esigns post. Engage
substitute." _That's_ the way to do it.'

Elsie clasped her small white hands in the despair of the woman who
considers herself indispensable--as if we were any of us indispensable!
'But, dearest, the girls! They'll be _so_ disappointed!'

'They'll get over it,' I answered, grimly. 'There are worse
disappointments in store for them in life-- Which is a fine old crusted
platitude worthy of Aunt Susan. Anyhow, I've decided. Look here, Elsie:
I stand to you _in loco parentis_.' I have already remarked, I think,
that she was three years my senior; but I was so pleased with this
phrase that I repeated it lovingly. 'I stand to you, dear, _in loco
parentis_. Now, I can't let you endanger your precious health by
returning to town and Miss Latimer this winter. Let us be categorical. I
go to Florence; you go with me.'

'What shall we live upon?' Elsie suggested, piteously.

'Our fellow-creatures, as usual,' I answered, with prompt callousness.
'I object to these base utilitarian considerations being imported into
the discussion of a serious question. Florence is the city of art; as a
woman of culture, it behoves you to revel in it. Your medical attendant
sends you there; as a patient and an invalid, you can revel with a clear
conscience. Money? Well, money is a secondary matter. All philosophies
and all religions agree that money is mere dross, filthy lucre. Rise
superior to it. We have a fair sum in hand to the credit of the firm; we
can pick up some more, I suppose, in Florence.'

'How?'

I reflected. 'Elsie,' I said, 'you are deficient in Faith--which is one
of the leading Christian graces. My mission in life is to correct that
want in your spiritual nature. Now, observe how beautifully all these
events work in together! The winter comes, when no man can bicycle,
especially in Switzerland. Therefore, what is the use of my stopping on
here after October? Again, in pursuance of my general plan of going
round the world, I must get forward to Italy. Your medical attendant
considerately orders you at the same time to Florence. In Florence we
shall still have chances of selling Manitous, though possibly, I admit,
in diminished numbers. I confess at once that people come to Switzerland
to tour, and are therefore liable to need our machines; while they go to
Florence to look at pictures, and a bicycle would doubtless prove
inconvenient in the Uffizi or the Pitti. Still, we _may_ sell a few. But
I descry anot