CHAPTER XLII.
September 1st .-- No Mr.Huntingdon yet.

Perhaps he will stay among his friends till Christmas; and then, next spring, he will be off again.

If he continue this plan, I shall be able to stay at Grassdale well enough--that is, I shall be able to stay, and that is enough; even an occasional bevy of friends at the shooting season may be borne, if Arthur get so firmly attached to me, so well established in good sense and principles before they come that I shall be able, by reason and affection, to keep him pure from their contaminations.

Vain hope, I fear! but still, till such a time of trial comes I will forbear to think of my quiet asylum in the beloved old hall.
Mr.and Mrs.Hattersley have been staying at the Grove a fortnight: and as Mr.Hargrave is still absent, and the weather was remarkably fine, I never passed a day without seeing my two friends, Milicent and Esther, either there or here.

On one occasion, when Mr.Hattersley had driven them over to Grassdale in the phaeton, with little Helen and Ralph, and we were all enjoying ourselves in the garden--I had a few minutes' conversation with that gentleman, while the ladies were amusing themselves with the children.
'Do you want to hear anything of your husband, Mrs.Huntingdon ?' said he.
'No, unless you can tell me when to expect him home.' 'I can't .-- You don't want him, do you ?' said he, with a broad grin.
'No.' 'Well, I think you're better without him, sure enough--for my part, I'm downright weary of him.