"No, I never would have attempted it for myself. Change is only pain and weariness to me. I have no wish to leave dear, familiar Cairnforth till I leave it for--the place where my good old friend is now. And sometimes, Helen, I fancy the hills of Paradise will not be very unlike the hills about our loch. You would think of me far away, when you were looking at them sometimes?" Helen fixed her tender eyes upon him--"It is quite as likely that you may have to think of me thus, for I may go first; I am the elder of us two. But all that is in God's hands alone. About Edinburg now. When should you start?" "At once, I think; though, with my slow traveling, I should not be in time for the funeral; and even if I were, I could not attend it without giving much trouble to other people. But, as your father has shown me, the funeral does not signify. The great matter is to be of use to Mrs. Menteith and the children in the way I explained. Have I your consent, my dear!" For an answer, Helen pointed to a few lines in a Bible which lay open on the library table: no doubt her father had been reading out of it, for it was open at that portion which seems to have plumbed the depth of all human anguish--the Book of Job. She repeated the verses: "'When the ear heard me, then it blessed me; and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me; "'Because I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him: "'The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me, and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy.' "That is what will be said of you one day, Lord Cairnforth. Is not this something worth living for?" "Ay, it is!" replied the earl, deeply moved; and Helen was scarcely less so. They discussed no more the journey to Edinburg; but Lord Cairnforth, in his decided way, gave orders immediately to prepare for it, taking with him, as usual, Malcolm and Mrs. Campbell. By the time Captain Bruce returned from his ride, the guest was startled by the news that his host meant to quit Cairnforth at daylight the next morning, which appeared to disconcert the captain exceedingly. "I would volunteer to accompany you, cousin," said he, after expressing his extreme surprise and regret, "but the winds of Edinburg are ruin to my weak lungs, which the air here suits so well. So I must prepare to quit pleasant Cairnforth, where I have received so much kindness, and which I have grown to regard almost like home--the nearest approach to home that in my sad, wandering life I ever knew." There was an unmistakable regret in the young man's tone which, in spite of his own trouble, went to the earl's good heart.