now to find some occupation,
which with his abilities I have no doubt he will easily do. As usual,
the young people are in a hurry to know their fate, so it will be a
charity to them to reply as soon as convenient. Excuse the trouble I am
giving you, and, with kind regards to Mrs B. and your sister,--

"Believe me, yours faithfully,--

"Fras. Herapath."

Number 5.--Mark Railsford to William Grover, Grandcourt.

"Lucerne, _September_ 9th, 18---.

"Dear Grover,--You have often in your lighter moods laughed at the
humble individual who addresses you. Laugh once again. The fact is, I
am engaged. I can fancy I see you reeling under this blow! I have been
reeling under it for thirty-six hours.

"It's partly your fault. Coming over the Saint Gothard a week ago, I
fell in with a family party, Herapath by name; father, mother, boy and
girl. They had come part of the way by train, and were driving over the
top. The boy and I walked, and I discovered he was at Grandcourt, and
of course knew you, though he's not in your house, but Moss's. That's
how _you_ come to be mixed up in it. During the last hour or so Miss
H--- walked with us, and before we reached the Devil's Bridge my fate
was sealed.

"The ladies were in great distress about some lost luggage--lost by the
kind offices of the boy--and I went back to Como to look for it. It
lost me two days, and I never found it. However, I found the brightest
pair of blue eyes when I got back. I will draw you no portraits, you
old scoffer; but I challenge you to produce out of your own imagination
anything to match it. I don't mind confessing to you that I feel half
dazed by it all at present, and have to kick myself pretty often to make
sure it is not a dream. The father, whom I bearded yesterday, nods his
head and will say `Yes' as soon as he's looked into my credentials.
Meanwhile I am tolerated, and dread nothing except the premature turning
up of the lost luggage.

"But, to be practical for once in my life. Amongst much that is
delightfully vague and dreamy, one thing stands out very clear in my own
mind at present. I must do something. My loafing days are over. The
profession of a gentleman at large, with which you twit me, I hereby
renounce. She will back me up in any honest work--she says so. I've
confessed the way I wasted the last three years. She said she is glad
she did not know me then. Oh my, William, it is all very well for you
to scoff. I