“'They tell me, dear Marie-Celeste (and they means, of course, your Cousin Theodore and Donald), that you are taking a driving tour through the English lakes, and that if I should address a letter to you, care of Miss Dorothy Allyn, no one would be any the wiser; and that's just what I've done, you see, as, for reasons of his own, your Cousin Theodore seems to prefer it. You know already that this same Cousin Theodore has been up here in London several days with me, and as a result we have had many a long talk together; but you do not know, perhaps, that we came to the conclusion that your coming to England this summer had been just the best thing that could have happened to both of us. Likely as not you do not exactly understand how that can be, and it is as well, perhaps, that you should not; only take my word for it, that it is true, and ask no questions. This much, however, I will tell you. Ted said to me one day, 'I can tell you one thing, Uncle Everett, it was a talk I had with that dear child under an apple-tree, down at Nuneham, that made me feel that some people whom I care a great deal for still had faith in me, and it was she who gave me courage by what she told me to go home as fast as ever I could get there and then, Marie-Celeste, what do you suppose I said to him? Well, I just, told him that that same dear child had preached me two blessed sermons--one on the deck of the Majestic and the other exactly where a sermon should be preached, beneath the roof of dear old St. George's, and that what there was left of my life was going to be set in a new key.”