pose himself in its shacks and quietness. Mr Hope had
felt, for a month past, that such a letter was by this time due to
Frank, and that he had, for once, failed in punctuality: but he now, for
the first time, found it difficult to get time to write. He never
dreamed of sending Frank letters, which would be esteemed by others of a
moderate length. When he did write, it was an epistle indeed: and
during this particular May and June, there was always something
happening which prevented his having his hours to himself. In other
words, he was always at the Greys' when not engaged in his professional
duties. The arrival of a letter from Frank one day gave him the
necessary stimulus, and he sat down on the instant to open his heart to
his brother.

Frank was his younger and only brother, and the person in the world most
deeply indebted to him. Their parents being dead, it was Edward who had
been Frank's dependence as he grew up. It was Edward who had, at great
cost and pains, gratified his wish to go into the army, and had procured
him the best educational advantages in preparation for a military life.
It was Edward who had always treated him with such familiar friendship,
that he had scarcely felt as if he wanted any other intimate, and who
seemed to forget the five years' difference of age between them at all
times but when it afforded a reason for pressing kindness and assistance
upon him. The confidence between them was as familiar and entire as if
they had been twin-brothers. The epistle which Frank was to have the
benefit of, on the present occasion, was even longer than usual, from
the delay which had caused an accumulation of tidings and of thoughts.

"Deerbrook, _June 20th_, 18--.

"Dear Frank,--Your letter of December last has arrived to remind me
how far I am past my time in writing to you. I make no apologies for
my delay, however, and I do not pretend to feel any remorse about it.
We never write to one another from a mere sense of duty; and long may
it be before we do so! Unless we write because we cannot help it,
pray let us let it alone. As for the reasons why my inclination to
talk to you has not overpowered all impediments till now,--you shall
have them by-and-by. Meanwhile, here, before your eyes, is the proof
that I cannot but spend this June evening with you.

"You ask about your grandfather; and I have somewhat to say to you
about him. He is still living,--very inf