“Look here, Frank,” his wife said, with a tear glistening in her eye again, and a laugh that was nearly a cry, “I promise you solemnly, that if you once leave me behind, you leave me behind for good. You don’t mean it, do you, husband?” “No, darling; that is, I don’t mean it, if you don’t want it. Well, Prescott, and which of the colonies do you think would suit me best?” “Ah, that is a matter for great consideration, Frank. You must do nothing in a hurry. There are Canada, the Cape, the various Australian colonies, and New Zealand. You must get up the subject, and settle a little what line you mean to take up.” “By Jove, Prescott, it is a great idea, and has taken a tremendous weight off my mind. I did not see anything for it but the ring, you know, and Kate does not seem to fancy that. Well, we may consider the matter settled so far.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER III PROFFERED AID. Alice Heathcote had noticed that for a week past Captain Bradshaw had been unusually absent and moody. He had, however, upon the first occasion, when she had inquired if anything were the matter, answered so sharply, “Nothing, my dear, what makes you get such ideas in your head?” that she had not again approached the subject, and rather put it down to an access of her uncle’s chronic complaint of liver. They were one evening at a small dinner party at the house of an old friend. During a pause in the conversation at dessert, their host remarked, “Shocking bad business that of the ‘Indian’, Bradshaw.” “Very,” Captain Bradshaw said, curtly. “You had no shares in it, I hope?” “Not a penny,” Captain Bradshaw answered. “Bad business for your nephew Frank. I hear he’s completely done for. Furniture advertised! Fine young fellow, sorry for him—haven’t seen much of him of late. However, it doesn’t matter so much in his case. He’s got a good uncle, eh, Bradshaw?” “Frank and myself have had a difference,” Captain Bradshaw said stiffly; “I have not spoken to him since his marriage.” “God bless my soul!” the host said, in much confusion; “I beg your pardon—never dreamt of it—never, upon my life. You have been away so long, you see.” “It is of no consequence,” Captain Bradshaw said, calmly; “we will change the subject.”