POPULAR NOVELS. BY MRS. MARY J. HOLMES. Ttimrr AHTJ KNiiLisH ORPHANS. , HOMBSTIAD ON HILLSIDE. 'LENA RIVERS. . MKADOW BUOOE.. DOHA DEANE. CorBiN MAUDS. MAKIAK GKET. EDITH LTLE. DAI.T THOKHTOH. CHATEAU D'On. QUBBMIK HBTHBKTOX. BESSIE'S FORTUNE. AHB DATXISHT. IIlWH WORTRINOTOH. f'AMEBOW PlUDB. ROPK MATHKB. ETHELTM'H MILBANK. EDNA BROWHIJT*. WEST LAWK. MILDRKD. FOKKEST UOUiB. MADELUJB. CHRIBTMA* Bros | GKETCHEN (New). " Mrs. Holmes li a peculiarly pleas nut and faecloatlng writer. Her books are always eutertainina;, and ehe has the rare faculty of enlisting the sympathy and affection* of her reader?, and of hold- ing their attention to her pages with deep and absorbing interest." 0. W. DILLINGHAM, PUBLISHER, SUCCESSOR TO G. W. CABLETON & Co., New York. GR TC EN BY MRS. MARY J. HOLMES, AUTHOB 0V TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE. DARKNESS AND DAYLIGHT. MILBANK. ENGLISH ORPHANS. 'LENA RIVERS. ETHELYN'S MISTAKE. HUGH WORTHINGTON. MADELINE. WEST LAWN. EDNA BROWNING. MARIAN GREY. BESSIE'S FORTUNE, ETC. NEW YORK G. W. Dillingham, Pitblisher, SUCCESSOR TO G. W. CARLETON & Co. LONDON : S. LOW, SON & CO. MDCCCLXXXVII. COPTEIGHT, 1887, BY DANIEL HOLMES. ALL BIGHTS RESERVED. STEREOTYPED BT SAMUEL STODDEB, 42 DET STREET, N. T. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAOB I. The Telegram 9 IL Arthur Tracy 12 HI. Mr. and Mrs. Frank Tracy 19 IV. Getting Accustomed to It 24 V. At the Park 32 VI. The Cottage in the Lane 38 VIL The Party 45 VET. Arthur 48 IX. Who is Gretchen ? 60 X. Arthur Settles Himself 72 XL The Storm 78 XII. The Tramp House 87 XIII. The Woman 94 XIV. Little Jerry 108 XV. Jerry at the Park 114 XVL The Funeral, and After 122 XVII. " Mr. Crazyman, Do You Want Some Cherries ?" 131 Arthur and Jerry 139 5 8 CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE XIX. Arthur's Plan 158 XX. The Working of Arthur's Plan ' 1 64 XXI. Mrs. Tracy's Diamonds 175 XXII. Searching For the Diamonds 184 XXIII. Arthur's Letter 198 XXIV. Ten Years Later 209 XXV. The Two Faces in the Mirror 216 XXVI. Maude's Letter 224 XXVII. " He Cometh Not," She Said 230 XXVIIL In Shannondale 237 XXIX. Why Harold Did Not Go to Vassar 249 XXX. The Walk Home 258 XXXL At Home 264 XXXIL The Next Day 269 XXXIII. At the Park House 283 XXXIV. Under the Pines with Tom 287 XXXV. The Garden Party 293 XXXVI. Out in the Storm 301 XXXVII. Under the Pines with Dick 307 XXXVIII. At Le Bateau 312 XXXIX. Maude 326 XL. " Do You Know What You Have Done ?" 336 XLI. What Jerrie Found under the Floor 341 XLII. Harold and the Diamonds 352 XLIIL Harold and Jerrie 366 XLIV. Jerrie Clears Harold 372 XLV. What Followed . 379 CONTENTS. 7 CHAPTER PAGE XL VI. The Letters 382 XLVII. Arthur 389 XL VIII. What They were Doing and had Done in Shan- nondale 393 XLIX. Telling Arthur 404 L. The Flower Fadeth 416 LI. Under the Pines with Harold 422 LII. "For Better, For Worse." 427 LIH. After Two Years.. .441 GRETCHEN. CHAPTER I. THE TELEGRAM. "BREVOORT HOUSE, NEW YORK, Oct. 6th, 18 . "HPO Mr. Frank Tracy, of Tracy Park, Shannondale. "I arrived in the Scotia this morning, and shall take the train for Shannondale at 3 P. M. Send some one to the station to meet us. " ARTHUR TRACY." This was the telegram which the clerk in the Shannon- dale office received one October morning, and dispatched to the Hon. Frank Tracy, of Tracy Park, in the quiet town of Shannondale, where our story opens. Mr. Frank Tracy, who, since his election to the State Legislature for two successive terms, had done nothing except to attend political meetings and make speeches on all public occasions, had an office in town, where he usu- ally spent his mornings, smoking, reading the p-ncrs, and talking to Mr. Colvin, his business agent and 1 yer, for, though born in one of the humblest New Eng 1 ad houses, where the slanting roof almost touched the g/ound in the rear, and he could scarcely stand upright in the chamber where he slept, Mr. Frank Tracy was a m;m of leisure now, and as he dashed along the turnpike in his handsome car- riage, with his driver beside him, people looked admiringly after him, and pointed him out to strangers as the Hon. Mr. Tracy, of Tracy Park, one of the finest places in 1* 10 THE TELEGRAM. the county. It is true it did not belong to him, but he had lived there so long that he looked upon it as his, while his neighbors, too, seemed to have forgotten that there was a Mr. Arthur Tracy, who might at any time come home to claim his own and demand an account of his brother's stewardship. And it was this Arthur Tracy, whose tele- gram announcing his return from Europe was read by his brother with feelings of surprise and consternation. " Not that everything isn't fair and above board, and he is welcome to look into matters as much as he likes," Prank said to himself, as he sat staring at the telegram, while the cold chills ran up and down his back and arms. "Yes, he can examine all Colvin's books; he will find them straight as a string, and didn't he tell me to take what I thought right as remuneration for looking after his property while he was gallivanting over the world ; and if he objects that I have taken too much, I can at once trans- fer those investments in my name to him. No, it is not that which affects me so; it is the suddenness