They were loved.
The sunshine of that sweet nature, which had warmed their father's heart, and made it blossom out, when past life's summer, with all the freshness of spring, had shined down upon these poor little desolate, motherless children, and made them good and happy--good, perhaps, because they were happy, and most certainly happy because they were good.
For that mother--their real mother, who, living, had been to them--what Christian never allowed herself to inquire or even to speculate--she was gone now.

And being no longer an imperfect woman, but a disembodied spirit--perhaps--who knows ?--she might be looking down on them all, purified from every feeling but gladness; content that her children were taken care of and led so tenderly into the right way.
Clear and sweet rose up their voices in the familiar words, over which their step-mother's voice, keeping them all steady with its soft undertone, faltered more than once, especially when she thought of all the "blessings" which had to come to herself since the dawning "light:" _"Glory to Thee, my God, this night, For all the blessings of the light.
Keep me, oh keep me, King of kings, Beneath Thine own almighty wings!"_ The strain had just ended--as if he had waited for its ending--when the drawing-room door opened, and there entered for the second time into the family circle at the Lodge--Sir Edwin Uniacke.
Certainly the young man was no coward, or he never would have entered there.

When he did so, bold as he looked, with his easy "fast" air, his handsome face flushed, as if with just a little too long lingering over wine, he involuntarily drew back a step, apparently feeling that the atmosphere of this peaceful home was not fitted for him, or that he himself was not fitted to be present there.
"I fear that I may be intruding, but I have only just received a message you sent me; I had been out all day, and I leave Avonsbridge early tomorrow," he began to say, hesitatingly, apologetically.
"I am glad to see you," said the master.

"Christian, will you send the children away?
or rather, Sir Edwin, will you come to my study ?" "With pleasure," was the answer, as with an altogether perplexed air, and vainly striving to keep up his usual exceeding courtesy of manner, the young man bowed to Mrs.Grey and passed out.
"How funny! That's Sir Edwin Uniacke, Titia--the gentleman that met me, and--" "And that you were always talking about, till Phillis told us we mustn't speak of him any more.

And I think I know why, mother." hanging down her head with rosy blushes that made the thin face almost pretty.
"Mother, I think I ought to tell you--I always do tell you every thing now--that that was the gentleman who met me and Miss Bennett.