted, a tone that indicated displeasure as well as surprise; and the embrace, which she could not refuse, was so much less cordial than it was wont to be, that he turned again to Helen, and once more pressed her to his heart, as if to console him for the want of tenderness in his mother's kiss.
Meanwhile, Mr. Stephen Corbold stood under the lofty portico, lost in admiration at the splendid appearance of the house and grounds. Mrs. Mowbray, with a sort of instinctive feeling that this excellent person might not altogether find himself at his ease with her family, hastened towards him, determined that her own Christian humility should at least set them a good example, and putting out both her hands towards him, exclaimed, with an earnestness that sounded almost like the voice of prayer, "Welcome, dear, DEAR, Mr. Corbold, to my house and home! and may you find in it the comfort and hospitality your exemplary character deserves!" Then turning to her son, she added, "I know not how long you are likely to stay away from college, Charles; but while you are here, I beg that you will exert yourself to the very utmost to make Mowbray agreeable to this gentleman; and remember, if you please, that his religious principles, and truly edifying Christian sentiments, are exactly such as I would wish to place before you as an example."
Charles turned round towards the serious attorney, intending to welcome him by an extended hand; but the thing was impossible. There was that in his aspect with which he felt that he could never hold fellowship, and his salutation was turned into a ceremonious bow; a change which it was the less difficult to make, from the respectful distance at which the stranger guest placed himself, while preparing to receive the young man's welcome.
Though Rosalind had purposely remained in her own apartment till the first meeting with Charles was over, Helen was already in her arms; having exchanged a hasty kiss with Fanny, whom she met in the hall, hastening to receive her mother.
"Oh! my dearest Rosalind! How thankful am I to be once more with you again! I never, I think, shall be able to endure the sight of London again as long as I live. I have been so very, very wretched there!"
"Upon my word, Helen, I have not lived upon roses since you went. You can hardly be so glad to come back, as I am to have you. What did your mother say on seeing Charles?"
"I hardly know. She did not, I think, seem pleased to see him: but I am more delighted at the chance that has brought him, let it be what it will, than I have words to express. Oh! it is such a blessing to me!—dear, dear, Charles! he knows not what a treasure he is. The very sight of him has cured all my sorrows—and yet I was dreadfully miserable just now."
"Then, thank Heaven! he is here, my own Helen! But tell me, dearest, what is it has made you miserable? Though you tell me it is over, the tears seemed ready to start when you said so."
"Oh! my woes will make a long story, Rosalind; and some of them must be for your ear only; but this shall be at night, when nobody is near to hear us:—but, by the way, you must have a great deal to tell me. How comes it that Charles is here? And, what seems stranger still, how comes it that, as he is here, you have not been living upon roses?"