Ella Risborough was then forty-two, seventeen years older than himself, and her only daughter was a child of sixteen.

He had loved them all--father, mother, and child--with the adoring gratitude of one physically and morally orphaned, to whom a new home and family has been temporarily given.

For Ella and her husband had taken a warm affection to the refined and modest fellow, and could not do enough for him.

His fellowship, and some small savings, gave him all the money he wanted, but he was starved of everything else that Man's kindred can generally provide--sympathy, and understanding without words, and the little gaieties and kindnesses of every day.

These the Risboroughs offered him without stint, and rejoiced to see him taking hold on life again under the sunshine they made for him.