There had always been a certain unworldliness about Mr Laurence--a gentle philosophy, an unexacting unselfishness, and of late all these had increased. Practical as he had proved himself in his far-seeing philanthropy, he was a man to whom it came naturally to live much in the unseen, to whom the thought that "to this life there is a to-morrow," was full of encouragement and consolation--a to-morrow in more senses than the one of individual blessedness--a to-morrow when the work begun here, however poor and imperfect in itself, shall be carried on, purified, strengthened, rendered a thousand times more powerful for good--a to-morrow even for the races yet unborn in this world. All this he believed, and his life had shown that he did so. Yet many people shook their heads over his "want of religious principle," his "dangerously lax notions," and prophesied that no blessing could follow the labours of such a man. But such sayings little troubled Sydney's father. He smiled with kindly tolerance, and thought to himself that some time or other such things would come to be viewed differently. About the middle of February, Mr Laurence and his daughter returned home to Wareborough. On the last day of March, Sydney's boy was born--a strong, handsome, satisfactory baby--with whom the young parents were greatly delighted. Sydney recovered her strength quickly, and before April was over, Mr Laurence, who had seemed much better of late, and who had taken wonderfully to his grandson, began to talk again of the often-deferred visit to Eugenia. "It would be a nice little change for you, Sydney, and Eugenia would be so pleased to see her little nephew. Her letters are full of questions about him. I have a great, mind to write to her myself, and ask what time next month would be convenient for her to receive us. I think my doing so would please her. I should be sorry for her to think we had not taken the first opportunity of going to see her. They are sure to be at home next month?" "Yes," said Sydney, "I remember Eugenia's saying in one of her letters, that they were not going to town this year. I don't know why, for not long ago she said something about their probably buying a house in town. Well, father dear, baby and I--and Frank too, I dare say--will be ready whenever you arrange for it with Eugenia."