Auntie falters out one more message, "Tell Egbert that sister Amy's household have not our faith; suggest it, teach it if you can." Farewell, truest of friends. LAURA ROMEYN.
Mr. Growther was asleep in his chair when Haldane entered, and he stole by him and made preparations for departure with silent celerity. Then, valise in hand, he touched his old friend, who started up, and exclaimed: "Lord a' massy, where did you come from, and where yer goin'? You look kinder sperit like. I say, am I awake? I was dreamin' you was startin' off to kill somebody."
"Dreams go by contraries. It may be a long time before we meet again. But we shall have many a good talk over old times, if not here, why, in the better home, for your 'peaked-faced little chap' will surely lead you there," and he explained all in a few brief sentences. "And now, my kind, true friend, good-by. I thank you from my heart for the shelter you have given me, and for your stanch friendship when friends were so few. You have done all that you could to make a man of me, and now that you won't have time to quarrel with me about it, I tell you to your face that you are not a mean man. There are few larger-hearted, larger-souled men in this city," and before the bewildered old gentleman could reply, he was gone.
"Lord a' massy, Lord a' massy," groaned Mr. Growther, "the bottom is jest fallin' out o' everything. If he dies with the yellow-jack I'll git to cussin' as bad as ever."
Haldane found Mrs. Arnot's coachman at the depot with the letter Laura had written. As he read it his face flushed with the deepest pleasure. Having a few moments to spare, he pencilled hastily: "MISS ROMEYN--I have received from Michael the letter with the draft. Say to Mrs. Arnot I shall obey both the letter and spirit of her instructions. Let me add for myself that my best hopes are more than fulfilled. That you, who know all my past, could write such words seems like a heavenly dream. But I assure you that you overestimate both the character of my action and the danger. It is all plain, simple duty, which hundreds of men would perform as a matter of course. I ask but one favor, please look after Mr. Growther. He is growing old and feeble; I owe him so much--Mrs. Arnot will tell you. Yours--"
"He couldn't write a word more, Miss, the train was a movin' when he jumped on," said Michael when he delivered the note.