of his withered hands-in the next they had glided from the room. "Alas!" said Florence, as she that night stretched herself upon her bed, and laid her aching head upon her sister's breast; "alas that I could ever think with delight on the flowery fields of Provence-they will be indeed all too dearly purchased." 41 CHAPTER V. THE next morning they left the Priory. The last of the preparations consisted in the completion of a small travelling cage for Cheri, to be hung up in Mr. Maitland's carriage, -John had been strongly advised by the other servants to leave the little bird behind, but he repelled the idea with indignation. "What!" he said, "leave Cheri behindleave the creature to whom my master owes the principal happiness of his life? No, no, that's not our way in Scotland of treating a faithful friend. And look to Mrs. Nurse, look at the trouble she has taken in fitting up that fine basket for Frisk-the best lord of the land might be grateful for such a bed." Cheri and Frisk were accordingly of the party, and displayed a degree of fortitude in quitting their happy home, which the other members of the family in vain struggled to acquire. Cheri sang louder than he had ever sung before, and Frisk wagged his tail. Never had the Priory looked more beautiful than at the moment the travellers were about to quit it for an uncertain period. It was a bright October morning, the yellow woods were yet sparkling in the early dew, the soft green hills reposing in the sunshine; and the smoke from the cheerful cottages rose slowly on the quiet air, and mingled with the deep azure of the unclouded sky. As they passed through the village several of the inhabitants ran for a little way by the side of the carriage, and some of the young girls threw in nosegays of flowers. "God bless you all, my good friends !" exclaimed Mr. Percy, leaning from the carriage window, and waving his hand, "and now go back I entreat you-if it is the will of Heaven, we shall all return to you again, and I trust at no very distant day." It was a wish which was echoed in every breast. Mrs. Percy could only silently ac knowledge the blessings which were poured upon her; she repressed all violent emotion, but looked extremely pale. The little Charles was the only one whose spirits did not flag,—he sat on Mary's knee, delighted with his situation, and making his remarks on every object as he passed along; but observing, at last, that he was not answered as usual, he peeped up under Mary's bonnet, and exclaimed, "What for you cry, Minny? me no cry, me brave boy me no flightened going a France; me laughing." "Dear boy," said Mary, "I am not frightened, I am only sorry." "But me no sorry, me go with papa and mamma, and Minny and Flo. "Yes," said Mrs. Percy," and you should be a good, grateful little boy, for having such kind friends to love you, and to take care of you.” "Me grateful, me grateful in the court a morning." "Grateful in the court this morning," said Mrs. Percy; "what do you mean, love?” "Me grateful, not a big birdy-big birdy stand a one leg all the winter, all the winter." "It is the stork he is thinking of," exclaimed Florence, laughing; "I heard nurse telling him that the poor stork stood on one leg all the winter; and that he should be grateful for his warm bed." "He is a dear little fellow," exclaimed Mr. Percy, kissing him, "a very pleasant little intelligent travelling-companion, and we are much obliged to him for having given a more cheerful turn to our ideas. My love," he continued, turning to Mrs. Percy, and taking her hand, "I fear the emotion and fatigue of this day will be too much for you; we must go but a little way at first." "I don't think that will be necessary," Mrs. Percy answered, in a cheerful tone of voice; "believe me, dear Charles, I am infinitely stronger than I appear to be. I had several things still to arrange this morning, things which could not be sealed up till the last moment, yet I do not feel at all fatigued; no, I may say with our dear little boy, I go with all I love, and am neither sorry nor afraid.— |