a most cordial one. The Consul gave a grand
dinner, at which he drank his brother's health, adding at the same time
the hope that he might find himself happy in his old home.

There is nothing so irritating as a half-fulfilled scandal, and when
Richard Garman a short time afterwards calmly received the post of
lighthouse-keeper at Bratvold, and lived there year after year without a
sign of doing anything worthy of remark, each one in the little town
felt himself personally affronted, and it was a source of wonder to all
how little the Garmans seemed to realize what they owed to society.

As far as that went, Richard himself was not perfectly clear how it had
all come about; there was something about Christian Frederick he could
not understand. Whenever he met his brother, or even got a letter from
him, his whole nature seemed to change; things he would otherwise never
have thought of attempting appeared all at once quite easy, and he did
feats which afterwards caused him the greatest astonishment. When, in a
state of doubt and uncertainty, he wrote home for the last time, to beg
his brother to take charge of little Madeleine, his only thought was to
make an end of his wasted life, the sooner the better, directly his
daughter was placed in safety. But just then he happened to get a
remittance enclosed in an extraordinary letter, in which occurred
several puzzling business terms. There was something about
"liquidation," and closing up an account which required his presence,
and in the middle of it all there were certain expressions which seemed
to have stumbled accidentally into the commercial style. For instance,
in one place there was "brother of my boyhood;" and further on, "with
sincere wishes for brotherly companionship;" and finally, he read, in
the middle of a long involved sentence, "Dear Richard, don't lose
heart." This stirred Richard Garman into action: he made an effort, and
set off home. When he saw his brother come on board the steamer the
tears came to his eyes, and he was on the point of opening his arms to
embrace him. The Consul, however, held out his hand, and said quietly,
"Welcome, Richard! Where are your things?"

Since then nothing had been said about the letter; once only had Richard
Garman ventured to allude to it, when the Consul seemed to imagine that
he wished to settle up the accounts that were therein mentioned. Nothing
could have been further from the _attache's_ thoughts, and he felt that