"And thou hast also tempted here to rise, ’Mid sheltering pines, this cottage rude and grey." WORDSWORTH. With the arrival of the English mail came the expected letter from Mrs. Sinclair, conveying the welcome news to Fellows, which her telegram had prepared him for, that the Broadstone firm had decided to take no action upon the information supplied them about himself. It also expressed the mother’s great desire to see him; but he was urged to act as his circumstances might suggest. If he decided to come home, she would see that he did not want; but as her income was limited, she would not be able to supply him with pocket-money; and unless he saw his way to obtaining employment in England, it would not be wise to disturb present arrangements, if they were favourable. In his next letter, he was to be sure and inform her fully with regard to his position and prospects. The decision at which he had practically arrived was only confirmed and strengthened by the receipt of this letter. By the same mail the letter which the Broadstone solicitors had been instructed to send, came addressed to Charles at the Ranch. Seeing, by the printed address on the envelope, that it was from a firm of solicitors at Broadstone, what had been but suspicions before were now regarded as facts,—that it was Charles who had overheard the conversation between Ranger and Fellows, and had at once communicated with Broadstone. There was nothing else that the brother knew of, which could bring him into correspondence with such a place as Broadstone. "Look at that," said the farmer, as he handed the letter to John to be forwarded; "if anything was wanted to confirm the charge I made against your brother, is not that good proof?" "It certainly looks like it," replied John, in a disgusted tone. "Yes; and to play with words, as he did, up to the very last," added Ranger, "rather than try to undo the mischief he had been aiming at." "I feel it very sorely, Ranger, he being my own brother; more especially when I remember that nearly his last words to me were a caution to beware of Fellows. I am quite at a loss to understand what he could have been dreaming about." The letter, when it reached Charles, in no way tended to increase his happiness. He saw, only when it was too late, what a fool he had been. He had gained nothing, and had lost a good situation, besides being separated from a brother for whom he felt a very strong affection, although he may have had a queer way of showing it. He would gladly have recalled the act, could he have done so, since it had involved him in its consequences; but no thought of reparation to the wronged ever entered his narrow mind. Fellows—who now felt himself partially, at all events, re-habilitated—was anxious that the procuring of a home, to which he might be able to take the woman he was looking forward to making his wife, should not be delayed.