ever turn out anything of a man--it
will be a good deal--your doing!"

Cynthia stared at him with her beautiful grave eyes.

"Mine?" she cried in amazement. "Oh, why? What have I done?"

"You've been yourself!" said Miles gruffly. "Good-bye!"

He held out his big hand, and Cynthia's little fingers closed tightly
round it.

"Good-bye, Miles! I won't forget," she said simply. And with those
words ringing in his ears Miles Trevor sailed away to begin his new
life.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

THE GENERAL'S WOOING.

Tears and lamentations made up the story of the next few days.

"When's the washing coming home? I've cried out all my handkerchiefs,
and I get scolded if I sniff!" grumbled red-eyed Jill on the evening of
the third day after Miles' departure; and it appeared that most members
of the family found themselves in the same predicament, for the first
break in the family circle is a painful experience, especially when its
members are as devoted as were the Trevors.

It was a relief to all to watch the progress of the General's wooing,
and to have his genial presence among them. Now that the evenings were
beginning to be really summer-like, he and Miss Beveridge would adjourn
to the Square Gardens after dinner, and sit on a bench not far removed
from that historic spot where he had fallen a victim to the twins' love
of adventure. As a rule, so soon as dusk approached, Miss Beveridge
would take an omnibus and return to her "Home," while the General would
step stiffly into a cab and return to his flat, where the faithful
Johnson was no doubt wondering what had happened to induce such young
habits in his once stay-at-home master. One night, however, instead of
separating as usual, they returned to Number 1, and the first glance at
their faces showed that the _denouement_ had been reached. The General
was red, Miss Beveridge was white; he was voluble with excitement, she
was too excited to speak. Mrs Trevor read the signs of the times, and
thoughtfully led the way to the drawing-room, so that the formal
announcement of the engagement could be made away from the somewhat
embarrassing scrutiny of the young people.

"Alice has promised to let me take care of her! Congratulate me, my
dear madam. I am the happiest man in the world!" cried the excited
Irishman. "We have wasted enough time, but we are not going to waste
any more. `Haste to the wedding!'--that's our motto. What? Alice
talks about clothe