hat letter years went by, and
never another one. They, thinking that he had married after all--for in
his last letter he had spoken of a young widow who had lately been
engaged to fill the post of housekeeper at his ranch--gave up all hope
when after three times writing no reply came, and finally desisted
entirely. He says, however, that it was just the other way about. That
he did write--wrote six or seven times--but could get no reply; and as
he afterwards found the housekeeper in question a designing and
deceitful person, and shipped her off about her business, he makes no
doubt that she received and destroyed Mrs. Comstock's letter to him and
burnt his to her, hoping, no doubt, to inveigle him into marrying her."

"Quite likely, if she were a designing woman," commented Cleek. "But go
on, please. What next?"

"Oh, years of hardship, during which Mr. Comstock died and his widow had
to earn their own living unaided. Young Phil got a post as bookkeeper,
Flora taught music and painting, Mrs. Comstock did needlework, and
Miriam became a governess in the family of a distant connection of my
grandfather, Sir Gilbert Morford. That's where and how I met her, Mr.
Cleek, and--Well, that's another story!" his cheeks reddening and a
flash of fire coming into his eyes. "My grandfather says he will 'chuck
me out neck and crop' if I marry her; but it does not matter--I will!"

"Yes, you will--if the cut of that chin stands for anything," commented
Cleek. "Well, to get on: the Comstocks were down in the deeps, and no
hope of hearing any more from Australia and Uncle Phil, eh? What next?"

"Why, all of a sudden he dropped in on them, bless his bully old
heart!--and then good-bye to hard times and any more struggling for them.
He'd been in England searching for them for seven months before he found
them; but when he did find them there was a time! Inside of ten hours,
the whole world was changed for them. Made the boys and the girls give
up their positions and come home to live with him and their mother,
poured money out by the handful, bought Lilac Lodge and fitted it up
like a little palace, dressed his niece and her daughters like queens,
and settled down with them to what seemed about to be a life of glorious
and luxurious ease, and in the midst of all this peace and plenty,
brightness and hope, the first blow fell. Mrs. Comstock, going to bed at
night in perfect health, was found in the morning stone-dead! Of
course, as no doc