e and his agents have written to
every consul and business house in Central America, and I don't believe
there is a city that he hasn't visited. He has sent him money and
letters to every bank and to every post-office--"

The girl raised her head quickly.

"--but he never calls for either," Mrs. Collier continued, "for I know
that if he had read my letters he would have come home."

The girl lifted her head as though she were about to speak, and then
turned and walked slowly away. After a few moments she returned, and
stood, with her hands resting on the rail, looking down into the water.
"I wrote him two letters," she said. In the silence of the night her
voice was unusually clear and distinct. "I--you make me wonder--if they
ever reached him."

Mrs. Collier, with her eyes fixed upon the girl, rose slowly from her
chair and came towards her. She reached out her hand and touched Miss
Cameron on the arm.

"Florence," she said, in a whisper, "have you--"

The girl raised her head slowly, and lowered it again. "Yes," she
answered; "I told him to come back--to come back to me. Alice," she
cried, "I--I begged him to come back!" She tossed her hands apart and
again walked rapidly away, leaving the older woman standing motionless.

A moment later, when Sir Charles and Mr. Collier stepped out upon the
deck, they discovered the two women standing close together, two white,
ghostly figures in the moonlight, and as they advanced towards them they
saw Mrs. Collier take the girl for an instant in her arms.

Sir Charles was asking Miss Cameron how long she thought an immigrant
should be made to work for his freehold allotment, when Mr. Collier and
his wife rose at the same moment and departed on separate errands. They
met most mysteriously in the shadow of the wheel-house.

"What is it? Is anything wrong with Florence?" Collier asked, anxiously.
"Not homesick, is she?"

Mrs. Collier put her hands on her husband's shoulders and shook her
head.

"Wrong? No, thank Heaven! it's as right as right can be!" she cried.
"She's written to him to come back, but he's never answered, and so--and
now it's all right."

Mr. Collier gazed blankly at his wife's upturned face. "Well, I don't
see that," he remonstrated. "What's the use of her being in love with
him now when he can't be found? What? Why didn't she love him two years
ago when he was where you could get at him--at her house, for instance.
He was there most of his time. She w