him an education, and supporting him in part while at the Normal School in Toronto.  Just before he died, he exerted his influence to obtain a Government berth for him, and that was the whole story.  The lawyer saw it all now, and learned too late what a foolish fellow he had been.  Of course, there were old times, and they had much to talk of, and she could not help being civil to him, and being angry when he had reminded her father’s protege of his early poverty.  Coristine sighed, and felt that, if Lamb had been present, he would have apologized to him.  To cheer him up, the Captain invited him to join Mrs. Thomas and himself on a cruise in the Susan.  He would have enjoyed it immensely he said, but, having made so many assertions of pressing business in the city, he had to be consistent and miserable.  At Barrie, he bade his last friends adieu, parted affectionately with The Crew, and then gazed longingly at the spars of the Susan Thomas in Kempenfeldt Bay.  If only the Captain had brought the two Marjories for a cruise, he would have shipped with him for a month, and have let business go to the dogs.  There were no more objects of interest till he arrived in Toronto, took a streetcar, and deposited himself, much to that lady’s astonishment, in his bachelor’s quarters at Mrs. Marsh’s boarding-house.  After a special lunch, he sat down to smoke and read a little Browning.

It was very late when Mr. Terry and Timotheus arrived at Bridesdale.  All the ladies had retired, with the exception of Mrs. Carruthers, who had staid up to await her father’s arrival.  The gentlemen of the party were the Squire, quite clear in head and not much the worse of his crack on the skull, Mr. Bigglethorpe, and Mr. Errol, who had been induced to continue his splore in the office.  He was still renewing his youth, when the veteran entered all alone, and said he didn’t mind if he did help Mr. Bigglethorpe with that decanter, for it was tiresome work driving.

“Where is Mr. Coristine, grandfather?” asked the Squire.

“It’s in Collinwud he is an his way to Teranty.”

“What! do you mean to say he has left us, gone for good?”

“That’s fwhat it is.  Oi prished ’em, an’ porshwaded ’em, an’ towld ’em it was desprut anggery an’ graved yeez wud aall be.  Says he Oi’ve bud ‘em aall good-boye an’ Oi’m goin’ home to bishness.  It was lucky for you, Squoire, that it wasn’t lasht noight he wint.”

“It is that, grandfather.  I’d have been a dead man.  He maun hae focht yon deevil like a wild cat tae get oot o’ the way o’s pistols and things.”

“‘Twas Timawtheus as kim up furrust an’ tuk the thafe av a Rawdon out av his arrums, for he grupped ’em good an’ toight.”

“Well done, Timotheus!” said Mr. Errol.  “He’s a fine lad, Mr. Bigglethorpe, though a bit clumsy in his ways.”

“We can’t all be handsome, sir,” answered that gentleman.  “If he’s got the good principle in him, that’s the mine thing, so I always say.”