She never saw him again, for he enjoyed life out in South Africa so much, that he would not trouble to come home, even when he knew that she was ill. When she died, he wrote for little Celia to come out to him, but changed his mind before the next mail, and wrote again, saying that her coming would greatly inconvenience him, and asking Herbert to find a boarding-school for her. Karne was studying art in Paris at the time, but he returned to England before the funeral, and, in accordance with his mother’s last wish, took charge of his little half-sister. He and Celia were devoted to each other, and the child begged so hard not to be sent away from him to boarding-school, that he engaged a housekeeper whom his mother had known, and sent the little girl to a high school. Her education became his greatest care; and when she showed marked ability for music, he had her taught by one of the cleverest professors in the county, in order to have her talent developed in the best way possible. And now she had come to womanhood, and was anxious to spread her wings and see a little more of the world. Her teacher, Professor Bemberger, had imbued her with the idea that, with a voice like hers, it would be a thousand pities if she did not become a professional singer. He made her dissatisfied with her quiet life at Durlston; it was tame and dull, he said. In London, she would live, not vegetate; and in glowing terms he described what her life as a successful singer would be. Her half-brother received the idea with disfavour. Celia had no need to earn money by her voice, he said, for she was the daughter of a wealthy man; and in professional life there was disappointment to be met with, as well as success. He painted the reverse side of the picture, the hard work and many worrying details which must of necessity arise; but Celia would not be discouraged, and, as she had so set her heart on it, he reluctantly gave his consent. Now, however, that her going was decided, and everything definitely arranged, he wondered if he had done right after all. Celia, besides being an accomplished musician, was a beautiful and winsome girl, and although not altogether lacking in _savoir faire_, possessed very little knowledge of the world. Might not her beauty prove a danger to her in her new life? Hitherto she had been carefully guarded, for her brother had himself chosen her friends, and her tastes and ideas had been led in the right direction. Was he wise in sending her away from his influence, where she would come into contact with all sorts and conditions of people, and must inevitably pick up fresh ideas of evil as well as good?