Willy, a nice intelligent little fellow, grew very fond of him, and spent much time with him, taking delight in his books and prints, beyond what could have been thought possible in one of the Sutton Leigh party.

When he was strong enough to guide a pencil or pen, a very enjoyable correspondence commenced between him and his mother, who was still unable to leave her apartment; and hardly any one ever passed between the two rooms without being the bearer of some playful greeting, or droll descriptions of the present scene and occupation, chronicles of the fashionable arrivals of the white clouds before the window, of a bunch of violets, or a new book; the fashionable departure of the headache, the fire, or a robin; notices that tom-tits were whetting their saws on the next tree, or of the domestic proceedings of the rooks who were building their house opposite to Mrs. Frederick Langford’s window, and whom she watched so much that she was said to be in a fair way of solving the problem of how many sticks go to a crow’s nest; criticisms of the books read by each party, and very often a reference to that celebrated billet, unfortunately delivered over night to Prince Talleyrand, informing him that his devoted friend had scarcely closed her eyes all night, and then only to dream of him!

Henrietta grew very happy.  She had her brother again, as wholly hers as in their younger days,—­depending upon her, participating in all her pleasures, or rather giving her favourite occupations double zest, by their being for him, for his amusement.  She rode and walked in the beautiful open spring country with grandpapa, to whom she was a most valuable companion; and on her return she had two to visit, both of whom looked forward with keen interest and delight to hearing her histories of down and wood, of field and valley, of farm-house, cottage, or school; had a laugh for the least amusing circumstance, admiration for the spring flower or leaf, and power to follow her descriptions of budding woods, soft rising hills, and gorgeous sunsets.  How her mamma enjoyed comparing notes with her about those same woods and dells, and would describe the adventures of her own youth!  And now it might be noticed that she did not avoid speaking of those in which Henrietta’s father had been engaged; nay, she dwelt on them by preference, and without the suppressed sigh which had formerly followed anything like a reference to him.  Sometimes she would smile to identify the bold open down with the same where she had run races with him, and even laugh to think of the droll adventures.  Sometimes the shady woodland walk would make her describe their nutting parties, or it would bring her thoughts to some fit of childish mischief and concealment, and to the confession to which his bolder and more upright counsel had at length led her.  Or she would tell of the long walks they had taken together when older grown, when each had become prime counsellor and confidante of