“Oh, but I could not part with her. If I were to desert her, and send her to England, her father would claim her at once. Couldn’t we take her out with us?” “I’m afraid,” and he hesitated, “that Burmah--where I shall be for the next year--would be terribly trying for a girl of her age--in fact, to make no bones about it, if we took Cara out, she would be running a serious risk.” “Then that settles it,” said her mother, with decision. “Lancelot, I am very, very sorry, unspeakably sorry--but you must return alone.” It was in vain, that Major Lumley, like Mrs. Hesketh, argued and urged; his eloquence was wasted. “I would go with you with joy and thankfulness to the end of the earth--but my first duty is to Cara.” Lumley glanced at the tall, well-grown girl, with her rosy cheeks, and quick, bold eyes; and it seemed to him, that she was already well advanced in the wiles of a coquette as she laughed at, and teased the handsome youth, her companion. “After all, Letty, your girl is perfectly safe in England,” he urged. “Frances will find her a good school, and I shall pay for her education. I feel positively certain, that Blagdon will never trouble his head about her. He and his sister are mixed up with racing sets, and have no thoughts for anything else--and then, reflect--we are not old, you and I. We have known one another for years. Time is passing; here is the chance of our lives, and you want to throw it away. If we part now, we may never meet again.” Letty made no audible reply. She shook her head sadly and hopelessly, and tears ran down her face and dripped on the side of the steamer. Just at this unpropitious moment Cara rushed up, and unceremoniously thrusting herself between her mother, and her companion, said: “Mummy, I want a franc to buy some fruit! Why, Mummy,” she exclaimed, “you are crying! How funny!” “Do you think crying funny?” demanded Lumley, and his voice was sharp. “Yes--for Mummy,” she answered, unabashed; “she never cries except at nights--when she thinks no one knows. I cry often.” “You speak as if you enjoyed it,” he continued, giving Letty time to recover her composure. “What makes you cry?” “If I want things and Mummy says no; but when I cry, she always gives in.” A pause, and staring steadily at him, she continued, “What a long talk you and the Mum have had--all the way from Gersau, to Tell’s Chapel--and we are close to Fluellen.” Yes, so they were, and at Fluellen he joined the mail-train, which bore him south. It was the end of his journey; it was also the close of his brief dream of hope. “Here,” he said to Cara, handing her a little bit of gold, “run and buy fruit, and don’t bother your mother.” “Ah-ha!” she answered, with a knowing nod, her eyes bright with incipient coquetry, “want to get rid of me, don’t you? but thank you a million times all the same,” and kissing her hand, she ran off to join Fritz and exhibit her prize.