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his hand. That instinct of return, which man shares with all migratory creatures, and which years of restraint can deaden but never kill, lay for the time wholly hidden from feeling by the one passion powerful enough to subdue it. There had been a time when, had he yielded to the intense desire that possessed him, he would have taken the first boat available; when the very name of England filled his heart with a rapture such as the lover finds in the name of his sweetheart. All the while it had been in his power to gratify the longing had he so chosen. Of the many letters that reached him from his uncle and his cousins not one failed to speak of his return as otherwise than a more or less immediate event. Things had prospered greatly with his uncle. The Boer war, which had brought sorrow and suffering to thousands, had brought wealth to him, and in this increased prosperity he desired that his nephew should return to share. Mr. Hernshaw refused to entertain the idea that Geoffrey would settle permanently in the new land, but he offered to buy and stock a small farm for Robert, or to provide the capital necessary to carry on operations on a place already selected. This offer led to a species of compromise, by virtue of which and pending any ultimate decision the brothers drew on their uncle for £150 a year. This until his coming to the station had been the whole of their income, and it was easily absorbed in the expenses of living and the demands made on them by their section. It was not that Geoffrey was indifferent to money, or the ease and comfort it provides,—having been reared in comparative luxury it was next to impossible that he should be so,—but he had a feeling that before