an announcement with a reference to Mr. Bates,
would have been conscious and awkward. But
Mr. Bates was a soldier and unmoved. Fermor,
however, gave preference to the regular mail.

One from Lady Laura. One from his army
agent. Several from tailors, perfumers, besides
circulars, and a large envelope directed in
Sir Hopkins's well-known official hand.
Nervously, though he expected nothing from it,
Fermor drew his chair in and began to read.
It was very closely written, and with a heart
which beat quicker and quicker with every
line, he read it through. Towards the end, he rose
and took a short hurried march backward and
forward, then read on; when he had finished,
there was a strange look in his eyes.

He rang the bell. "Go for Major Carter at
once," he said to Mr. Bates; "do not lose a
moment."

He did not open Lady Laura's epistle, though
it contained news that young Piper had, the
night before, offered himself to Alicia Mary at
Blickmore's Hotel; nor the mixed crowd of
tailors' and other tradesmen's. He read his
relative's letter over again.

The major came. He had had a letter too
from the same writer, but he did not mention
it. Another time he would have been all amazement,
delight, and surprise. Now he took the
letter, gravely, which Fermor put into his
hand.

"Read it out," said Fermor.

He dropped into a chair, and the major, leaning
his face over the lamp, read out the letter:

"Sunday Evening.

"My dear Charles,—I am starting,
surrounded by boxes and packages, but must find
a moment to write to you on a very important
matter.

"I have just heard of the death of old Colin
Mackenzie, who has been treasurer of my
government for the last forty years. The place is
in my gift, and must be worth at the very least
fifteen hundred a year. As my first bit of
patronage, I offer it to you.

"You must think of this seriously, and decide
at once. The little office I spoke of before was
not, I admit, sufficient to tempt a man of parts
to change his life; but this is a different question.
The position is very delicate, considering
the way you are situated. You will do me the
justice to say that I never, by persuasion or advice,
have attempted to interfere with your plans of
life; but, on this occasion, I must speak plainly.
This is a really great opening; it may lead to all
sorts of things; and, if I were in your place, I
would not hesitate a second; but it is for you
to decide.

"As for that family for whom you seem to
have a sort of infatuation, you know my
opinion. If I had time, I could tell you some little
matters I have picked up here. As for the child
herself, I would pity her, if I did not think she
was a little too clever. My dear boy, these
things occur every day. Young St. Rouser—Lord
Nimmo's eldest—behaved badly, as it is called,
to Vansittart's daughter, and there were tears
and broken hearts; but in a week she had
accepted old Bob Major of the Blues. She had
been protecting herself all the while.

"Or again, why be in a hurry? If you cannot
live without this soft innocent, why not put it
off a year or so, until you look about you? The
thing is common enough. She can do, I suppose,
as other young ladies have done before,
and her people have no right to be taking extra
airs on themselves. My dear Charles, you are
a man of sense, and I have no right to tell
you to do this, or do that;but you must decide
at once, as the post is for some one else, and the
appointment must be made before I go out. I
shall wait one day—twelve hours—at Paris, for
your answer by telegraph. Direct to the Hôtel
Mirabeau.                     "Yours truly,

"HOPKINS POCOCK.

"P.S. The packet leaves Marseilles on Friday
at noon. If you accept, you would have almost
time to sail with me. Tuesday, London
(arrange with War-office—sell your commission.
You will find a note at my rooms for Sir
Charles, one of my oldest friends); Wednesday,
Paris; Thursday, Marseilles. You will
find me at the Empereur."

Major Carter lifted his face from the lamp.
There was a pause for a moment; then he said,
"A kind, sensible letter. A judicious letter."

"But," said Fermor, "assuming that, what
am I to do?"

"I should say you had no choice. It is all
decided for you here," said the major, tapping
the letter. "Good gracious, Fermor!" he
continued, suddenly becoming warm, "what are
you about? Are you going to let this chivalrous
sort of indulgence for a set of adventurers—
forgive me—who have treated you infamously
—yes, infamously—wreck your whole life? I
can't stand by and see it; I can not. Your
friends must interfere, even at the risk of
offending you."

"Yes, yes," said Fermor, hastily, "you are
right. They have no title to expect anything
from me."

"It is splendid, a magnificent opening," said
the major; "what I always prophesied."

"Yes," said Fermor, absently, "they deserve
nothing from me, nothing. The only thing is
that poor girl."

"Poor girl!" said Carter, with a meaning look
that conveyed volumes; "no matter. Besides,
what does Sir Hopkins say? Could anything
be more delicate, considerate. Is there any
hurry?"

"To be sure. No—certainly," said Fermor,
hastily.

"I tell you what," said Carter, slowly, "you
should go without delay. This very night. The
express passes at midnight."

Fermor started a little guiltily. Perhaps some
such notion had been in his thoughts.

"Yes," said the other, quickly, "the best,
the kindest, and most charitable course. I
know what your own generous instincts would