Cut up the horses," said he, with slight impatience of manner; "let us get home quickly.

When I get in the old parlour, and let you bathe my head as you used to, I am sure I shall feel better.

I am almost exhausted from fatigue and heat." "Very well then, dear, don't talk now," she replied, not in the least noticing his impatience of manner; "when you are rested, and have had your tea, will be time enough." They were soon in the old house, and Clarence looked round with a smile of pleasure on the room where he had spent so many happy hours.

Good Aunt Ada would not let him talk, but compelled him to remain quiet until he had rested himself, and eaten his evening meal.
He had altered considerably in the lapse of years, there was but little left to remind one of the slight, melancholy-looking boy, that once stood a heavy-hearted little stranger in the same room, in days gone by.

His face was without a particle of red to relieve its uniform paleness; his eyes, large, dark, and languishing, were half hidden by unusually long lashes; his forehead broad, and surmounted with clustering raven hair; a glossy moustache covered his lip, and softened down its fulness; on the whole, he was strikingly handsome, and none would pass him without a second look.
Tea over, Miss Ada insisted that he should lie down upon the sofa again, whilst she, sat by and bathed his head.