Madeline had another source of disquietude--her father's health seemed rapidly declining, and his spirits very low; so much so, that his physician ordered him to Europe, and rapid preparations were to be made, in order that they might leave America in the early autumn. Mr. Hamilton observed Madeline's great depression, for since Effie's death, he had seldom seen her smile; the old joyousness had vanished from her face, and the elasticity from her step. She was very lonely without her dear young friend, and the hours spent in her sitting-room so much alone, were not calculated to raise her spirits. Her walks were equally lonely; still she rambled to the sea-shore, and old Peter's cabin. In a short time, she had placed a simple marble slab at the head of Effie's grave, and planted some flowers that she had loved around the sacred spot. One evening she bent her footsteps to the old man's cabin. "I am glad to see you, Miss Madeline, for Master Roland was here last Monday, and left this little note if you should call;" and he handed her a small slip of paper, on which was written, "A thousand thanks for the sweet memento over my sister's grave; I know whose hand placed it there; the one whose friendship has never failed us, and who never can be forgotten. I hear that you are going to Europe; may God preserve and bless you with his guiding band and sustaining grace, prays now and always, Roland." Madeline read the little note with tears. "When was he here, Uncle Peter?" was her first question. "On Monday last; he came to see about his sister's grave, but found everything done before he got here. You ought to have seen him, Miss Madeline, when he came back from the grave; he sat down there," pointing to a broken chair, "and covering his face with his hands, he sobbed and wept so bitterly. When a man cries so hard, I know there must be some great sorrow." "What else did he say, Uncle Peter?" "He asked about you, Miss Madeline,--how you were, when you were here, how you looked, and if you ever spoke of him. He then asked about Mr. Hamilton. I told him how sick he was; he seemed so very sorry, but he did not say one word about Miss Matilda. I asked him if he was not going up to the Hall; but he said, 'No, Effie was gone, and there was nothing to call him there now.' Then he asked when you were going to Europe. I said, 'in about two weeks;' is that correct?" "Yes, Uncle Peter, if we can get ready for the steamer. Was that all he said?" "Yes, that was all; and then he went away, and I was so sorry, for he seemed so sad and lonely." Madeline returned with a bowed head to her home; it was as she had expected. Roland could not come to the Hall, now that Effie was gone. It was a comfort, however, to visit the old man, and Madeline's calls were frequent.