nd
drop gently upon the shoulder of the girl beside her. "With Faith to
guide?" she asked; then, looking at the other sister, "And Hope to
cheer?" Then, more seriously, "It is a good thought, but one that has
only come to me lately."

A rattle of boyish feet, and Dwight was among them.

"Most there, aren't we?" he cried with boyish eagerness. Then, growing
sober, "But what's the reason nice things always have a bad side, too?
It's just horrid to have to leave you all! Why, I felt like crying
even to say good-by to Quint, Huri, and Tegeloo."

"But you're not to start the good-byes up here yet," put in Carnegie,
hurriedly. "We shall not really separate for a day or two, and there's
no use in prolonging the agony."

He spoke with feeling, and a glance passed between the elders.

A moment later, as the young people strolled onwards together, at the
call of Bess, to watch the state barge of some native prince as it
sailed slowly by, its dusky crew shouting greetings. Lady Moreham,
looking after them, said, slowly,

"How lovely youth is when it is lovely!"

"True, my lady, and there we see it at its best. Those girls are
charming, and it need surprise no one if these fine young fellows seek
them out, and hate to be separated. Carnegie seems of fine grain, and
little Miss Faith is as modest as a violet. She is your favorite, I
imagine?"

"Oh, I would not say that! I find myself very much attracted to both,
but there is something about Faith--a sympathy and tenderness,
perhaps,--that is soothing when one's heart is sore. Hope is
wonderfully entertaining, and brightens you up, but Faith seems to
understand without telling, and somehow makes you feel happier--more at
peace with yourself. I wish they were both my own!"

He let his mild gaze rest upon her.

"Lady Moreham, I am not an inquisitive man, but several times I have
been on the point of asking you a question." He could see that she
shrank, but continued obliviously, "Have you any kinsman by the name of
Duncan Glendower Moreham, from Kent, England?"

She turned with a gasp, white to the lips.

"Why?" she whispered with an effort, "Why?"

"Because," he returned, not looking at her, "I traveled and hunted with
him one whole season, two years ago. I sometimes exchange letters with
him, and have his address now. He seemed to me a restless, wretched
man, trying to drown some mental suffering in physical activity. He
gave no title with his name, a