registered a vow to reprove his little love for applying the word pig to a young lady.  He did not know whether to be glad or sorry that Miss Carmichael’s case was left in his hands.  Of course he could not refuse it.  If this man Douglas had to go up to Bridesdale, he supposed he would have to introduce him, and watch him on behalf of his client.  A great heiress, perhaps with a title for all he knew, would be very unlikely to take more than a passing interest in her solicitor.  Still, it cut him to the heart that the girl was as Mr. Errol represented her.  Doubtless she was quite right in not acknowledging his business note in person.  Then he laid down his pipe, put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, exclaiming bitterly, “O Marjorie, Marjorie.”

Before the end of the week, the Squire received answers to his official and non-official letters, accepting the trust confided to him, and regretting that Miss Carmichael had given the writer no opportunity of more fully explaining himself.  The non-official letter also stated that the lady’s position was so much changed by the prospect of a large fortune as to make it little less than dishonourable in him to press his suit, at least in the meantime.  Mrs. Carruthers also received a promise that the lawyer would, if practicable, accompany Mr. Douglas to Bridesdale.  Mr. Errol reported a nice letter received by him from the same quarter, along with the “Civitate Dei” and some reviews.  Wilkinson was in clover so far as papers and magazines were concerned, and both Miss Carmichael and Miss Du Plessis were remembered with appropriate literary pabulum of the same nature.  More bonbons for the juveniles arrived by Saturday night, and a letter for Marjorie.

My Dear Little Love, Marjorie.—­It was very kind of you to remember your poor boy in his exile from home in the big, hot, dusty city.  I liked your dear little letter very much, all except that one word about you know who.  I am sure you did not think, or you would never have written so of one so good and kind to you and me.  You will not say that any more I am sure.  I have put your letter and the flowers you were so kind as to pick and dry for me in my best drawer where I keep my treasures.  I send you a new picture book just out, with many coloured plates of flowers in it.  When I come up you must tell me if you know their names.  Please tell your cousins’ grandpapa that I would like very much if he were here, or I were there, that we might have a nice quiet smoke and talk together.  I am sorry poor old Muggins is dead.  You did not tell me what killed him.  Tryphena ought to make Sylvanus buy a spelling book to study while he is on watch in your papa’s ship.  Your papa and mamma asked me to go for a sail with them, but I had to go to town.  Now, my little love, be very kind and nice to everybody, and above all to your dear cousins, big and little, and when I come up and hear how good you have been, we will fish in the creek on week days