“Nay, papa,” broke she in, with her own happy smile, “you may give it to Andy to-morrow, for I 've made you a smart new one, of your own favorite colors, too, the Dalton green and white.” “Many a time I 've seen the same colors coming in first on the Corralin course!” cried Dalton, with enthusiasm; for at the impulse of a new word his mind could turn from a topic of deep and painful interest to one in every way its opposite. “You were too young to remember it; but you were there, in the 'landau,' with your mother, when Baithershin won the Murra handicap, the finest day's flat racing I have it from them that seen the best in England that ever was run in the kingdom. I won eight hundred pounds on it, and, by the same token, lost it all in the evening at 'blind hookey' with old Major Haggs, of the 5th Foot, not to say a trifle more besides. And that 's her trunk!” said he, after another pause, his voice dropping at the words, as though to say, “What a change of fortune is there! I wonder neither of you hadn't the sense to take my old travelling chest; that's twice the size, and as heavy as a lead coffin, besides. Sorrow one would ever know if she hadn't clothes for a whole lifetime! Two men wouldn't carry it upstairs when it's empty.” “When even this valise is too large, papa?” “Oh dear, oh dear!” broke in Dalton; “you've no contrivance, after all. Don't you see that it 's not what 's inside I 'm talking about, at all, but the show before the world? Did n't I live at Mount Dalton on the fat of the laud, and every comfort a gentleman could ask, five years and eight months after I was ruined? And had n't I credit wherever I went, and for whatever I ordered? And why? Because of the house and place! I was like the big trunk beyond; nobody knew how little there was in it. Oh, Nelly dear, when you 've seen as much of life as me, you 'll know that one must be up to many a thing for appearance' sake.” Nelly sighed, but made no reply. Perhaps in secret she thought how much trouble a little sincerity with the world would save us. “We 'll be mighty lonesome after her,” said he, after a pause. Nelly nodded her head in sadness. “I was looking over the map last night, and it ain't so far away, after all,” said Dalton. “'T is n't much more than the length of my finger on the paper.” “Many a weary mile may lie within that space,” said Nelly, softly. “And I suppose we'll hear from her every week, at least?” said Dalton, whose mind vacillated between joy and grief, but still looked for its greatest consolations from without. Poor Nelly was, however, little able to furnish these. Her mind saw nothing but sorrow for the present; and, for the future, difficulty, if not danger. “You give one no comfort at all,” said Dalton, rising impatiently. “That's the way it will be always now, when Kate goes. No more gayety in the house; not a song nor a merry laugh! I see well what a dreary life there is before me.”