ver
thought he was so very ill. Do you think he is really going to die?"

"Yes, dear. I should think he will not get well. But you need not be
sorry, Arthur. Don't you see, he says he is not afraid; and the world is
not such a very bright place that he should be sorry to go, when he knows
he has such a home. Don't you think so, darling?"

"Yes," said Arthur; but the tears had dimmed his blue eyes, and a sudden
feeling in his throat made him stop speaking.

When Mrs. Estcourt was sitting with her work by the drawing-room fire,
with Arthur by her side, much more quietly and gravely than was usual with
him, he said suddenly:

"But, aunt, when are you going to answer that letter?"

"That is just the question I was asking myself, and the answer was, 'Now.'
What shall I say, Arthur?"

"Well, don't you think I had better go?"

"Yes, surely, dear. But how are you going to get there? You cannot travel
by yourself."

"Oh, aunt!" said Arthur, almost in an alarmed tone of voice, "I should
hope I am old enough. Why, of course I could. The idea of anybody taking
care of me!"

"Well, but," said Mrs. Estcourt, smiling, "that is just what I have been
thinking about all this time. I have been thinking that I should feel very
unhappy, if I let you go alone. It may be foolish, Arthur; but, you know,
your father and mother gave you to me to take care of for them."

"I know," said Arthur impatiently, "they would let me go by myself. I
could not bear to have any old man or woman looking after me."

"They need not be old, you know," said his aunt. "Now, Arthur," she added
very decidedly, "there is no use saying anything more about it. If you go
at all, I must know that some one is in the carriage with you. I need not
tell them to take care of you, but I must know that some one will be
there; and I know Mrs. Maitland is going to London to-morrow, so I shall
find out what train she is going by." Arthur made an impatient movement;
he did not say any more, but a look was on his face that showed what he
was feeling. As it happened, he need not have been so disgusted. When the
time for starting came, and he was taking his seat in the carriage, he
found that the lady had already taken her place there; and it was not so
very trying to his feelings as he expected, for Mrs. Estcourt only said,
"This is my little nephew, Mrs. Maitland; he is going to London, and I am
glad to think he is in your company."

"She never asked her to take care o