"Did I not always tell you that Salome was awfully clever? Not one of us could ever come up to her."
Even Aunt Anna was pleased when a lady, of whom she thought a great deal, said, "I have bought a charming story for children, called 'Under the Cedars.' Have you seen it?"
It was something to take it from her writing-table and to say, "It is written by a niece of mine, a very clever girl of seventeen. So young, and so full of talent."
Thus did dear little Salome win praise, and in her simple heart this was all as nothing to the joy of feeling that she had helped to lift the burden of care from those she loved.
Raymond sailed with Philip Percival, and was full of spirit and pleasure at the change. It was grief to his mother to lose him, but when she saw how happy he was in the prospect, she was comforted.
Raymond was improved and daily improving, but naturally selfish people do not suddenly become unselfish, and the whole complexion of a life is not changed with one sudden impulse. But he had really awakened to some sense of responsibility, and the continually good influence of Philip Percival kept up the impression of the past which might have otherwise died out.
When the parting was over, and the letters from Barbadoes came regularly, Mrs. Wilton began to feel the relief of knowing that Raymond was out of temptation and happy in the change of scene and people.
A bright prospect opened out to Philip Percival. He settled the affairs on the sugar-plantation with great skill, and returned in the spring with an account of what he had done so satisfactory to the partners in the large concern, that he had a permanent appointment with a large salary, and Raymond was to remain with him for another year.
"Then I shall come back," Philip said to Salome, "and ask you a question."
They were walking together from Roxburgh one beautiful May evening. Salome had been to spend the day with his mother, his last day in England, at his special request.