rrow for a long trip to South America.
I may be away for several years without sending you any news. If I
shouldn't write, don't worry. When my fortune is made I shall return to
Havre. I hope that it will not be too long and that we shall all live
happily together....'

"This letter became the gospel of the family. It was read on the
slightest provocation, and it was shown to everybody.

"For ten years nothing was heard from Uncle Jules; but as time went on
my father's hope grew, and my mother, also, often said:

"'When that good Jules is here, our position will be different. There is
one who knew how to get along!'

"And every Sunday, while watching the big steamers approaching from
the horizon, pouring out a stream of smoke, my father would repeat his
eternal question:

"'What a surprise it would be if Jules were on that one! Eh?'

"We almost expected to see him waving his handkerchief and crying:

"'Hey! Philippe!'

"Thousands of schemes had been planned on the strength of this expected
return; we were even to buy a little house with my uncle's money--a
little place in the country near Ingouville. In fact, I wouldn't swear
that my father had not already begun negotiations.

"The elder of my sisters was then twenty-eight, the other twenty-six.
They were not yet married, and that was a great grief to every one.

"At last a suitor presented himself for the younger one. He was a clerk,
not rich, but honorable. I have always been morally certain that Uncle
Jules' letter, which was shown him one evening, had swept away the young
man's hesitation and definitely decided him.

"He was accepted eagerly, and it was decided that after the wedding the
whole family should take a trip to Jersey.

"Jersey is the ideal trip for poor people. It is not far; one crosses
a strip of sea in a steamer and lands on foreign soil, as this little
island belongs to England. Thus, a Frenchman, with a two hours' sail,
can observe a neighboring people at home and study their customs.

"This trip to Jersey completely absorbed our ideas, was our sole
anticipation, the constant thought of our minds.

"At last we left. I see it as plainly as if it had happened yesterday.
The boat was getting up steam against the quay at Granville; my father,
bewildered, was superintending the loading of our three pieces of
baggage; my mother, nervous, had taken the arm of my unmarried sister,
who seemed lost since the departure of the other one, like th