and longed for the termination of my voluntary exile. I had, of course,
kept up a regular correspondence with Alice and Uncle Richard, and of
late they had both pressed me to return home. "You have enough," wrote
my uncle, "to give you a start in Toronto, and I see no reason why
Alice and you should keep apart any longer. You will have no
housekeeping expenses, for I intend you to live with me. I am getting
old, and shall be glad of your companionship in my declining years. You
will have a comfortable home while I live, and when I die you will get
all I have between you. Write as soon as you receive this, and let us
know how soon you can be here,--the sooner the better."

The letter containing this pressing invitation found me in a mood very
much disposed to accept it. The only enterprise I had on hand which
would be likely to delay me was a transaction in wool, which, as I
believed, would be closed by the end of January or the beginning of
February. By the first of March I should certainly be in a condition to
start on my homeward voyage, and I determined that my departure should
take place about that time. I wrote both to Alice and my uncle,
apprising them of my intention, and announcing my expectation to reach
Toronto not later than the middle of May.

The letters so written were posted on the 19th of September, in time
for the mail which left on the following day. On the 27th, to my huge
surprise and gratification, the wool transaction referred to was
unexpectedly concluded, and I was at liberty, if so disposed, to start
for home by the next fast mail steamer, the _Southern Cross_,
leaving Melbourne on the 11th of October. I _was_ so disposed, and made
my preparations accordingly. It was useless, I reflected, to write to
my uncle or to Alice, acquainting them with the change in my plans, for
I should take the shortest route home, and should probably be in