One of the 28th | Page 9

your description, a very cheerful one, and I

would a deal rather stop at home with you."
"We can't always do exactly as we like, Ralph; though that is a lesson
you have as yet to learn. What day did you say your holidays began?"
"Next Monday week, mother. But I do hope I may have two or three
days' sailing with Joe Knight the fisherman before I go."
"Mr. Penfold says he will be glad to see you as soon as your holidays
begin, Ralph; still I suppose a day or two will make no difference, so
we will settle that you shall go on Friday. As you go down to school
this afternoon you had better tell Rogerson the tailor to come up this
evening to measure you for a suit of clothes. You must look decent
when you go down; and you know except your Sunday suit, you have
got nothing fit to wear in such a house as that."
"I am afraid it's going to be a horrible nuisance altogether," Ralph said
ruefully. "However, I suppose it's got to be done as you say so, mother;
though it's hard breaking in on my holidays like that. He might just as
well have asked me in school-time. One could have put up with it ever
so much better if it took one out of old Harper's clutches for a bit. How
long am I to stay there?"
"I expect the greater part of your holidays, Ralph. I think he wants to
get to know all about you."
Ralph groaned loudly. "He may intend very kindly," he said; "but I
wish he would keep his good intentions to himself."
"You think so now," Mrs. Conway said with a smile. "You won't think
so when you are in the army, but will find a little extra allowance or a
tip now and then very welcome."
"I dare say I shall, mother," Ralph said, brightening. "Anyhow, if the
old gentleman--that is to say, the gentleman--takes it into his head to
make me an allowance, it will take me off your hands, and I shall not
be always feeling that I am an awful expense to you. All right, mother.
I think I can promise that I will be on my best behavior, and will try

hard to get on even with his sisters. I wish he had asked Phil Landrey to
go down with me. Two fellows can get on anywhere."
"I should have very little hope of your making a good impression if you
went there with your friend Phil," Mrs. Conway said, smiling. "I can
believe in your good conduct while you are alone, but I should have no
hopes whatever of you if you and he were together."
"But how am I to go, mother? It seems such a tremendous way from
here down into Dorsetshire."
"I have not thought anything about it yet, Ralph; but probably Mr.
Penfold will give some instructions as to your journey when he hears
from me that you are coming."
CHAPTER II.
A COUNTRY VISIT.
When Ralph had gone off to school again Mrs. Conway sat down to
answer the letter--by no means an easy task--and she sat with the paper
before her for a long time before she began. At last, with an air of
desperation, she dipped her pen into the ink and began:
"MY DEAR HERBERT PENFOLD: It is difficult to answer such a
letter as yours--to say all one feels without saying too much; to express
the gratitude with which one is full, but of which one feels that you do
not desire the expression. First, a word as to the past. Now that it is
irreparable, why should I not speak freely? We were the victims of a
mistake! You were misled respecting me. I foolishly resented the line
you took, failed to make sufficient allowances for your surroundings,
and even doubted a love that seemed to me to be so easily shaken. Thus
my pride was, perhaps, as much responsible for what happened as your
too easy credence of tales to my disadvantage. At any rate, believe me
that I have cherished no such feelings as those with which you credit
me toward you. Now that I know the truth, I can only regret that your
life has been, as you say, spoiled, by what can but be called a fatal
misunderstanding.

"Next, I must thank you, although you make no allusion to it in your
letter, for your kindness during past years. Of these, believe me, I never
suspected that you were the author; and I need hardly say how deeply I
have been touched at finding that the hand to which I and my boy owe
so much is that of Herbert Penfold. Of this I