allas flattered herself.

'I see a difference,' said Miss Frere, to whom she communicated this
opinion.

'What is it?' asked the mother hastily. For she had seen it too.

'It is not just easy to put it in words; but I see it. Mrs. Dallas,
there is a wonderful _rest_ come into his face.'

'Rest?' said the other. 'Pitt was never restless, in a bad sense; there
was no keep still to him; but that is not what you mean.'

'That is not what I mean. I never in my life saw anybody look so happy.'

'Can't you do something with him?'

'He gives me no chance.'

It may seem strange that a good mother should wish to interfere with
the happiness of a good son; but neither she nor Miss Frere adverted to
that anomaly.

'I should not wonder one bit,' said Mrs. Dallas bitterly, 'if he were
to disinherit himself.'

That would be bad, Betty agreed--deplorable; however, the thought of
her own loss busied her most just now; not of what Pitt might lose. Two
days before his departure all these various feelings of the various
persons in the little family received a somewhat violent jar.

It was evening. Miss Frere and Pitt had had a ride that afternoon--a
long and very spirited one. It might be the last they would take
together, and she had enjoyed it with the keenness of that
consciousness; as a grain of salt intensifies sweetness, or as discords
throw out the value of harmony. Pitt had been bright and lively as much
as ever, the ride had been gay, and the one regret on Betty's mind as
they dismounted was that she had not more time before her to try what
she could do. Pitt, as yet at least, had not grown a bit precise or
sanctimonious; he had not talked nonsense, indeed, but then he never
had paid her the very poor compliment of doing that. All the more, she
as well as the others was startled by what came out in the evening.

All supper-time Pitt was particularly talkative and bright. Mrs.
Dallas's face took a gleam from the brightness, and even Mr. Dallas
roused up to bear his part in the conversation. When supper was done
they still sat round the table, lingering in talk. Then, after a slight
pause which had set in, Pitt leaned forward a little and spoke, looking
alternately at one and the other of his parents.

'Mother,--father,--I wish you would do one thing before I go away.'

At the change in his tone all three present had pricked up their ears,
and every eye was now upon him.

'What is that, Pitt?' his mother said anxio