CHAPTER XL.
THE STORM BURSTS.
Poor little Cecil Mayford had left us about nine o'clock in the morning of the day before this, and, accompanied by Charles Hawker, reached his mother's station about eleven o'clock in the day.
All the way Charles had talked incessantly of Ellen, and Cecil joined in Charles's praises of his sister, and joked with him for being "awfully spooney" about her.
"You're worse about my sister, Charley," said he, "than old Sam is about Miss Brentwood.

He takes things quiet enough, but if you go on in this style till you are old enough to marry, by Jove, there'll be nothing of you left!" "I wonder if she would have me ?" said Charles, not heeding him.
"The best thing you can do is to ask her," said Cecil.

"I think I know what she would say though." They reached Mrs.Mayford's, and spent a few pleasant hours together.
Charles started home again about three o'clock, and having gone a little way, turned to look back.

The brother and sister stood at the house-door still.

He waved his hand in farewell to them, and they replied.