es agitated me, relieving them by appeals to Him who alone is wise
and strong.

Next day brought me a goodnatured gossiping letter from dear Milly,
written in compulsory French, which was, in some places, very difficult
to interpret. She gave me a very pleasant account of the place, and her
opinion of the girls who were inmates, and mentioned some of the nuns with
high commendation. The language plainly cramped poor Milly's genius; but
although there was by no means so much fun as an honest English letter
would have brought me, there could be no mistake about her liking the
place, and she expressed her honest longing to see me in the most
affectionate terms.

This letter came enclosed in one to my uncle, from the proper authority
in the convent; and as there was neither address within, nor post-mark
without, I was as much in the dark as ever as to poor Milly's whereabouts.

Pencilled across the envelope of this letter, in my uncle's hand, were the
words, 'Let me have your answer when sealed, and I will transmit it.--S.R.'

When, accordingly, some days later, I did place my letter to Milly in my
uncle's hands, he told me the reason of his reserves on the subject.

'I thought it best, dear Maud, not to plague you with a secret, and Milly's
present address is one. It will in a few weeks become the rallying-point of
our diverse routes, when you shall meet her, and I join you both. Nobody,
until the storm shall have blown over, must know where I am to be found,
except my lawyer; and I think you would prefer ignorance to the trouble of
keeping a secret on which so much may depend.'

This being reasonable, and even considerate, I acquiesced.

In that interval there reached me such a charming, gay, and affectionate
letter--a very _long_ letter, too--though the writer was scarcely seven
miles away, from dear Cousin Monica, full of pleasant gossip, and
rose-coloured and golden castles in the air, and the kindest interest in
poor Milly, and the warmest affection for me.

One other incident varied that interval, if possible more pleasantly than
those. It was the announcement, in a Liverpool paper, of the departure of
the _Seamew_, bound for Melbourne; and among the passengers were reported
'Dudley Ruthyn, Esquire, of Bartram-H., and Mrs. D. Ruthyn.'

And now I began to breathe freely, I plainly saw the end of my probation
approaching: a short excursion to France, a happy meeting with Milly, and
then a delightful residence w