t
first disposed to accede to Juliet's suggestion. Upon farther
reflection, however, he thought it wiser to let the matter drop. Aside
from anxiety, the expenses would be great. His adversaries had taken
time by the forelock, and had taken care doubtless to cover up their
tracks.

He was now independent; his business needed all his attention; he would
not risk the certain for the uncertain. He would look out for his share
yet unappropriated in the city, though Captain St. Leger, at his last
visit home, had given deed to Juliet of the house she since her marriage
had occupied.

But the settlement of the St. Leger estate does not materially concern
us. It had the effect, however, of completely alienating Juliet from her
sisters.

Leonora was still childless, though she had so far changed her
resolution as to have received two children into her house. She could
scarcely have done otherwise. It had been announced by letter from
Philip that a cargo of eleven children from his mission were about to
sail, and would reach New York at about a given time. Three of these
children were his, and he hoped his sisters would find places for them
in their families, and interest themselves in seeking good homes for the
remaining others.

Philip wrote that expediency alone could have induced them to part with
the dear children. Their hearts were torn asunder, etc., etc. The
touching letter was read from the preacher's desk. There was not a dry
eye in the house, nor a heart that did not long to clasp the foreign
missionary waifs. The trouble was not in getting homes in sufficient
number for the children--there were not enough children for the homes
offered. It would be such a blessed privilege to have a missionary's
child in the house. The various Judson children that were scattered here
and there were perpetual curiosities. Their very presence was enough to
sanctify, dignify, and make illustrious any house wherein they might
dwell.

There never occurred to Philip when he wrote, to the city preacher when
he read, nor to the congregation who listened to the pathetic story of
the "hearts torn asunder," an idea as to the incompatibility of
missionary life with raising a family of children; nor that each and
every missionary father had better have given his heart a decided wrench
in the beginning, by abstaining from marriage, than have been a victim
to perpetual domestic anxiety and have suffered such ever-recurring
wounds.

At first