'Thank you,' he said, brightening, 'that is something to keep my head above water, even if this place were all you think it.' 'My father thinks,' said Ethel. 'I am engaged now; I cannot go back,' said Leonard. 'Thank you. Miss May.' 'Thank you for listening patiently,' said Ethel. 'Good-bye.' 'And--and,' he added earnestly, following her back to the house, 'you do not think the Coombe days cancelled?' 'If you mean my hopes of you,' said Ethel, with a swelling heart, 'as long as you do your duty--for--for the highest reason, they will only take another course, and I will try to think it the right one.' Ethel had mentally made this interview the test of her regard for Leonard. She had failed, and so had her test; her influence had not succeeded, but it had not snapped; the boy, in all his wilfulness, had been too much for her, and she could no longer condemn and throw him off! Oh! why will not the rights and wrongs of this world be more clearly divided! CHAPTER XI The stream was deeper than I thought When first I ventured here, I stood upon its sloping edge Without a rising fear.--H. BONAR It was a comfort to find that the brothers parted on good terms. The elder was beholden to the younger for the acquiescence that removed the odium of tyranny from the expulsion, and when the one great disturbance had silenced the ephemeral dissensions that had kept both minds in a constant state of irritation, Henry wanted, by kindness and consideration, to prove to himself and the world that Leonard's real interests were his sole object; and Leonard rejoiced in being at peace, so long as his pride and resolution were not sacrificed. He went off as though his employment had been the unanimous choice of the family, carrying with him his dog, his rifle, his fishing-rod, his fossils, and all his other possessions, but with the understanding that his Sundays were to be passed at home, by way of safeguard to his religion and morals, bespeaking the care and consideration of his senior, as Henry assured himself and Mrs. Pugh, and tried to persuade his sister and Dr. May. But Dr. May was more implacable than all the rest. He called Henry's action the deed of Joseph's brethren, and viewed the matter as the responsible head of a family; he had a more vivid contemporaneous knowledge of the Axworthy antecedents, and he had been a witness to Henry's original indignant repudiation of such a destiny for his brother. He was in the mood of a man whose charity had endured long, and refused to condemn, but whose condemnation, when forced from him, was therefore doubly strong. The displeasure of a loving charitable man is indeed a grave misfortune.