Sir Everard was back and forth across the Channel, like an insane human pendulum, and the work went bravely on! Kingsland was being transformed--the landscape gardeners and the London upholsterers had _carte blanche_, and it was the story of Aladdin's Palace over again.

Sir Everard rubbed his golden lamp, and, lo! mighty genii rose up and worked wonders.
September came--the miracles ceased.

Even money and men could do no more.

October came.
Sir Everard's year of probation was expired.

The Reverend Cyrus Green overcame heroically his horror of seasickness and steamers, and went to Paris in person for his ward.