ncluded, "but if you should be neglected and unhappy?"

"I shall not be, Will; you have provided against the former contingency
most generously, and the latter I can regulate myself. I will not be
unhappy, for I know that you are doing right and that you will return to
me the moment that you are at liberty to do so."

"Indeed I shall," he answered, as he gathered her close to his breast and
rained passionate kisses upon her lovely face.

But his heart was very heavy notwithstanding her apparent cheerfulness.

A superstitious dread seemed to have seized him, warning him that some
fearful calamity would follow this separation. He was not given to such
unreasonable imaginings, and he reproached himself for indulging in them;
but he could not shake them off nevertheless.

Morning came and with it the hour of departure and the last farewells.

Virgie wore a brave and even smiling face through all. She had resolved
that she would not unman him at the last moment.

She watched at her window until he drove away, waving her handkerchief and
throwing him a kiss as he passed from sight, then the pent-up grief of her
heart found vent in a wild burst of tears such as she had not shed since
the hour of her father's death.

But she would not indulge it long.

She had every comfort. Her rooms were cheerful and elegant; a motherly,
middle-aged woman had been engaged to remain with her as companion and
nurse during her husband's absence; she had an abundance of money at her
command, and Dr. Knox had promised to look in upon her every day. Surely
she had nothing to complain of, save the enforced separation from her dear
one, and that would not be for long, she trusted.

The ninth day after the departure of Sir William there came a cablegram,
telling of his safe arrival at Liverpool, and this, at his request, she
immediately responded to, telling him that all was well with her.

The next steamer, she knew, would bring her a letter and after that she
would hear from him every few days.

Sir William found his mother alive, but in a very low state; "she might
rally, she might not," they told him; and, with a sigh of resignation, he
could only wait and try to patiently adapt himself to circumstances.

Thus four weeks went by, and then, early one June morning, a message went
flying through the depths of the ocean, telling that a tiny little maiden,
with eyes and hair like her father's, but bidding fair to become the
counterpart of