“But, Cora, my dear, why can you not come into his conditions?  Why can you not marry Cumbervale?  He is a splendid fellow every way, and he loves you as hard as a horse can kick.  He is awfully in love with you, my dear.  Now, why not marry him and make everybody happy and all serene?”

“Because, Uncle Fabian, I don’t happen to be in love with him,” replied Corona, with just a shade of disdain in her manner.

“Well, my dear, I will not undertake to persuade you to change your mind.  If you have inherited nothing else from the Iron King, you have his strength of will.  What are you going to do, Cora?”

“I am going to carry out my purpose of going to the Indian Reserve as missionary to the Indian tribes, to devote all my time and all my fortune to their welfare.”

“A mad scheme, my dear Cora.  How are you, a young woman, going to manage to do this?  Under the auspices of what church do you act?”

“Under that of the broad church of Christian charity—­no other.”

“But how are you going to reach the field of your labors?  How are you going to cross those vast tracts, destitute of all inhabitants except tribes of savages, destitute of all roads except the government ’trails’?”

“You know, if you have not forgotten, that it was my purpose to join my brother at his post, and to establish my school near his fort and under its protection.”

“Well, yes; I remember hearing something of the sort; but really, Cora, I thought it was all talk since Sylvan went away.”

“But it is more than that.  Some time late in this month I shall go out to Fort Farthermost under the protection of Captain and Mrs. Neville.  They are now in Washington, where I am going immediately to join them.  When you read this letter, which I received after my grandfather had left me in anger this morning, you will understand all about it,” said Corona, drawing her brother’s last letter from her pocket and handing it to her uncle.

Mr. Fabian took it and read it carefully through; then returned it to her, saying: 

“Well, my dear, it does seem as if there were a fate in all this.  But what a journey is before you!  At this season of the year, too!  But, Cora, do not let Violet know that the grandfather has discarded you.  It would grieve her tender heart too much.  Just tell her that you are going out to your brother.  Do not even tell her so much as that to-night.  It would keep her from sleep.”

“I will not hint the subject this evening, Uncle Fabian.  I love Violet too much to distress her.”

“You will have to explain that your engagement with the Englishman is at an end.”

“Or, rather, that it has never had a beginning,” said Corona.

“Very well,” assented Mr. Fabian.  “And now I must go and dispatch a messenger to North End to fetch Clarence here to spend the night.  A hasty leave-taking at the railway depot would hardly satisfy Clarence, Cora.”