of the thing, coming without warning, and to night of all nights, when the house will be full of carousing and champagne. What will Dolly say ? Hysterics, of course, if not a sick head- ache. I don't believe I can face her till she has hud a little time to brace up. Here, boy, I want you I" and he rapped on the window at a young lad who happened to be passing with a basket on his arm. "I want you to do an errand for me," he continued, as the boy entered the office and, removing his cap, stood respectfully before him. " Take this telegram to Mrs. Tracy, and here is a dime for you." " Thank you ; but I don't care for the money," the boy said. "I was going to the park anyway to tell Mrs. Tracy that grandma is sick and can't go there to-night." " Sick ! What is the matter ?" Mr. Tracy asked, in dismay, feeling that here was a fresh cause of trouble and worry for his wife. " She catched cold yesterday fixing up mother's grave," the boy replied; and, as if the mention of that grave had sent Mr. Tracy's thoughts straying backward to the past, he looked thoughtfully at the child for a moment, and then said : "How old are you, Harold ?" THE TELEGRAM. 11 " Ten, last August," was the reply ; and Mr. Tracy continued: " You do not remember your mother ?" "No, sir ; only a great crowd, and grandma crying so hard," was Harold's reply. " You look like her," Mr. Tracy said. e ' Yes, sir," Harold answered ; while into his frank, open face there came an expression of regret for the mother who had died when he was three years old, and whose life had been so short and sad. " Now, hurry off with the telegram, and mind you don't lose it. It is from my brother. He is coming to night." "Mr. Arthur Tracy, who sent the monument for my mother is he coming home? Oh, I am so glad !" Harold exclaimed, his face lighting up with joy, as he put the telegram in his pocket and started for Tracy Park, won- dering if he should encounter Torn, and thinking that if he did, and Tom gave him any chaff, he should thresh him, or try to. "Darn him!" he said to himself, as he recalled the many times when Tom Tracy, a boy about his own age, had laughed at him for his poverty and coarse clothes. " He ain't any better than I am, if he does wear velvet trousers and live in a big house. ''Tain't his'n; it's Mr. Arthurs, and I'm glad he is coming home, i wonder if he will bring grandma anything. I wish he'd bring me a pyramid. He's seen 'em, they say." Meantime, Mr. Frank Tracy had resumed his seat, and, with his hands clasped over his head, was wondering what effect his brother's return would have upon him. Would he be obliged to leave the park, and the luxury he had enjoyed so long, and go back to the old life which he hated so much ? " No ; Arthur will never be so mean/' he said. "He has always shown himself generous, and will continue to do so. Besides that, he will want somebody to keep the house for him, unless " And here the perspiration started from every pore as Frank Tracy thought: "What if he is married, and the us in his telegram means a wife, instead of a friend or servant as I imagined !" That would indeed be a calamity, for then his reign was over at Tracy Park, and the party he and his wife were 12 ARTHUR TRACT. to give that night to at least three hundred people would be their lust. " Confound the party \" he thought, as he arose from his chair and began to pace the room. "Arthur won't like that as a greeting after eleven years* absence. He never fancied being cheek by jowl with Tom, Dick, and Harry ; and that is just what the smash is to night. Dolly wants to please everybody, thinking to get me votes for Congress, and so she has invited all creation and his wife. There's old Peterkin, the roughest kind of a canal bummer when Arthur went away. Think of my fastidious brother shak- ing hands \vith him and Widow Shipley, who kept a low tavern on the tow path ! She'll be there, j[n her silks and long gold chain, for she has four boys, all voters, who call me Frank and slap me on the shoulder. Ugh I even I hate it all ;" and, in a most perturbed state of mind, the would be Congressman continued to walk the room, lamenting the party, and wondering what his aristocractic brother would say to such a crowd in his house on the night of his return. And if there should be a Mrs. Arthur Tracy, with pos- sibly some little Tracys ! But that idea was too horrible to contemplate, and he tried to put it from his mind, and to be as calm and quiet as possible until lunch time, when, with no very great amount of alacrity and cheerfulness, he started for home. CHAPTEE II. ARTHUR TRACT. A LTHOUGH it was a morning in October, the grass in *- the park was as green as in early June, while the flowers in the beds and borders, the geraniums, the phlox, the stocks, and verbenas, were handsomer, if possible, than they had been in the summer-time; for the rain, which had fallen almost continually during the month of September, had kept them fresh and bright. Here and there the scudct and golden tints of autumn were beginning to show ARTHUR TRACT. 