It is now time to return to Pocasset and inquire how our old acquaintances are prospering.

It was still a matter of wonder what had become of Mark. Mrs. Manning gave no information, and no letters were received at the post-office which would throw light on the mystery. Mark, by arrangement, directed all his letters to Mr. Hardy, who inclosed and forwarded them to the Pocasset office. Tom Wyman, the postmaster's son, was puzzled to account for the letters received from New York by Mrs. Manning.

"They must be from Mark," said James Collins.

"They don't seem to be in Mark's hand-writing."

"He probably gets some one to direct them for him, so as to throw dust in our eyes."

This was the conclusion upon which the two boys finally settled.

Another cause of wonder was the hermit's visits to the city. Since he had heard that his grandson was living, he went up often to consult with Mr. Hardy. Family affection in him had not died out. It had only been dormant, and now it was thoroughly reawakened.

"I long to see my daughter's boy," he said. "It will give me something to live for. I tremble lest the cup of happiness should be dashed from my lips, just as my hopes are awakened."

"Don't be anxious, old friend. Your affairs are in good hands. Mark is only a boy, but he has far more discretion and fidelity than most men. Do you know what I have in view?"

"Well?"

"If he succeeds in this enterprise I propose, with his mother's permission, to take him into my office, and train him up in my business. I have hitherto employed boys simply as boys, but Mark is one whom I can train up for a responsible position. I am getting older every year, and when I am really old, I shall be glad to have a young man at my side upon whom I can shift the burden of my business. Do you think his mother would object?"

"Mrs. Manning is a sensible woman. I think she will be glad to have her son so well provided for. If it is necessary I will myself advise her to commit him to your charge."

At length a telegram came from Mark, and by good luck when Mr. Taylor was in the office of his agent. It ran thus:

"John Hardy, New York.

"I am on my way to New York with little Jack. Particulars when we meet.
"Mark Manning."

"There, old friend, what do you say to that?" asked John Hardy, triumphantly. "Didn't I tell you the boy would succeed? Was my confidence misplaced?"

"He had my confidence from the first," said Anthony, his face luminous with happiness, "but I knew he had an adroit enemy in my nephew Lyman. I didn't dare to expect that a country boy would be equal to the emergency."

"Now, you can go home with a light heart. In a day or two, your grandson will be with you. What are your plans respecting him? Shall you take him to Pocasset?"

"I don't think I can do better. He will need a woman's care, and I know of no one who will prove kinder than Mrs. Manning."

"She has this in her favor at any rate. She has brought up her own boy well. But will the house be large or comfortable enough?"

"I am not very particular for myself. You will judge that when you remember the cabin in the woods, where I spent several years. The house is small, however, but there is another vacant, much larger and handsomer, which I can buy or rent, already furnished. The owner and occupant died recently, and his heirs, living in a distant state, want to sell it. It has a handsome lawn and a garden attached. It stands near the house of Mr. Collins."

"Well, you are able to gratify your own taste in the matter. I will send Mark down as soon as he arrives."

When Anthony reached home, he found Mrs. Manning anxious and perturbed. The cause will require so............