Flora turned gratefully towards him. She knew that he possessed inexplicable power, and seemed to be able to produce results according to his pleasure, and she felt that for him to say that in this affair of the heart he would stand her friend, was almost tantamount--considering the extraordinary influence he possessed over her father--to placing her hand in Hal’s before the altar. . She bent her sweet eyes upon him gratefully. “How can I thank you?” she said, in a low tone. “Thank me!” he cried, with a grin, “you must wait before you do that. I say, you should never be premature with thanks; you should always wait until the promise is redeemed, and you are benefited to your wish, then thank. Promises are slippery things--I say promises sometimes are not fulfilled: thank me, my dear child, when you feel supremely happy through my instrumentality.” He turned his back to her, pressed his two hands together beneath his chin, and gazed heavenwards. “You shall be,” he murmured--“by God’s providence, you shall be.” Flora could not help regarding him with a strange mixture of reverence and dread; reverence, for he had been known only to her as a great benefactor to the family; and with dread because he was so singular in his outward form, and appeared at such remarkable moments, and in so strange a manner. He turned again to her. Apparently he read the expression of her features, for a pleased smile lighted up his gold-hued features, and he tapped her gently and pleasantly on the shoulder. “Come, come,” he said, “dry up those tears and look cheerful; I have said all shall go as you wish it; it shall. I have now an agreeable surprise for you; so you pop on your bonnet and make your way into the garden, and pace by the side of the fountain until my surprise comes and startles you.” “I pray you to excuse me, sir,” said Flora, faltering, “indeed I have no strength to leave this chamber just now.” “Nor spirit either, I fancy,” he observed, with his peculiar grin. She did not reply, and he went on-- “Well, you must have your surprise here, then, I suppose. It wears a hat, a coat, and trousers; it is bronzed with the sun in the face; it went away in years gone by without a word to family or friends, roamed over seas and strange lands”---- “Mark?” almost screamed Flora. “Come home,” laconically replied Nathan. Flora staggered to a seat, and looked as if she would faint; her nostrils were inflated, and she breathed short and quick. “Nonsense!” cried Nathan, growing frightened at her aspect. “Keep up your courage; he is well, hearty, happy, longing to see you. Shall I send him to you?” “This moment,” gasped Flora. “Oh, my heart aches, and I feel sick and faint, until he again folds his loving arms about me!” Nathan blew his nose and coughed.