hat you have parted with good old Mr Crossley in anger--"

"We didn't part in anger," interrupted Shank. "We were only a little
less sweet on each other than usual. There was no absolute quarrel.
D'you think he'd have promised to pray for me if there was?"

"Have you spoken yet to your father?" asked the lady.

"How could I? I've not seen him since the thing was settled. Besides,
what's the use? _He_ can do nothing for me, an' don't care a button
what I do or where I go."

"You are wrong, Shank, in thinking so. I _know_ that he cares for you
very much indeed. If he can do nothing for you _now_, he has at least
given you your education, without which you could not do much for
yourself."

"Well, of course I shall tell him whenever I see him," returned the
youth, somewhat softened; "and I'm aware he has a sort of sneaking
fondness for me; but I'm not going to ask his advice, because he knows
nothing about the business. Besides, mother, I am old enough to judge
for myself, and mean to take the advice of nobody."

"You are indeed old enough to judge for yourself," said Mrs Leather,
resuming her knitting, "and I don't wish to turn you from your plans.
On the contrary, I will pray that God's blessing and protection may
accompany you wherever you go, but you should not expect me to be
instantaneously jubilant over an arrangement which will take you away
from me, for years perhaps."

This last consideration seemed to have some weight with the selfish
youth.

"Well, well, mother," he said, rising, "don't take on about that.
Travelling is not like what it used to be. A trip over the Atlantic and
the Rocky Mountains is nothing to speak of now--a mere matter of a few
weeks--so that a fellow can take a run home at any time to say `How do'
to his people. I'm going down now to see Smithers and tell him the
news."

"Stay, I'll go with you--a bit of the way," cried May, jumping up and
shaking back the curly brown hair which still hung in native freedom--
and girlish fashion--on her shoulders.

May had a charming and rare capacity for getting ready to go out at a
moment's notice. She merely threw on a coquettish straw hat, which had
a knack of being always at hand, and which clung to her pretty head with
a tenacity that rendered strings or elastic superfluous. One of her
brother's companions--we don't know which--was once heard to say with
fervour that no hat would be worth its ribbons that didn't cling
powerfully