ntent."

Raymond answered by holding out his father's letter. Mr. Smith read it
silently. He made no remark when he had finished it, but handed it back
to the boy.

"And now, sir, what are we to do?"

"Get well and strong, my dear boy, in the first place."

"But about the shop, sir? My father said the place was ready, and I
could take it."

"You are not fit for it at present."

"At present!" Then Mr. Smith thought he ought to go when he was well!
The thought was very bitter, and Raymond bent his head in his hands, and
tears came dropping one by one through his fingers. They came from his
extreme weakness, and he was very much ashamed of them, so much ashamed
that he did not look up until he had banished them. Then Mr. Smith
spoke:--

"Little Madge, do you think Raymond is well enough to have a change?"

"There is no place for him to go to, sir," she answered, while there was
a quick throb of pain in her heart at the thought of being separated
from him.

"I have a country-house in the Isle of Wight. Will you both come and pay
me a visit there, and see my little daughter Lilian?"

Madge's face lit up instantly. "Raymond, do you hear? The country--the
country--and the beautiful sea--and you will get strong there!"

"But I don't know how we could do it, sir?" said Raymond doubtfully, but
in a tone of gladness which showed how much he liked the proposition.

"You must let me be your father for the time, and I will see to it all,"
replied Mr. Smith kindly. "Mrs. Nurse, don't you think it would be the
best thing possible for your patient?"

"Oh, yes," she answered gladly.

"Then you must be ready by the end of next week," said Mr. Smith; "and
consider that it is a settled thing. Lilian will be in such delight."

[Illustration]

CHAPTER VI.

THE SURPRISE.

Seapoint was beautifully situated on a headland, which commanded a view
of the boundless sea on one side, and on the other a panoramic view of
the fertile Isle of Wight. And this was the summer home of the artist's
little daughter. Her governess, Miss Mortimer, had charge of her, but
her father came backwards and forwards to see her constantly; for Lilian
was all that was now left to him in this world to love except his art,
and the days when he came were the brightest of his little girl's life.
She knew that he would take her long on rambling walks, and let her clamber
about amongst the rocks and little bays and creeks in which she
delighted;