How the night has cleared!' She turned back to her book.

Agnes was writing letters.

Mrs.Leyburn was sitting by the bit of fire that was generally lit for her benefit in the evenings, her white shawl dropping gracefully about her, a copy of the _Cornhill_ on her lap.

But she was not reading, she was meditating, and the girls thought her out of spirits.

The hall door opened.
'There is some one with Catherine!' cried Rose starting up.