he space the initials,
D. R., were decided upon. Still it was annoying to M. Bajeau, and
consequently rather embarrassing to Donald, that the woman did not
promptly recognize him as the same jeweller.

The simple-hearted and somewhat vain old gentleman, who felt that this
would be a very important link in the chain of evidence, had recognized
Madame Rene; and why could she not return the compliment?

Donald, by way of relieving the awkwardness, remarked during a rather
stiff moment that it was unusually warm, and begged leave to open the
door. At this, Monsieur, hinting delicately that a draught would in time
kill an angel, produced a skull-cap, which he deftly placed upon his
head; and no sooner was this change effected than Madame Rene grew
radiant, clasped her hands in honest rapture, and declared that she
would now recognize M. Bajeau among a million as the very gentleman who
engraved that blessed baby's dear little initials upon the clasp!

CHAPTER XXXV.

A DAY OF JOY.

WHILE the great ship that bears Donald and Madame Rene to America is
plowing its way across the ocean, we who are on dry land may look into
the home at Lakewood.

Uncle George and the two girls have just come in from a twilight walk;
the glow of exercise is on their faces, and they are merry, not because
anything funny has been seen or said, but because their hearts are full
of joy. Donald is coming home.

Down stairs in the housekeeper's pleasant sitting-room are a pair of old
friends, and if you could open the door without being seen you would
hear two familiar voices.

"Where's the use," Mr. Jack is saying confidentially, "in Master
Donald's bein' away so long? The place ain't natteral,--nothing's
natteral without that boy. And there's Miss Dorothy, the trimmest little
craft that ever was; here she's been tossin' about and draggin' anchor,
so to speak, all because he ain't here alongside. He's gone to find out
for certain, is he? Where's the use in findin' out? One clipper's as
good as another if both are sound in the hull and full-rigged. To my
mind the capt'n'd better took what the Lord's giv' him, and be thankful
accordin'. You can't change the bottom o' the sea by continyully takin'
soundin's. I tell you, messmate--"

He stops short as Lydia raises a warning finger,--

"You're forgetting again, Mr. Jack!" she pleads, "and after all the
grammar me and Miss Dorry have taught you. Besides, you might be just as
elegant in tal