Gwen cleared her throat. She sat in a low wicker chair by the open window of the drawing room, and for a minute her eye wandered out into the back garden, which looked in perfect order, and hardly needed the incessant hoeing and weeding of a lanky youth, who was now resting on his hoe and leaning against the wall in a sleepy attitude.

'We have now been here three months, and after the satisfactory evening we had with our accounts, Agatha, last week, we have come to the conclusion that we can live here well within our income. This being the case, and all anxiety for the future--'

'You're talking like a book,' interrupted Elfie saucily; 'don't purse up your mouth so, and look so superior, and like Cousin James.'

'Very well, then, I will come to the point at once. I mean to go out to California and pay Walter a visit, and I want to sail before the end of this month.'

There was a dead silence. Then Agatha said a little drily, 'And you will want your 100 pounds to do that, of course?'

'No, I don't.' Gwen's tone was a little sharp. 'I have some in hand from my writing. I can see from your faces that you don't approve, but I've had it in my mind for a long time, only I have waited to see how things would go. Cousin Jacob's treachery was a bitter blow, as I was afraid you would want me at home to look after you all--'

'We're not the poor fools you think us,' put in Clare indignantly.

Gwen went on as if she had not heard her: 'And now I have got the garden into such excellent condition, and you are all shaking down and finding friends and occupations for yourselves-Agatha, the vicar and the villagers; Clare, her sweet Miss Villars; and Elfie, divided between the church organ and her music at home-I shall not be needed or missed. I don't mean to be away for years, but I am sure from Walter's letters that he is not doing as well as he should. He wants shaking up, perhaps starting in a new groove; and, honestly, I want to see life in the Colonies. It will do me good, and I hope I shall do him good. I may be back in six months' time. That is my idea-to pay him a visit, and then come back to you here.'

'I suppose we should all like to visit him,' said Clare crossly. 'Why shouldn't one of us go, and you stay at home? I am sure a winter here will finish me.'

Walter seems such a stranger to us,' said Elfie, 'that I wonder if he will like it. He was always at a boarding-school, and we only saw him for the holidays, and then he went abroad directly he left school. I hardly know anything about him. Has he any idea you are going, Gwen?

'I will write by the next mail and tell him. I know him a little better than you do, Elfie, for you were but a child when he left England. He has often said how he would like one of us out there to keep house for him. Of course, he will be delighted.'

'I am sorry you want to go,' Agatha said slowly.

'Why? Is there any good reason why I should stay at home?'

Agatha was silent, and though the younger girls plied Gwen with innumerable questions, and were full of excitement about it, she said nothing, and presently walked out of the room.

Gwen looked after her with a mixture of doubtful perplexity and annoyance. She and Agatha had always been much together, and she valued her opinion, though determined not to be swayed by it. She felt this silence meant disapproval, and was by turns uneasy and indignant at it. It was not till after Clare and Elfie had retired to bed that night that Agatha referred to the matter. And Gwen little knew that she had been kneeling at her bedside praying for guidance in offering her advice, for more than an hour that evening.

'Well,' said Gwen, with a little laugh, as she reclined in her favourite wicker chair, and looked up at her sister's grave face, as she turned from her writing-table to speak, 'what does Madam Prudence say to my scheme?'

'I think it is too important a step to take hastily,' said Agatha.

'My dear, I have been thinking of it for months; there has been no haste in the matter. Removal of objection number one! Now for number two!'

'I think,' said Agatha slowly, 'that you are quite as likely to unsettle Walter as to settle him. He is not doing very grandly, but he keeps out of debt; and it seems to me that it is only by steady perseverance that fortunes are made nowadays. Then you may seriously inconvenience him by giving him such short notice of your intentions. A man living by himself on a small farm is not prepared to receive ladies at a day's notice. He may be away from home when you arrive. Oh yes, I know you are not going to be influenced by what I say, but I do ask you to look upon it as a serious matter. And, Gwen, you know I don't often "preach," as you term it, but I do wish you would practise the verse old Nannie gave you just before we left London. It is an important step. Do commit it unto the Lord.'

'I am not religious,' said Gwen, a little lightly.

'Do you never mean to be?'

'I don't know. Every one has a different nature. It is natural for you to be good. It is natural for you to trust and lean upon religion, because you have such a humble opinion of your own judgment and powers. Now I feel-I can't help feeling-a confidence in myself. It may be conceit, but it is natural for me to trust in my own judgment, and plan my own course of life, and until disaster attends my attempts I shall continue to act for myself. Of this I am certain!'

'Ah, don't say that!' exclaimed Agatha; 'it would be sad if disaster were to follow this step of yours. I hoped, from your advocating a country life, that you would be content to settle down here quietly. If it is the dulness of the place that is driving you abroad, I am sorry we ever came here.'

'I am never dull anywhere,' Gwen said quickly; 'I have too many resources. It is not that at all. I have wanted to go out to Walter for a long time, and now I have made enough money to do it, nothing will stop me.'

'You are so sure of yourself,' said Agatha, sighing.

'Yes, and I am not ashamed of it. We can't be all alike, and self-confidence is a great blessing sometimes. It saves one from an infinite amount of care and worry.'

Agatha was silent. As is often the case with sisters, there was great reserve between them on matters that lay closely to their hearts, and though Agatha longed to warn Gwen of her besetting fault, she hesitated.

Gwen continued with alacrity: 'I have made inquiries about steamers, and hope to sail the week after next. I have very little preparation to make, for I am not given to much luggage.'

'And you mean to go out quite by yourself?'

