August at the seaside, its sultry sunbeams softened by a breeze from the ocean, bringing health and vigour to worn-out frames, calmness and relief to overworked brains, and rest to the toilers in the battlefield of life. There is peace in the movement of the rippling waves, peace even in the sound as they dash lazily on the shore, and a feeling of rest in the aspect of the calm, smooth water, when its flowing tide is scarcely perceptible, and boats with their white sails are mirrored in its depths. In the afternoon of a sultry day in August two gentlemen might be seen near the open window of a drawing-room in the Isle of Wight. One of them is lying on a couch drawn close to the window, his pale face and delicate features plainly denoting a state of convalescence after a severe attack of illness. The eyes are large and bright, and the hair after a growth of six weeks just covers the head. The hands are thin and delicate, and the whole appearance and attitude betoken great weakness. "Have you quite got over the fatigue of the journey, Arthur?" asks the other gentleman, in whom we recognise Henry Halford. "Yes, quite," was the reply; "I am not so weak as I appear, Henry; I walked on the beach for a long distance this morning, and that accounts for my languid condition now. How are the little ones?" "Quite well and happy, Arthur, and all send their love to papa and Clara. Where is she?" "I sent her out with the nurse, she is assiduous in her attentions to me, and I am obliged to enforce the necessity of a walk sometimes. Dear child, I used to fear she would grow up forward and pert as well as precocious. These troubles seem to have sobered her, yet it very much interferes with the formation of a girl's character when she looks so womanly at sixteen as Clara does." While Arthur Franklyn spoke, Henry could not avoid comparing the style of his present conversation to the light-hearted, jocular talk of olden times, proving that trouble had sobered the father as well as the daughter. "Shall I leave you to have a little nap before dinner, Arthur?" he said. "No, Henry, there are so many things on my mind that I wish to talk about, and you would answer no questions nor hear anything I had to say when we first arrived; but I have been here a week, and I feel so much stronger and better, there can be no possible objection now." "I am half-afraid to allow you to excite yourself, Arthur; would it not be wiser to wait another week?" "No, no, Henry, you cannot tell what a relief it will be to my mind to unburden my heart to you. We shall not be interrupted, for I desired nurse to keep Clara out till four o'clock; this anxiety retards my recovery." "Well, my dear fellow, if it will really help you to get well I am ready to listen and answer questions, but remember you are not to excite yourself;" and Henry Halford drew a chair near his brother-in-law's couch and seated himself to listen.