The third month of Kate's purgatorial sojourn, was opening gloomily enough, when one Sunday morning, as they were assembled at breakfast, in more than usually gorgeous array--as a popular preacher was expected to draw "a full house--" a loud ring announced the post.
"I'll engage it's for Miss Vernon," said Mrs. Jorrocks, "I never see such a many letters as you do get."
But Kate did not heed her, her eyes were fastened on the letter handed across the table by Master Pem. who detained it to read the direction, observing--"It's a gentleman's hand," and eliciting a stern--"Hold your tongue, sir," from his father. A mist swam before Kate's eyes, and a spasm of hope and fear shook her heart as she recognised Langley's hand, "it must be a letter from Mr. Winter," she murmured, "will you allow me?" and with trembling fingers broke the seal--but no, it was from Langley himself. Oh, Heavens! had any thing happened.
"I lose no time in informing you that I had a letter this morning from Winter, dated the 20th, nearly three weeks ago; he writes in good health and spirits, and talks of returning immediately; he is anxious to know where you are; uncertainty on this point, from some passage in your last letter, having kept him silent. I should not be surprised at his arrival any day.
"Hoping this letter may find you well, and in haste to catch the post.
The first movement of her mind was disappointment, that Winter had not written to herself.
"I thought I told him to direct as usual, to Mr. Langley; there must have been some mistake; I forget what I wrote, but he may be back very soon, perhaps next week--and then--"
What a bright indistinct feeling of hope and freedom expanded her heart--yet she felt strangely nervous and trembling, as if the shadow of some coming crisis had fallen upon her, and she hastily swallowed a glass of cold water to refresh her parched mouth, before performing the inevitable journey to church.
Mr. Wilson's pew was irreproachable in point of size and position, it was not however faultless, for a large pillar, supporting the gallery, reduced one corner to an invisible nook, where the most splendid bonnet, and richest brocade might be for ever hidden from the eyes of an admiring congregation. Here Kate had established her position, and was permitted to retain it unmolested, and in most profound and grateful thanksgiving she knelt that morning.