Mr. Knowles, feeling it to be impossible for him to leave his parish to accompany them, would not give consent to her going until he had received a letter from Sybil, that she would take the part of mother to the children of her old friend Mr. Edmond. But this arrangement, which relieved Helen of so much care, was given up at the last moment, in consequence of the sudden illness of her father. And Frederic, torn with disappointment and anxiety, was obliged to commit the travellers to the care of a gentleman who was returning to France with an invalid daughter. It is easy to imagine, then, with what impatience the lover and aunt awaited the first intelligence from the absent ones. First, came a hastily written note, in place of the long journal Helen had promised, just saying that sea-sickness and care of Frank had deprived her of the pleasure of writing on board ship; that the captain had shown them every kindness; and that they had concluded to accompany their new friends, Mr. and Miss LeFavor, to France, for the winter. In a few weeks, however, a thick package, bearing a foreign postmark, came to hand, directed to the Reverend Frederic Knowles. As it was addressed in part to Mrs. Prescott, I do not think I shall violate the rules of etiquette by copying it. "'VERY DEAR FRIENDS: By this time I am quite sure a letter from the wanderers will be welcome. It would be much pleasanter to sit on my low chair between you, in auntie's pleasant chamber, and talk of all I have seen and felt since I left home, but as that is impracticable at present, I must let my tongue rest while my pen performs the welcome task. "'The voyage to Liverpool was not so favorable to poor Frank's health as we hoped. For several days I was too sick to see him, or even to hear much from his stateroom, and his spirits, thus left to himself, suffered deplorably. Since we have reached this quiet village, the mild air and entire change of scene have benefited him greatly. We have a pleasant home just outside the churchyard, where we are so favored as to find a Protestant church and an excellent Rector. He is upward of seventy years old, but his complexion is still fresh and ruddy; while his long silver hair which waves over his collar is indeed a crown of glory. "'Monsieur D'Ortey and I are intimate friends. Don't laugh, Fred. Indeed it astonishes me when I find how freely I can tell him all the trouble I have in keeping this erring, wayward heart of mine in subjection. I wish you could see how tender he is with our dear invalid. While Frank was asleep, I took a walk with him and told him the sad story of Constance's early death. I described how they had loved one another, without a cloud of difference ever arising between them. I could see that his feelings were deeply moved.