"Poor thing!" she murmured, returning Caroline's kiss: "poor lonely lamb! But come," she added abruptly; "come, we must go home."

For a short distance Mrs. Pryor walked very fast: by degrees, however, she calmed down to her wonted manner, fell into her usual characteristic pace,—a peculiar one like all her movements,—and by the time they reached Fieldhead, she had reentered into herself: the outside was, as usual, still and shy.