there is very
little of it; but I mean to introduce a few improvements by
degrees. I like the appearance of the woman of the house. She is a
widow, and is evidently very respectable. Her daughter, a very tidy
sort of person, waits on the lodgers.

'I think I have told you about all now. Blake has thawed lately,
and we have long talks together, though perhaps they are not
cheerful ones. On the whole, I think he shows a great deal of
pluck. I doubt whether any other young man of his age would behave
as well. If the Victoria Cross were ever given for moral heroism, I
am sure Blake would get it.

'Good-bye until we meet. I suppose I shall be back in another week
or ten days. Take care of yourself, my dear, for the sake of your
affectionate friend and cousin,

'MICHAEL.'

'There is no one like Michael!' was Audrey's inward comment as she put
down the letter.

How simply he had told her his intentions with regard to Kester! as
though his generosity were a matter of course. How few men of Michael's
age would have cared to saddle themselves with such a responsibility!
for one, too, who was not their own kith and kin.

'It will cost him at least two hundred a year,' she thought; 'no wonder
my poor Cyril found it difficult to accept such an offer. He would take
nothing from Michael for himself, but he could hardly refuse for Kester.
Michael has virtually adopted him, just as I should like to adopt
Mollie. I suppose he thinks he will have no son of his own, and there
is all that money----'

And she sighed a little as she thought of Michael's loneliness.

But if she had only known it, Michael's real generosity was shown in
those lines he had written at the end of his letter. His munificence to
Kester cost him far less than those few words which he wrote so
ungrudgingly of his rival; but he knew how they would gladden her heart.
The old beautiful smile would come to her lips, he thought, as she read
them.

'They will please her more than all the rest of the letter,' he said to
himself.

Two or three evenings after this letter had reached her, Audrey went
into her father's study, as usual, to bid him good-night; but when he
had kissed her with that special tenderness which he had shown to her
ever since her trouble, she looked at him very seriously.

'Father,' she said, as he kept his arm still round her, 'I