'Why not? In these days chaperons are unnecessary. There are always some nice people on board who befriend single women. I am not a young girl.'

'You are not very old,' said Agatha, scanning the bright, handsome face with its wilful mouth and determined chin; 'and as I know vanity is not a failing of yours, I may say that you are too good-looking to be going about the world alone.'

Gwen laughed. 'Oh, you poor old thing! Why will you try to mother us all, when you cannot manage it! You may be perfectly certain I can take care of myself. Now shall we go to bed, or have you any more objections to make?'

'I wish you would pray over it,' were Agatha's parting words; and when Gwen got to her room that night she pondered over them.

She was not actually irreligious. She read her Bible occasionally, and went through a form of prayer by her bedside every night; but religion had never touched her heart. It was but an empty name to her, and she was too secure in her self-confidence and pride to ever feel her need of anything outside herself.

She drew her Bible towards her now, and turned to the 37th Psalm. She first glanced at the verse Nannie gave her, then read the psalm through carefully and steadily.

'It exactly describes Cousin James,' was her inward thought. 'I wish we could always see the good righted in this life, and the wicked cut off. I am afraid I could not follow out these precepts in my life. It is all waiting and trusting and doing nothing oneself, but letting God do it all for one. It is a psalm that must bring wonderful comfort to Agatha. Of course, I shall be able to pray that my visit to Walter may be for good, but I am sure it will. It is not as if I am meditating some very wrong course of action. If they really wanted me here, I would not think of leaving them. I am going out for Walter's good. Oh dear! how often I wish I had been the man in our family!'

With such thoughts as these she presently bent her head, and asked a blessing on her undertaking, and then turned into bed, feeling very virtuous at having done so.

There was a great deal of talk between the sisters about Gwen's proposal, but not one of them now thought to dissuade her, and the only unpleasant criticism she had to bear was from Miss Miller.

Elfie and Gwen met her in the village, and she stopped them at once.

'What is this I hear?' she demanded, tapping Gwen on the shoulder with her stick. 'Are you going off to find a husband abroad, because you haven't been able to pick one up here? I thought you young ladies would be disappointed when you came to know our neighbourhood.'

'Our friends and acquaintances are not limited to this small corner, Miss Miller,' retorted Gwen, holding her head proudly; 'we should be in a poor plight if they were. And if we felt dull, London is not out of reach. I am going out to my brother.'

'So I have been told. You are going to live amongst bushrangers and savages. It shows a refined and modest taste to go where you will be the only woman. But I am surprised at nothing in these days, when everything is topsy-turvy, and society at its worst. Women vie with one another in being conspicuous, and girls go about the world in men's clothes!'

Elfie began to laugh, but Gwen said haughtily,-

'Since it does not surprise you, Miss Miller, I wonder you mention it at all.'

'Husband-hunting!' growled Miss Miller; and she hurried past them without another word.

'She is an impertinent woman!' said Gwen wrathfully.

'I think she is an old dear,' said Elfie merrily. 'You never hear people speak out their thoughts as she does! I always wonder what she is going to say next. The other day I was leaving a message for Agatha at the vicarage, when she came out with Lady Buttonshaw, who had been calling there. She said good-bye to her, and then added with great severity: "It is a good thing for you to be without your maid for a little. I shall not hurry Emma Gray to go to you. A woman might as well turn into a fashion-block as allow her maid to clothe and unclothe her as your maid does you! Bestir yourself, my dear. Find out on which side the buttons on your boots are, and how many hairpins are necessary for the erection of your pretty hair!" Lady Buttonshaw only laughed as she walked away. I suppose everybody knows that her bark is worse than her bite!'

Gwen had a different criticism pronounced upon her departure by old Deb and Patty. She went to wish them good-bye, and their surprise was great when she told them where she was going.

'Is it among the wild beasts and heathens? Well, you're a brave young lady to venture out all alone. But I should be terribly afeared of losin' my way. Are there signposts all the way?'

'There, Patty, you ain't showin' off your knowledge to talk so! Miss Gwen will go all the way in a steamer, and her brother will be meetin' her when she comes to land. It's the steamers are so tryin' to flesh and blood. Mr. Giles told me all about it when he went to America with his master. You have to sleep on shelves up the wall, and there be no washin' your clothes for the whole time you're on the sea, which to a clean, decent body must be dreadful! And the food is shaken out of you as fast as you gets it down, and 'tis a marvel that a body gets to the other side o' the world alive!'

'It's wonderful good of you, miss, to go to take care of your brother!' said Patty, regarding Gwen with an awe-struck face; 'but you gentlefolk seem to be hardier to such things than us should be. And then you'll be able to speak them foreign langwidges. But it's to be hoped the cannibals won't get hold on you. I've only seen one person come back from foreign parts alive, and that was Tom Clark, and he was a sailor. But I reckon there are a few beside him that live to come back!'

'You'll not be marryin' an Indian prince out there, miss?' put in Deb anxiously.

'Miss Gwen is a Christian,' Patty said solemnly. 'She wouldn't be marryin' a heathen who keeps wives by the score, and eats them up by turns!'

And Gwen laughingly assured them that she meant to return as she went-a single woman.

The days slipped by; Gwen, with her usual energy and determination, arranged for her journey in every detail, and when the time came, took leave of her sisters with cheerful equanimity.

'It is not for very long,' she said; 'and if you want me back sooner, you have only to wire and tell me so. I shall be back, I hope, before Christmas.'

But Christmas seemed to Agatha a long way off, and she perhaps of all the sisters felt most depressed at Gwen's departure.