"By what train shall you go?" "Train? Oh, yes, I had almost forgotten trains. Hateful way of travelling, but saves time. Must arrange to be driven over to catch one at mid-day. Come and see me off." "Yes," said Leslie, "I'll come and see you off. What shall you take with you?" "Tooth-brush and comb," grunted Uncle Luke. "Dessay I shall find a bit of soap somewhere. Now then, have you anything to say before I go?" "There is no occasion; we can make our plans as we go up." "We?" "Yes: I am going with you." Uncle Luke smiled. "I knew you would," he said, quietly chuckling. "You knew I should? Why did you think that?" "Because you're only a big boy after all, Duncan, and show how fond you are of Louie at every turn." "I am not ashamed to own that I loved her," said the young man, bitterly. "Loved?" said Uncle Luke, quietly. "Wonder what love's like, to make a man such a goose. Don't be a sham, Leslie. You always meant to go. You said to yourself, when you thought ill of the poor girl, you would go after her and try and break the man's neck." "Not exactly, sir." "Well, something of the kind. And now Maddy Van Heldre has been giving you a good setting down, and showing you what a weak baby you are--" "Has Miss Van Heldre--" "No, Miss Van Heldre has not said a word; but your face is as plain as a newspaper, and I know what Maddy would say if anybody attacked my niece. There, what's the use of talking? You will say with your lips that Louise is nothing to you now, and that you believe she has eloped with some French scoundrel." Leslie bit his lip and made an impatient gesture. "While that noble countenance of yours, of which you are so proud, has painted upon it love and trust and hope, and all the big-boy nonsense in which young men indulge when they think they are only a half, which needs another half to make them complete." "I am not going to quarrel with you," said Leslie, flushing angrily, all the same. "No, my boy, you are not. You are coming with me, my unfortunate young hemisphere, to try and find that other half to which you shall some day be joined to make you a complete little world of trouble of your own, to roll slowly up the hill of life, hang on the top for a few hours, and then roll rapidly down. There, we have wasted time enough in talking, and I'll hold off. Thank ye, though, Leslie, you're a good fellow after all." He held out his hand, which Leslie slowly took, and Uncle Luke was shaking it warmly as Madelaine re-entered the room. "Well," said the old man grimly, "have you put the baby to bed?" "Uncle Luke!" said Madelaine imploringly; "pray be serious and help us." "Serious, my girl! I was never so serious before. I only called Margaret a baby. So she is in intellect, and a very troublesome and mischievous one. Glad to see though that my little matter-of-fact Dutch doll has got the better of her. Why, Maddy, henceforth you'll be able to lead her with a silken string."