It’s a bad habit and never does any good. But remember that there are a few misguided and dreamy creatures who think you may do something one of these days if you ever get your eyes rubbed open wide enough. “GLENN ANDREWS” For the next year his habitual haunts would know him no more. He would combine with his trip a while in Paris. Casting aside all obligation he entered into the spirit of the life about him. Paris, with all its dangers, all its charms, the extraordinary influence of that congenial life, touched him with a glowing heat of inspiration. He revelled in his hopes--in his dreams. Here he would write something worthy of him. His nature was rich in the vivid impressions, intense feelings and fine thoughts which make life full of real meaning and significance. Here he saw many sides of it--much of it was meaningless and distasteful, and repelled all of his finer senses, but “it is in experience that one sees all that is most vile and all that is most beautiful.” This was an excellent opportunity. All the while he was maturing--beginning to have a more tolerant knowledge of his fellow man. His heart was kindlier--the weight of his judgment lighter. Half the world away, Esther was sorrowing for him--the memory of the disappointment he had caused touched deep fibres in her that ached and ached and ached. Besides this, she could see her old grandfather growing feebler with the setting of every sun. His small stock of vitality was slipping away. He knew that the stalk was withered, and soon must fall, yet he tried to face the truth in smiling silence. Sometimes--when he thought of the hands that had so longed to have control of his child--the anguish in him overflowed. They would soon have her in their grasp. THE GIRL. CHAPTER I. MR. CAMPBELL did not live through the winter. Esther was left to the care of his nephew, living in a remote part of the valley.