eir sweet notes to nature's
harmony--this beautiful picture was one remembered by the children all
their lives. To-morrow's parting hung its shadow over them, and softened
their hearts to the true beauty everywhere expressed.

The sun had set when they reached the Vyverberg for the last time.

"Mamma," said Eric, regretfully, "I almost wish I was going home with you
all."

"Uncle Charlie may come to-night," said his mother, cheerfully. "At any
rate, he will soon come. You would then wish you had staid."

"Yes, I know," said Eric. "But it is very hard to let you all go home
without me, for all that."

Very careful directions were given to Eric, and he was placed under the
care of the landlord until he should hear from his uncle.

The evening was very short to Eric, who lingered by his mother, and could
not bear to leave her side, knowing he should see her no more for a long,
long year.

Long after Nettie and Allan had left them, he staid with his parents,
listening to their last kind advice, and sending little loving messages to
his cousins and schoolmates.

In the morning he saw them off with a heavy heart. His father's last kind
words, Allan's affectionate greeting, Nettie's tears, and his promise to
his mother that he would remember his prayers and daily chapter in the
Bible, and would try to make his travels a useful, profitable study, and
to keep himself truthful, honest, and kind, were mixed up with a hearty,
homesick longing to go after them. His eyes filled with tears as the
stretch of water between him and his dear ones rapidly widened; he turned
from the wharf with a sorrowful face, slowly and sadly retracing his steps
to the hotel.

"How dismal it will be! how lonely and dismal without them!" He thought
and murmured sorrowfully,--

"Alone, alone, all, all alone!"

CHAPTER VII.

UNDER THE SEA.

Eric had been but a few minutes in the parlor at the hotel, and was trying
to amuse himself with little Froll, when there came a tap upon the door,
and the servant entered with a card.

Eric read the name,

EMIL LACELLE,

and written underneath,

_No. 365 Vyverberg House._

"Who in the world," thought Eric, "is Emil Lacelle? and what did he send
this to me for?"

The waiter explained that the gentleman was waiting, in his room, up
stairs; and Eric, with Froll on his shoulder, started for No. 365.

The door stood ope