closed portrait? It's my first attempt at a face--rather a pleasant
face too, eh? Oh, about the babies. The young 'un's cut a tooth. The
whole house has been agitated in consequence, and the colonel is as
proud as if he'd captured a province. So are we all. They are to go to
an orphanage, I believe, in a week or two; but not till you come back
and give your parental benediction. My guardian is going to write you
all about it. He promises military openings for both when they arrive
at the proper age; and Tim is practising already on a drum which _she_
has given him.

"She, by the way, never mentions you, which is an excellent sign, but
rather rough on me when I want to talk about you. She occasionally is
drawn out to talk about a certain Mr John at Storr Alley; but, as you
know, she only knew about him from hearsay. How's that boy who has got
hold of you down in Cumberland? Are he and I to be friends or enemies?
Tell him I'm game for either, and give him choice of weapons if the
latter. But as long as he lets me see you now and then and treats you
well, we may as well be friends. I'm flourishing and awfully in love.
Stay away as long as you can; you're not wanted here. The lady of
Clarges Street came to see me yesterday. She sent you really a kind
message; so even in that quarter you may yet look for a friend. Good-
bye--remember me to that chap. Tim sends his duty; and _she_ when I
mentioned I was writing to you and asked if there was any message, did
not hear what I said.--G.F."

There was plenty in this bright letter to give comfort to Jeffreys. He
rejoiced humbly in its affectionate tone towards himself. He treasured
the portrait. He was gratified at the unenvious references to Percy,
and he was relieved at the prospect before his babies.

The part that referred to Raby left him less room for jubilation.
Forrester evidently thought, as Percy did, that in that quarter
everything was plain sailing. They neither of them realised the gulf
between the two, and they neither of them knew of that miserable October
afternoon in Regent's Park. Forrester's jocular reference to Raby's
silence and reserve seemed to Jeffreys but a confirmation of what he
believed to be the truth.

He was to her what any other friend in distress might be, an object of
sweet pity and solicitude. But that was all. He had a bad name, and
much as she would brave for him to help him, she did not--how could
she?--love him.