Mr. and Mrs. Earl met us at the station of the Southwestern Railway in London, and we were driven at once to their home. Hester came to breakfast with us, but Mrs. Earl would not let her go to Liverpool that day, ship-worn and fatigued as we all felt after the voyage.

"You resemble your father, sir, when he was of your age," said Mr. Earl, addressing my cousin, as we were eating. "But you are larger, much larger, than he was."

"You were my father's friend when he was a young man, I believe?" said Rayel.

"Yes, he and his brother were my best friends in those days. I tried to induce him to study law, but he was more inclined to medicine."

Rayel had found a man quite after his liking and the two were on the best of terms at once. Indeed, he seemed to talk with my benefactor as freely as he ever talked with me. I found Mrs. Earl very much as I had imagined my mother to have been--a full-faced, ruddy-cheeked woman; with a sweet voice and gentle manners. She greeted me as if I were her own son returned from a long journey, and when we sat down to talk after breakfast, I felt the joy and peace of one who has found a home after much wandering.

I spent the afternoon with Mr. Earl in his library, and he listened with deep interest to the complete story of my life since the night we parted in Liverpool.