'It was; for your father's health was giving way under the strain. He would have it that you, our first child, born just when our troubles were greatest, were the herald of the peace that was coming; and when he gave you his mother's name, he called you also Olive. You were the first he christened at the little church here, and "Dorothy Olive" the first name he wrote on the parish register.'
'Was Madam at the Hall then?' asked her daughter.
'No; the Squire brought home his bride two years later, before your sister was born; and Mrs Melton used to come and see us very often. As you know, she gave Juliet her own name. We thought it rather fanciful, but could not refuse so kind a friend.' Mrs Linley looked up and smiled as the owner of it entered the room—a younger copy of herself, small, and with the same sweet tender eyes.
'Mother dear,' said the new-comer, seating herself beside her, 'do you know what it is my godmother is coming to talk about this afternoon?'
'No, my child: perhaps some parish matter.'
'Perhaps,' said Dorothy from the window, 'it may be the long-talked-of visit to London.'
'Oh, if it should!' cried Juliet, her face flushing with delight at the thought.
'Well, we shall not have long to wait,' answered their mother, laying down her work; 'for I hear the wheels coming up the avenue;' and the Squire's large roomy carriage, drawn by its two sleek well-fed horses, drawing up to the door, they all rose to receive their guest.
CHAPTER II.—VISITS.
And so it proved. Around the tea-table the purpose was unfolded; for the warm-hearted mistress of the Hall had come to ask to carry off her favourite. 'Mr Melton and I have been thinking lately,' she explained, 'that if we put it off much longer we shall not care to undertake such a journey; and we should like to take Juliet to see London: it is an old promise; and we like to have young folks about us.'