The Heron Dyke post-bag this morning bore a letter addressed to the Squire, dated from Florence. Ella Winter had written and posted it so that it should reach him on the twenty-fourth. After numerous congratulations and loving wishes came these words: "I cannot tell you how greatly I have longed to be at home for your birthday. But it was not to be. Now, however, that my six months' extradition are at an end, cannot you name a time for my return to Heron Dyke? We have been slowly making our way homeward, as you are aware, lingering here and there, and continually hoping to receive a summons that we were wanted back in the old nest at home. But even my aunt has grown tired at last of these perpetual journeyings from place to place, and at the present moment would, I verily believe, gladly exchange all the churches and picture galleries of Florence for the dear delights of an afternoon's shopping in Regent Street; and to her house in Bayswater we are returning. Do then, my dear uncle, in your next letter, name the day when you will expect to see me once again under the old roof-tree; and be assured that neither wind nor weather will keep me from your side an hour beyond it." An answer to this letter was sent from Heron Dyke the following day, which reached Miss Winter in due course. It has been said that Mr. Denison's letters to Ella were written for him by Hubert Stone from Mr. Denison's dictation, but each of them bore at the foot the Squire's own peculiar and crabbed signature, which anyone would have found it difficult even passably to imitate, and the present letter was no exception to this rule. In it occurred these passages: "I begin to be as anxious to see your young face again as you are to be back at home. But, as I have said all along--patience, patience. Enjoy yourself while you can, and, now that you _are_ abroad, see all that you can. Strive to enrich your mind in every possible way, and to lay up stores of pleasant memories for days to come. You will not soon get away again from the sound of the sea when once you are back, I promise you. I am as well and hearty as I was two years ago, so that you need not be troubled on the score of my health. That Jago is a wonderful fellow. A fortnight with your aunt at Bayswater would be a pleasant finish to your travels; it would please Mrs. Carlyon to have you with her for a time, and we must not be ungracious to her, lassie. Let us put it, then, that I shall look to see my pretty one back at Heron Dyke on the first of June, not to part again for a long, long time."