it not been for the fact that while the
mothers were entertaining each other, he was left to entertain the
children, who, of course, were soon almost constantly together, and were
not long in becoming as familiar and affectionate as brother and sister.

It was not long until Mr. Scofield conceived the idea of a marriage between
these two children when they should arrive at proper age; and this finally
became the darling wish and object of his life.

It does not come within the scope of this sketch, to dwell upon particulars
in regard to the affairs of these two happily situated families, and so we
pass over the intervening years, until Charles, at seventeen, was sent to
College. About the same time Mr. Scofield was called away to the West
Indies on business, and by his advice, the two widows were to live together
during his absence.

He had never breathed his intentions concerning the young people to any
one, and he hoped no interference would be required, but that the constant
association of the two would naturally result in an attachment like the one
he so anxiously desired to spring up between them.

Charles made rapid progress at college, and in three years graduated with
honor. During these three years he had seen his uncle but once, as his
India business was much more complicated than he had expected to find it,
and detained him, with the exception of a brief visit home, a little over
three years in arranging it, which, was finally done by closing it up and
removing his funds nearer home.

He was very proud of Charles as a student, and often prophesied great
things for him; but he was sorry to be able to perceive no signs of an
attachment like that of lovers existing between the young folks. Still he
was hopeful. They might love and not know it themselves; if so, it would
require something to awaken them to a consciousness of the fact. He
resolved on trying an experiment. Meeting Ida alone, he said:

"Do you know, my dear, that I am about to send Charles away?"

"No. Where is he going?"

"Where there is a possibility we may never see him again."

"Oh, don't say so, uncle!" (She had learned to call him uncle.) "What would
we do without him? Do send some one else, and let him stay!"

The uncle thought he saw the evidence of a deep affection in her evident
distress, and, as this was his object, he replied:

"Oh, I had only thought of sending him to the West Indies; but if you
insist so hard, I suppose I sh