“Godfrey, my son, I want you;” and Colonel Schuyler stood in the door, with a stern look of disapproval in his eyes. The colonel had read Miss Rossiter’s letter that morning, and tearing it in a dozen pieces, had answered, saying that the girl who had been so much to his lost boy, and was so much to his dear wife, would henceforth be his special care, and that if Miss Christine wanted a waiting-maid she must look elsewhere, as she could not have Gertie Westbrooke. This letter he had sent to the post; nor was he sorry for it even when he came so unexpectedly upon his son and fancied far more than he saw. Gertie was too closely connected with his dead boy for him to cast her off; but he could not keep her there, and on the instant he formed the plan that she should be educated away from Schuyler Hill, where Godfrey could not see her until matters between him and Alice were finally adjusted, and he had outgrown any boyish fancy he might entertain for this child. He had meant at first to keep Godfrey for a few days, but he sent him back at once, and as soon as Edith could bear it, told her of his decision with regard to Gertie, and told her in such a way that she did not venture to oppose him, though her heart ached with a new pain as she thought of losing the girl who seemed so very near to her. After many inquiries it was decided that the Misses H——’s school in Buffalo was the place for Gertie, inasmuch as the training there was very thorough; and when in the spring Godfrey came home for a short vacation, bringing Macpherson with him, he was told that Gertie was in Buffalo fitting for a teacher. CHAPTER XXXVI. AFTER FOUR YEARS. “Silently as the spring-time Its crown of verdure weaves, And all the trees, on all the hills, Open their thousand leaves”— So, silently fled the next four years, and I come now to the glorious day when summer was everywhere, from the perfume of the new-mown hay on the lawn to the golden flecks of sunshine on the river, and the musical hum of happy animal life heard on every side.