Taking it, Will grasped George's hand in silence. He was too overcome for words. Alma's eyes filled with happy tears. "O, I knew you could do anything!" she exclaimed gratefully. Harold looked on with a big lump gathering in his throat. With an effort he cleared it away; then he went over to George with a glowing face. Laying one hand on his shoulder, he said with boyish fervor, "You always were a brick, Cousin George!" He turned to the boy and looked at him with a shade of regret, "You won't forget me, little man?" he asked tenderly. "Forget you?" returned the boy, "Never!" And taking one hand of Will's and one of George's he looked frankly from one to the other. "It's 'nick and tuck' between you and father!!" he declared earnestly. Both men looked at each other understandingly. "It must always be so, Harold," said Will gravely. Later in the evening, when Harold had retired, Alma asked: "Did you find Betty well and happy?" "Yes, and she is engaged to Mr. Edgeway." "I'm not surprised," answered Alma. "I do hope that he is good enough for her." "He seems a good sort," answered George thoughtfully, "But I think Betty could have done better. She is an exceptionally fine little woman. By the way, are there any letters for me here? I gave this for my address. "Yes, one--and it looks like Betty's handwriting, but I am not sure." George opened it and read aloud. "Dear Dr. Cadman:--You will be very much surprised to know that I am going to Ephraim. Mother is very ill, and has sent for me. If I did not have to hasten home, I would stop over in Chicago to say goodbye to Alma and you, but I cannot see you until I return to New York to complete my studies--which may not be for a long time. "My engagement to Mr. Edgeway has been broken. "Give my love to Alma and Harold. I hope to hear from you all. "Praying that God will bless each one of you, "I am, your Ephraim friend, "Betty Emmit." "A short lived engagement!" exclaimed Alma. "I am not sorry," returned George. "I felt worried over her. She didn't seem happy." There was a moment's silence, then Alma said kindly, "George, you don't look well. What are you going to do now?" "I'm only tired out, Alma. I think that I will take a trip to somewhere for a good rest--away from New York and excitement for a time. I almost feel like making a hermit of myself for a while." "Why not visit Ephraim?" asked Alma, "The change of climate and quiet would do you good, and you couldn't be lonesome with Betty there." "That's a first class idea, Alma, I'll surprise Betty. I think her company would be a splendid antidote for my unsettled mood. At all times, she's a comfort, isn't she?" Alma looked at him keenly. "George, did it ever occur to you how fond you are of Betty?" "Why, of course," he replied promptly, "I've always loved the child, since I first met her, a small, eager youngster, ready to do big things." "But she is not a child now, George, she is a woman, and--free."