'Father, at last I know myself and my own mind; the last wave of doubt and fear has rolled off me; I can see it all now, I feel sure. I write it tremblingly. I feel sure that it is all true. 'Oh, how good God has been to me! I feel almost like the prodigal; only no husks could have satisfied me for a moment; it was only the truth I wanted--truth literal and divine; and, father, you have no reason to think sadly of me any longer, for "before eventide my light has come."' 'I am writing now to tell you that it is my firm and unalterable intention to carry out your and my mother's wishes with respect to my profession; will you ask my friends not to seek to dissuade me, especially my friends at Kirkleatham? You know how sorely inclination has already tempted me; believe me, I have counted the cost and weighed the whole matter calmly and dispassionately. I have much to relinquish--many favourite pursuits, many secret ambitions--but shall I give what costs me nothing? and after all I am only thankful that I am not considered too unworthy for the work.' It was this letter, so humble and so manly, that filled Olive's brown eyes with light and lifted the weight from her heart. Cardie had not disappointed her; he had been true to himself and his own convictions. Mildred alone had her misgivings; when she next saw Richard, she thought that he looked worn and pale, and even fancied his cheerfulness was a little forced; and his admission that he had slept badly for two or three nights so filled her with alarm that she determined to speak to him at all costs. His composed and devout demeanour at service next morning, however, a little comforted her, and she was hesitating whether the change in him might be her own fancy, when Richard himself broke the ice by an abrupt question as they were walking towards Musgrave that same afternoon. 'What is all this about Ethel Trelawny, Aunt Milly?' And Mildred absolutely started at his tone, it was suppressed and yet so eager. 'She will not return to Kirkleatham for some weeks, Richard; she and her father are visiting in Scotland.' Richard turned very pale. 'It is true, then, Aunt Milly?' 'What is true?' 'That she is engaged to that man?' 'To Sir Robert Ferrers? What! have you heard of that? No, indeed, Richard, she has refused him most decidedly; why he is old enough to be her father!' 'That is no objection with some women. Are you sure? They are not in Renfrewshire, then?' 'They have never been there; they are staying with friends near Ballater. Why, Richard, what is this?' as Richard stopped as though he were giddy and covered his face with his hands. 'I never meant you or any one to know,' he gasped at length, while Mildred watched his varying colour with alarm; 'but I have not been able to sleep since I heard, and the suddenness of the relief--oh! are you quite sure, Aunt Milly?' with a painful eagerness in his tone very strange to hear in grave, self-contained Richard.