“Then why make it, mother?  I can readily find a substitute; there is Mrs. Foster, whose health would be greatly benefited by a long sea voyage.  She, I feel certain, would think it a great boon to be allowed this opportunity of going without expense and in the company of two young people of whom she is very fond.  And you know, mother, that though poor now she was formerly wealthy, is a perfect lady, and her having been to Europe once or twice would make her all the more valuable companion to them.”

“You are quite too late with your suggestion, Arthur,” was the coldly spoken reply.  “I have passed my word and shall not break it.”

Her son gave her a look of keen scrutiny, then turned his face from her with a scarcely audible sigh.  He read her motives and feelings far more clearly than she suspected.

The truth was she was weary of the dulness of home now that the shadow of bereavement was upon it, and the etiquette of mourning forbade her attendance upon public assemblages of whatever kind, except church, and did not allow even so much as a formal call upon strangers or acquaintance.  The society of her now old, feeble, and depressed father was wearisome to her also.

Beside she had long had a hankering after a European tour, and this was too good an opportunity to let slip.  Also it would give her a chance to see for herself what was the trouble with Virginia, whose letters of late had been of a very disquieting kind; full of reproaches and vague hints of unhappiness and disappointment in her new life.

There would probably be a few hours between their arrival in New York and the sailing of the steamer, in which she could call to see Virginia and learn with certainty exactly how she was situated.

Mrs. Travilla received the news of her aunt’s offer with a gratitude which it by no means merited, and the younger Elsie, though not fond of her Aunt Louise’s society, felt that her presence might prove a comfort and support when she and Edward should find themselves strangers in a foreign land.

The mother sought this dear eldest child with loving words of cheer and counsel whenever she could be spared from the sick-room, and Violet, Harold, and Herbert hung about her as a treasure soon to be snatched from them, each eager to render any assistance in his or her power.

The hour of parting came all too soon, and with many tears and embraces the young travellers were sent on their way.

The mother’s last words to Elsie, as she held her close to her heart with many a tear and tender caress, were:  “’Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them, for the Lord thy God, he it is that doth go with thee, he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.’  To him, the God of your fathers, do I trust you, my precious child.”

“You also, my dear, dear boy!” taking Edward’s hand:  “but rejoice in the thought that you are together, mutual helpers and comforters.”