“Mother,” said Fritz, taking Mrs. Becker’s arm, “I want you all to myself.”

“I object to that, if you please,” cried Jack, taking her other arm.

“Why, you boys seem extravagantly fond of your mother to-day,” said Mrs. Becker, gaily.

“Well, you see, mother, we have the right to have an idea now and then—­Willis has one every week.”

“So long as your ideas are about myself, I have no reason to object to them,” said Mrs. Becker, smiling.

“We have always been dutiful sons, have we not, mother?” inquired Fritz.

“Yes, always.”

“You are well pleased with us then?”

“Yes, surely.”

“We have never caused you any uneasiness, have we?” inquired Jack.

“That is to say, inadvertently,” added Fritz; “designedly is out of the question.”

“No, not even inadvertently,” replied their mother.

“Were you very sorry when Frank and Ernest were going to leave us?”

“Yes, my children, the tears still burn my cheek.”

“Nevertheless, you knew that it was for the common welfare, and you felt resigned to the separation.”

“But why do you ask such a question now?”

“Well, a propos de rien, mother,” replied Jack, “simply because we love you, and, like misers, we treasure your love.”

Towards the afternoon both families were again assembled under the trees at Falcon’s Nest This time it was dinner that brought them together; the repast consisted of cold meats of various kinds, but the chief dish was a wonderful salad, the rich, fresh odor of which perfumed the air.  Wolston, Frank, and Ernest kept up a lively conversation, yet, though all seemed happy and pleased, there were bursting hearts at the table that day.”

“I am going to take a turn in the pinnace to-morrow,” said Willis, quietly; “who will go with me?”

“I will!” cried all the four brothers.

“I shall require you, Frank and Ernest, to take a look at the rice plantation to-morrow,” said Becker, “so I wish you to put off the excursion till another time.”

“We are at your orders, father,” replied the two young men.

“Where are you going, Willis?” inquired Mrs. Wolston.

“Well, I am anxious to discover whether we inhabit an island or a continent, and may, consequently, extend the survey beyond the points already known; so you must not be disappointed should we not return the same night.”

“But what is the good of such an expedition?” inquired Mrs. Becker.

“The country may be inhabited, or there may be inhabited islands in the vicinity,” replied Willis.

“If there be natives anywhere near,” said Mrs. Becker, “they have left us at peace hitherto, and, in my opinion, since the dog sleeps, it will be prudent for us to let it lie.”

“It is not a question of creating any inconvenience,” suggested Becker, “but only to ascertain more accurately our geographical position:  such a knowledge can do us no possible harm, but, some day, it may be of immense service to us.”