“He had better not let me find him so,” cried Mr. Huntley. “But now, don’t suffer this affair to worry you,” he added, turning heartily to Mr. Channing. “If Arthur’s guilty, I’ll eat him; and I shall make it my business to look into it closely when I reach home. You are incapacitated, my old friend, and I shall act for you.” “Did Ellen not mention this, in writing to you?” “No; the sly puss! Catch Miss Ellen writing to me anything that might tell against the Channings.” A silence followed. The subject, which the words seemed to hint at, was one upon which there could be no openness between them. A warm attachment had sprung up between Hamish Channing and Ellen Huntley; but whether Mr. Huntley would sanction it, now that the suit had failed, was doubtful. He had never absolutely sanctioned it before: tacitly, in so far as that he had not interfered to prevent Ellen from meeting Hamish in society--in friendly intercourse. Probably, he had never looked upon it from a serious point of view; possibly, he had never noticed it. Hamish had not spoken, even to Ellen; but, that they did care for each other very much, was evident to those who chose to open their eyes. “No two people in all Helstonleigh were so happy in their children as you!” exclaimed Mr. Huntley. “Or had such cause to be so.” “None happier,” assented Mrs. Channing, tears rising to her eyes. “They were, and are good, dutiful, and loving. Would you believe that Hamish, little as he can have to spare, has been one of the chief contributors to help us here?” Mr. Huntley lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “Hamish has! How did he accomplish it?” “He has, indeed. I fancy he has been saving up with this in view. Dear, self-denying Hamish!” Now, it just happened that Mr. Huntley was cognizant of Mr. Hamish’s embarrassments; so, how the “saving up” could have been effected, he was at a loss to know. “Careless Hamish may have borrowed it,” thought he to himself, “but saved it up he has not.” “What are we approaching now?” interrupted Mr. Channing. They were approaching the Prussian frontier; and there they had to change trains: more embarrassment for Mr. Channing. After that, they went on without interruption, and arrived safely at the terminus, almost close to Borcette, having been about four hours on the road. “Borcette at last!” cheerily exclaimed Mr. Huntley, as he shook Mr. Channing’s hand. “Please God, it may prove to you a place of healing!” “Amen!” was the earnestly murmured answer.