With high hope the youthful couple had gone forth to try their fortune in the New World, and for some months things went cheerily enough with them. Then came speculations and accompanying failure, and Madelaine learnt only too well the weak side of the man whom she still loved, but with the pitiful sustaining tenderness of a nobler and braver character than his own. After the birth of their boy, Gerald had for a time displayed greater energy and perseverance in seeking to better his position, journeying often long distances in search of work. It was during one of these absences that Madelaine received the letter which almost broke her heart and sprinkled her chestnut hair with grey. It told her how her husband had been suddenly smitten by the cold hand of death while travelling in a wild part of the country, his body being laid to rest in the depths of the trackless forest. His watch and chain and an unfinished diary were the only tokens enclosed in the accompanying package, and the young widow was left to realize as best she could the desolate and penniless position in which she and her infant were now placed. Neither she nor Gerald had any relatives to whom she could appeal, and had it not been for the aid given to her in her distress by an eccentric and benevolent neighbour she would indeed have been destitute. Touched by the forlorn condition of the hapless pair, this aged recluse invited them to share his humble dwelling, and when he died about three months later, Madelaine found to her surprise, that he had willed the whole of his little property to herself and her son. One solitary stipulation he made, and that a hard one in the faithful Madelaine’s eyes. Only by adopting his name could she and the boy claim the legacy that he left. It was after much searching of heart that finally the thought of the benefit which would accrue to her child outweighed the repugnance she felt in setting aside the sacred name of her dead husband, and as Madelaine Power she set sail with her baby for England, and settled down in their new home. Helping out the small income by typewriting and fine needlework, she had managed hitherto to make a fairly comfortable living; but at present the thought of Robin’s education weighed somewhat heavily upon her heart. To be either a doctor or a surveyor was the summit of the boy’s ambition, but how to give him the training he required for such a career was a problem she had not solved as yet. As she let her mind wander again to the future, she chanced to look down upon the beach where a wave had run up higher than its fellows, almost to the spot where she stood. There at her feet lay a tiny fish, struggling vainly on the sand, a helpless waif, left high and dry by the retreating sea.