bs of Wimbledon and Fulham. She declared that nothing was so
agreeable. She had even said point-blank to Mr. Avenel, "Why don't you
give a Dejeune dansant?" And, therewith, a Dejeune dansant Mr. Avenel
resolved to give.

The day was fixed, and Mr. Avenel entered into all the requisite
preparations, with the energy of a man and the providence of a woman.

One morning as he stood musing on the lawn, irresolute as to the best
site for the tents, Leonard came up to him with an open letter in his
hand.

"My dear uncle," said he, softly.

"Ha!" exclaimed Mr. Avenel, with a start. "Ha-well, what now?"

"I have just received a letter from Mr. Dale. He tells me that my poor
mother is very restless and uneasy, because he cannot assure her that
he has heard from me; and his letter requires an answer. Indeed I shall
seem very ungrateful to him--to all--if I do not write."

Richard Avenel's brows met. He uttered an impatient "Pish!" and turned
away. Then coming back, he fixed his clear hawk-like eye on Leonard's
ingenuous countenance, linked his arm into his nephew's, and drew him
into the shrubbery.

"Well, Leonard," said he, after a pause, "it is time that I should give
you some idea of my plans with regard to you. You have seen my manner of
living--some difference from what you ever saw before, I calculate! Now
I have given you, what no one gave me, a lift in the world; and where I
place you, there you must help yourself."

"Such is my duty and my desire," said Leonard, heartily. "Good. You
are a clever lad, and a genteel lad, and will do me credit. I have had
doubts of what is best for you. At one time I thought of sending you to
college. That, I know; is Mr. Dale's wish; perhaps it is your own. But
I have given up that idea; I have something better for you. You have
a clear head for business, and are a capital arithmetician. I think of
bringing you up to superintend my business; by and by I will admit you
into partnership; and before you are thirty you will be a rich man.
Come, does that suit you?"

"My dear uncle," said Leonard, frankly, but much touched by this
generosity, "it is not for me to have a choice. I should have preferred
going to college, because there I might gain independence for myself and
cease to be a burden on you. Moreover, my heart moves me to studies
more congenial with the college than the counting-house. But all this is
nothing compared with my wish to be of use to you, and to prove in any
way