"Cut off my supplies, and go quietly on." He stretched out a soothing hand, palm downwards.

"The responsibility for the future is mine; from to-night I take it upon myself." Much more in the same vein did Dyce pour forth, obviously believing every word he said, and deriving great satisfaction from the sound of his praises.

He went to bed, at length, in such a self-approving frame of mind that no sooner had he laid his head on the pillow than sweet sleep lapped him about, and he knew nothing more till the sunlight shimmered at his window.
A letter awaited him at the breakfast table; it had been forwarded from his London address, and he knew at a glance that it came from Mrs.
Woolstan, the mother of his pupil.

The lady, dating from a house at West Hampstead, wrote thus: "Dear Mr.Lashmar, "You will be surprised to hear from me so soon again.

I particularly want to see you.