s Home, and he did not lie down till he
had seen the light extinguished in the embowered window of Violet's
room. Next morning he got up betimes, and after dressing himself with
the utmost pain and difficulty, for he did not like to ask for the
assistance which he always had at home since his illness, he went down
to breakfast. Hardly touching the dainties which the hospitable old
landlady had provided, he strolled off to the wood, almost before Ildown
was a-stir, and sat down in a place, not far from the King's Oak, in a
green hollow, where he was sheltered from sight by the broad tree
trunks, and the tall and graceful ferns.

He had not long to wait, and the time so spent would have been happy if
agitation had not prevented him from enjoying the glories of the scene.
Nowhere was "the gorgeous and melancholy beauty of the sunlit autumnal
landscape more bounteously displayed." The grand old trees all round
him were burning themselves away in many-coloured flames, and the green
leaves that still lingered amid the rich hues of beautiful decay,
suggested, in their contrasting harmony with their withered brethren,
many a deep moral to the thoughtful mind: and everything that the
thoughts could shape received a deeper emphasis from the unbroken
silence of the wood.

The occupation of his mind made the time pass quickly, and it seemed but
a few minutes when he saw the Homes approaching the King's Oak. The
boys laid on the greensward the materials for the picnic, and then,
while Violet and Mrs Home seated themselves on a fallen trunk and took
out their work, Julian read to them, and Cyril and Frank walked through
the wood in search of exercise and amusement.

As they passed near the spot where Kennedy was seated, they caught sight
of a squirrel's nest, and Frank was instantly on the alert to reach the
spoil. While he was scrambling with difficulty up the tall fir, Cyril
stayed at the foot, and Kennedy determined to call him. Cyril had grown
into a tall handsome boy of seventeen, and Kennedy knew that he could be
trusted to help him, for he had won the boy's affection thoroughly when
they were together in Switzerland.

"Cyril!"

The sound of a voice in that quiet place, out of earshot of his friends,
startled Cyril, and he turned hastily round.

"Who's there?"

"Edward Kennedy. Come here, Cyril, and let me speak to you; Frank does
not notice us."

"Edward--you here?" said Cyril. "Why don't you come and see mot