It was a good and a brave face, however, that of Fred Weldon, in spite of its dingy tones. When he opened his mouth to laugh, he exhibited a fine set of strong white teeth that made him almost beautiful. His laugh also was a ringing and a hearty laugh, which went straight into one's heart when heard. By-and-by also, when one began to examine his points, it was wonderful how many excellences and beauties were disclosed. Nicely shaped ears, although often skinned and roughened by the weather; well-shaped hands, although tanned by the sun; hair with a golden lustre and a sinuous waviness; delicately shaped lips; and a nose bold, fine, and straight, with nostrils sensitive as those of a well-bred horse. Fred Weldon decidedly improved on acquaintance, for he was polite, considerate, and of a singularly happy disposition. When the evil tidings came he showed his grit and breeding by at once facing the difficulty instead of bemoaning it idly. He had no longer any expectations beyond what pocket-money he had saved, and fifty pounds which an uncle had sent him, to pay his fare, second class, out to Australia, if he cared to go. This uncle told him kindly, but frankly, however, in his letter, that if he cared to go anywhere else for the present, it would be as well, for Australia could not hold out much-prospect for a penniless young man for some years yet to come. His mother and sisters were provided for, as this uncle had taken them home to his station. He need, therefore, suffer no anxiety on their account. He had only himself now to consider. It is a sad moment in the life of a boy when he loses his natural protector, even although he may step into his father's property. This desolation becomes intensified when, besides his father, the boy loses home, and, with what makes home attractive, all certainty of the future. Fred Weldon felt now, for the first time, that he was no longer a passenger in life's bark, but had been forced into the position of the formerly utterly trusted and lost pilot. He had now to steer where formerly he had left that responsibility to others. It would have been a most wretched time, those last two weeks at Shebourne Academy, for poor Fred Weldon, but for the kindly sympathy of both teachers and fellow-pupils. These made him feel that misfortune has its compensations, when it brings out these traits of kindness and friendship. The entire school united in showing to Fred how much he was cared for daring this period of grief and uncertainty.