together, and I shall go there for every term, and come down here
for the vacation. It will be just like going back to school again. I
shall adore it!"

Christopher did not like the idea at all. "Are you sure you will be
comfortable, and that they will take proper care of you?"

"Of course they will. Grace Cobham will be there at the same time--an
old schoolfellow to whom I used to be devoted at Fox How--and she and I
will chum together. I haven't seen her for ages, as she has been
scouring Europe with her family; but now she has settled down in
England, and is going in for art."

Christopher still looked doubtful. "It would make me miserable to think
that you weren't properly looked after and taken care of, Elisabeth."

"Well, I shall be. And if I'm not, I shall still have you to fall back
upon."

"But you won't have me to fall back upon; that is just the point. If you
would, I shouldn't worry about you so much; but it cuts me to the heart
to leave you among strangers. Still, the Tremaines will be here, and I
shall ask them to look after you; and I daresay they will do so all
right, though not as efficiently as I should."

Elisabeth grew rather pale; that there would ever come a day when
Christopher would not be there to fall back upon was a contingency which
until now had never occurred to her. "Whatever are you talking about,
Chris? Why sha'n't you be here when I go up to the Slade?"

"Because I am going to Australia."

"To Australia? What on earth for?" It seemed to Elisabeth as if the
earth beneath her feet had suddenly decided to reverse its customary
revolution, and to transpose its poles.

"To see if I can find George Farringdon's son, of course."

"I thought he had been advertised for in both English and Australian
papers, and had failed to answer the advertisements."

"So he has."

"Then why bother any more about him?" suggested Elisabeth.

"Because I must. If advertisement fails, I must see what personal search
will do."

Elisabeth's lip trembled; she felt that a hemisphere uninhabited by
Christopher would be a very dreary hemisphere indeed. "Oh! Chris dear,
you needn't go yourself," she coaxed; "I simply can not spare you, and
that's the long and the short of it."

Christopher hardened his heart. He had seen the quiver of Elisabeth's
lip, and it had almost proved too strong for him. "Hang it all! I must
go; there is nothing else to be done."

Elisabeth's eyes filled with tears. "Please d