“16th.-—These amiable folks want to take Lida off with them, not to say myself, to their ‘Underwood’ in the Rockies; but I don’t intend her to be semi-lady’s-maid, semi-companion, as she is becoming, but to let her stand on her own legs, or mine, and put her to a good school at New York.  I have finished an article on ’Transatlantic Travellers’ for the ‘Censor’, also some reviews, and another paper that may pave my way to work in New York or elsewhere.  My craving is for the work of hard hands, but I look at mine, and fear I run more to the brain than the hands.  My father must have been of finer physique than the Sioux bullet left to me; but I have no fears.”

“No, indeed,” sighed Geraldine; “he has not the fine athletic strength of his dear father, but still—-still I think there is that in him which Edgar had not.”

“Force of character,” said Clement, “even if he is wrong-headed.  Here is Fernan’s letter—-

“’Imagine my amazement at finding Gerald on board with us.  He tells me that you are aware of his escapade, so I need not explain it.  He is not very gracious to either of us, and absolutely refuses all offers of assistance either for himself or his sister.  However, I hope to be able to keep a certain watch over him without offending him, and to obviate some of the difficulties in his way, perhaps unknown to him.  Marilda has, as usual, suffered greatly on the voyage, but the little Lida, as he calls her, has been most attentive and useful both to her and her maid, who was quite helpless, and much the worst of the two.  My wife was much prejudiced against Lida at first, but has become very fond of her, and is sure that she is a thoroughly good girl-—worth the sacrifice Gerald has made for her.  In his independent mood, he will not hear of our offering a home to the poor child; but if, as I hope, your researches turn out in his favour, he may consent to let us find suitable education for her.  At any rate, I promise Geraldine not to leave these two young things to their fate, though I may have to act secretly.  I can never forget how I took him from his father’s side, and the baptism almost in blood.  We go to New Orleans first, and after the cold weather home, but letters to the Bank will find us.’”

“Good, dear old Fernan and Marilda!” cried Geraldine, “I can see their kindness, and how, with all their goodness, it must jar on Gerald’s nerves.”

“I hope he won’t be an ass,” returned Clement.  “Such patient goodness ought not to be snubbed by-—” He caught his sister’s eye, and made his last words “youthful theorists.”

Mrs. Henderson too forwarded a letter from Lida, being sure that it would be a great pleasure to Mrs. Grinstead.  It went into many more particulars about the miseries of the circus training than had been known before, and the fears and hints which made it plain that it had been quite right to avail herself of the means of escape; after which was added—-