of the money Mr. Buxton was to advance, with an
entreaty that Edward would not show himself out of his home; and an account
of a letter from Mr. Henry, stating that the Woodchester police believed
him to be in London, and that search was being made for him there.

Erminia looked very grave and pale. She gave her message to Mrs. Browne,
speaking little beyond what was absolutely necessary. Then she took Maggie
aside, and suddenly burst into tears.

"Maggie, darling--what is this going to America? You've always and always
been sacrificing yourself to your family, and now you're setting off,
nobody knows where, in some vain hope of reforming Edward. I wish he was
not your brother, that I might speak of him as I should like."

"He has been doing what is very wrong," said Maggie. "But you--none of
you--know his good points--nor how he has been exposed to all sorts of bad
influences, I am sure; and never had the advantage of a father's training
and friendship, which are so inestimable to a son. O, Minnie! when I
remember how we two used to kneel down in the evenings at my father's knee,
and say our prayers; and then listen in awe-struck silence to his earnest
blessing, which grew more like a prayer for us as his life waned away,
I would do anything for Edward rather than that wrestling agony of
supplication should have been in vain. I think of him as the little
innocent boy, whose arm was round me as if to support me in the Awful
Presence, whose true name of Love we had not learned. Minnie! he has had
no proper training--no training, I mean, to enable him to resist
temptation--and he has been thrown into it without warning or advice. Now
he knows what it is; and I must try, though I am but an unknowing girl, to
warn and to strengthen him. Don't weaken my faith. Who can do right if we
lose faith in them?"

"And Frank!" said Erminia, after a pause. "Poor Frank!"

"Dear Frank!" replied Maggie, looking up, and trying to smile; but, in
spite of herself, her eyes filled with tears. "If I could have asked him,
I know he would approve of what I am going to do. He would feel it to be
right that I should make every effort--I don't mean," said she, as the
tears would fall down her cheeks in spite of her quivering effort at a
smile, "that I should not have liked to have seen him. But it is no use
talking of what one would have liked. I am writing a long letter to him at
every pause of leisure."

"And I'm keeping you all this time,"