spot all the year round, when it can be avoided. For the
next three years you can go on very well as you are; after that--"

"I'm afraid so! I'm afraid you are right. I've thought so myself,"
said Mr Bertrand dolefully. "I can't say I look forward to the
prospect, but if it must be done, it must. I must make the most of my
three last years. And, meantime, you think the girls are all right as
they are? I need make no change?"

Miss Carr pressed her lips together without speaking, while they paced
slowly up and down the lawn. "I think," she said slowly, at last, "that
three girls are rather too many in a house like this. You have Miss
Briggs to look after Geraldine, and three servants to do the work.
There cannot be enough occupation or interest to keep three young people
content and happy. I have thought several times during the spring,
Austin, that it would be a good plan if you lent one of your daughters
to me for a year or two."

"My dear Helen! A year or two! One of my girls!"

"Yes--yes! I knew that you would work yourself up into a state of
excitement. What a boy you are, Austin! Listen quietly, and try to be
reasonable. If you send one of the girls to me, I will see that she
finishes her education under the best masters; that she makes her
entrance into society at the right time, and has friends of whom you
would approve. It would be a great advantage--"

"I know it, I feel it, and I am deeply grateful, Helen; but it can't be
done. I can't separate myself from my children."

"You manage to exist without your boys for nine months of the year; and
I would never wish to separate you. She could come home for Christmas
and a couple of months in summer, and you yourself are in town half-a-
dozen times in the course of the year. You could always stay at my
house."

"Yes, yes; it's all true; but I don't like it, Helen, and--"

"And you think only of yourself. It never occurs to you that I have not
a soul belonging to me in that big, lonely house, and that it might be a
comfort to me to have a bright young girl--"

Mr Bertrand stopped short in the middle of the lawn and stared into his
companion's face. There was an unusual flush on her cheeks, and her
eyes glistened with tears.

"Oh, my dear Helen," he cried. "I am a selfish wretch! I never thought
of that. Of course, if you put it in that light, I can say no more. My
dear old friend--I accept your offer with thanks! You have done so