She could not be happy, however, till she had made Mr Arabin take the child to himself, and thus, as it were, adopt him as his own. The moment the idea struck her she took the baby in her arms, and, opening her door, ran quickly down to the drawing–room. She at once found, by the step still pacing on the floor, that he was there; and a glance within the room told her that he was alone. She hesitated a moment, and then hurried in with her precious charge.

Mr Arabin met her in the middle of the room. ‘There,’ said she, breathless with her haste; ‘there, take him—take him and love him.’

Mr Arabin took the little fellow from her, and kissing him again and again, prayed God to bless him. ‘He shall be all as my own— all as my own,’ said he. Eleanor, as she stooped to take back her child, kissed the hand that held him, and then rushed back with her treasure to her chamber.

It was then that Mr Harding’s younger daughter was won for the second time. At dinner neither she nor Mr Arabin were very bright, but their silence occasioned no remark. In the drawing–room, as we have before said, she told Miss Thorne what had occurred. The next morning she returned to Barchester, and Mr Arabin went over with his budget of news to the archdeacon. As Dr Grantly was not there, he could only satisfy himself by telling Mrs Grantly how that he intended himself the honour of becoming her brother–in–law. In the ecstasy of her joy at hearing such tidings, Mrs Grantly vouchsafed him a warmer welcome than any he had yet received from Eleanor.

‘Good heavens!’ she exclaimed—it was the general exclamation of the rectory. ‘Poor Eleanor! Dear Eleanor. What monstrous injustice has been done her!—Well, it shall all be made up now.’ And then she thought of the signora. ‘What lies people tell,’ she said to herself.

But people in this matter had told no lies at all.