ture to another sofa. 'I say, Ave, do just give me the map--the
one in Bradshaw will do. I want to find this place.'

'I don't think there is a Bradshaw,' said Averil, reluctantly.

'Oh yes, there is--behind the candlestick, on the study chimney-piece.'

'Very well--' There were more tears to be gulped down--and perhaps they
kept her from finding the book.

'Where's the Bradshaw?'

'I didn't see it.'

'I tell you I know it was there. The left-hand candlestick, close to
the letter-weight. I'll get it myself.'

He was heaving himself up, when Averil prevented him by hastening to a
more real search, which speedily produced the book.

Eagerly Leonard unfolded the map, making her steady it for his shaking
hand, and tracing the black toothed lines.

'There's Bridport--ten miles from there. Can you see the name, Ave?'

'No, it is not marked.'

'Never mind. I see where it is; and I can see it is a capital place;
just in that little jag, with famous bathing. I wonder if they will
stay long enough for me to learn to swim?'

'You are a good way from that as yet,' said poor Averil, her heart
sinking lower and lower.

'Oh, I shall be well at once when I get away from here!'

'I hope so.'

'Why, Ave!' he cried, now first struck with her tone, 'don't you know I
shall?'

'I don't know,' she said, from the soreness of her heart; 'but I can't
tell how to trust you with strangers.'

'Strangers! You ungrateful child!' exclaimed Leonard, indignantly.
'Why, what have they been doing for you all this time?'

'I am sure Miss May, at least, never came near us till to-day.'

'I'm very glad of it! I'm sick of everything and everybody I have
seen!'

Everybody! That was the climax! Averil just held her tongue; but she
rushed to her own room, and wept bitterly and angrily. Sick of her
after all her devotion! Leonard, the being she loved best in the world!

And Leonard, distressed and hurt at the reception of his natural
expression of the weariness of seven weeks' sickness and sorrow, felt
above all the want of his mother's ever-ready sympathy and soothing,
and as if the whole world, here, there, and everywhere, would be an
equally dreary waste. His moment of bright anticipation passed into
heavy despondency, and turning his head from the light, he dropped
asleep with a tear on his cheek.

When he awoke it was at the sound of movements in the room, slow and
cautious, out of regard to his slumbers--and voices,