aphy, are deeply pious, and devote the greater
part of their waking hours to muttering a supplicatory formula of six
syllables, so far translatable by Christians only to the extent of its
meaning something about the Deity and the lotus.

[Illustration: ROCK STATUE OF BUDH, LADAKH.]

The trip from New York to Jummoo is about as long in point of time as to
California twenty-five years ago. As many years hence the survivors of
us may be getting up Thanksgiving or Christmas reunions at the old
homestead of the Aryan family. It will never be a hackneyed spot. It
stands too much on end. Steep mountains are never hackneyed: Cook's
Personally Conducted will never permeate Kashmir.

EDWARD C. BRUCE.

"FOR PERCIVAL."

CHAPTER XXXIX.

SHORT RECKONINGS MAKE LONG FRIENDS.

It was the first of March, and a wild wind was hurrying fragments of
white cloud across the blue. Percival had taken his breakfast in
snatches, performing on his bell meanwhile. Emma had not brought his
boots, and would not so much as come to be told that he wanted them. At
last, despairing, he went out on the landing and shouted his request to
her as she shuffled on some errand below. Turning to go back, he met
Miss Lisle, who had just come down the stairs behind him.

[Illustration]

They stood for a moment exchanging trivial remarks. To them came a
stout, fresh-colored, peculiarly innocent-looking old man, who went by
with a beaming smile and a slight bow.

"That's Mr. Fordham," said Judith: "I don't think I ever saw him so
close before."

"No: one hardly meets him from one week's end to another. He is
unusually late this morning."

"He _looks_ a very quiet, steady--Really, one might take him for rather
a nice old man."

Percival stared blankly at her, and then began to laugh: "Well, Miss
Lisle, I never heard a reputation blighted so completely by a
complimentary sentence before."

Judith blushed a little: "But he isn't very nice, is he?"

"I don't know about _nice_. I should say he was as steady and harmless
an old fellow as ever lived. What _do_ you mean?"

"Well," Judith hesitated, "of course one has no business to judge any
one without really knowing; but his staying out so late at night--"

"'So late at night?'" Percival repeated.

"I suppose he has a latch-key generally. But one or two nights I am sure
Miss Bryant sat up to let him in. I heard them whispering: at least, I
heard her. I don't think that girl could even w