"Thank you for coming to see me, and for opening my eyes. They have been opened very wide. I have had a look at myself: I don't like what I have seen, but there is always such a thing as turning over the proverbial new leaf. I have been a cad in the past; I will make a try for being a gentleman in the future. I can't do what you suggest. Burn this, and try to forget our interview of to-night. I have got into a mess, and I will scramble on to my own legs somehow; but not in that way. "Good-bye, dad. You will hear from me as soon as I have any news worth relating. "Your affectionate son,-- "Michael." There is no use in describing the Major's rage. It lasted for about an hour. At the end of that time, he burned his son's letter and said to himself that he would try and forget him. But this was not at all easy: on the contrary, for the first time since his birth, the Major truly respected Michael, and in consequence could not get him out of his head. There was one other letter written that same evening by the young man. "Florence,-- "I have heard of your great fortune. God bless you. I was never worthy of you. I am going to exchange immediately into foreign service; but before I go, I want to take this opportunity to thank you for teaching me a lesson which to my dying day I shall never forget. I was tried in the fire, and was found unworthy. "Michael." Florence cried over this letter. She never showed it to any one. Even Brenda to her dying day never knew that Florence had received it. But although the Major burned his son's letter, Florence put hers away into a secret place where she kept her treasures. "The letter smooths out _some_ of the pain," she whispered to herself; "and I can think of him now without sorrow." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The End. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Girl and her Fortune, by L.T. Meade