farmhouse where the board would be very inexpensive, and that Mr.
Jocelyn, in the meantime, should remain in the city in order to
avail himself of any opening that he might discover.

After a day or two of search in the country, he found a place that
he thought would answer, and the family prepared as quickly as
possible for what seemed to them like a journey to Siberia.

Mildred's farewell to her own private apartment was full of touching
pathos. This room was the outward expression not merely of a refined
taste, but of some of the deepest feelings and characteristics
of her nature. In its furniture and adornment it was as dainty as
her own delicate beauty. She had been allowed to fit it up as she
wished, and had lavished upon it the greater part of her spending
money. She had also bestowed upon it much thought, and the skilful
work of her own hands had eked out to a marvellous extent the
limited sums that her father had been able to give her. The result
was a prettiness and light, airy grace which did not suggest the
resting-place of an ordinary flesh-and-blood girl, but of one in
whom the spiritual and the love of the beautiful were the ruling
forces of life.

It is surprising how character impresses itself on one's surroundings.
Mrs. Arnold's elegant home was a correct expression of herself.
Stately, formal, slightly rigid, decidedly cold, it suggested to
the visitor that he would receive the courtesy to which his social
position entitled him, and nothing more. It was the result of
an exact and logical mind, and could no more unbend into a little
comfortable disorder than the lady herself. She bestowed upon
its costly appointments the scrupulous care which she gave to her