18 on the trees; but this only added a new charm to a place which was noted for its beauty, and was the pride and admiration of the town. And yet Mrs. Frank Tracy, who stood on the wide piazza, looking after a carriage which was moving down the avenue which lead through the park to the highway, did not seem as happy as the mistress of that house ought to have been, standing there in the clear, crisp morning, with a silken wrapper trailing behind her, a coquettish French cap on her head, and costly jewels on her short, fat hands, which once were not as white and soft as they were now. For Mrs. Frank Tracy, as Dorothy Smith, had known what hard labor and poverty meant, and slights, too, because of the poverty and labor. Her mother was a widow, sickly and lame, and Dorothy in her girlhood had worked in the cotton mills at Langley, and bound shoes for the firm of Newell & Brothers, and rebelled at the fate which had made her so poor and seemed likely to keep her so. But there was something better in store for her than binding shoes, or working in the mills, and from the time when young Frank Tracy came to Langley as clerk in the Newell firm, Dorothy's life was changed and her star began to rise. They both sang in the choir, standing side by side, and sometimes using the same book, and once their hands met as both tried to turn the leaves together. Dorothy's were red and rough, and not nearly as delicate as those of Frank, who had been in a store all his life; and still there was a magnetism in their touch which sent a thrill through the young man's veins, and made him for the first time look critically at his companion. She was very pretty, he, thought, with bright black eyes, a healthful bloom, and a smile and blush which went straight to his heurt, and made him her slave at once. In three months' time they were married and commenced housekeeping in a very unostentatious way, for Frank had nothing but his salary to depend upon. But he was well connected, and boasted some blue blood, which, in Doro- thy's estimation, made amends for lack of money. The Tracys of Boston were his distant relatives, and he hud a rich bachelor uncle, who spent his winters in New Orleans and his summers at Tracy Park, on which he had lavished fabulous sums of money. From this uncle Frank had 14 ARTHUR TRACT. expectations, though naturally the greater part of his for- tune would go to liis godson and namesake, Arthur Tracy, who was Frank's elder brother, and as unlike him as one brother could well bo unlike another. Arthur was scholarly in his tastes, and quiet and gen- tlemanly in his manners, and, though subject to moods and fits of abstraction and forgetfulness, which won for him the reputation of being a "little queer/' he was exceed- ingly popular with everyone. Frank was very prond of his brother, and with Dorothy felt that he was honored, when, six months after their marriage, he came for a day or so to visit them, and with him his intimate friend, liar- old Hastings, an Englishman by birth, but so thoroughly Americanized as to pass unchallenged for a native. '\ here was a band of crape on Arthur's hat, and his manner was like one trying to be sorry, while conscious of an inward feeling of resignation, ii not content. The rich uncle had died suddenly, and the whole of his vast fortune was left to his nephew Arthur not a farthing to Frank, not even the mention of his name in the will ; and when Dorothy heard it, she put her white apron over her face, and cried as if her heart would break. They were so poor, she and Frank, and they wanted so many things, and the man who could have helped them was dead, and had left them noth- ing. It was hard, and she might not have made the young heir very welcome if he had not assured her that he should do something for her husband. And he kept his word, and bought out a grocery in Langley and put Frank in it, and paid the mortgage on his house, and gave him a thousand dollars, and invited Dolly to visit him ; and then it would seem as if he forgot them entirely, for with his friend Harold, he settled himself at Tracy Park, and played the role of the grand gentleman to perfection. Few ladies ever called at the house, for, with two or three exceptions, Arthur held himself aloof from the peo- ple of Shannondale. It was said, however, th;;t some- times, when he and his friend were alone, there was the sound of music in the parlor, where sweet Amy Crawford, daughter of the housekeeper, played and sang her simple ballads to the two gentlemen, who treated her with as much deference as if she had been a queen, instead of a poor young girl dependent for her bread upon her own and ARTHUR TRACT. 15 her mother's exertions. But beyond the singing in the twilight Amy never advanced, and so far as her mother knew, she hud never for a single instant been alone with either of the gentlemen. How, then, was the household electrified one morning, when it was found that Amy had fled, and that Harold Hastings was the companion of her flight ? " I wanted to tell you/' Amy wrote to her mother in the note left on her dressing-table, " I wanted to tell you and be married at home, but Mr. Hastings Avould not allow it. It would create trouble, he said, between him- self and Mr. Tracy, who, I may confess to you in confi- dence, asked me twice to be his wife, and when I refused, he was so angry and behaved so strangely, and there was such a look in his eyes, that I was afraid of him, and it was this fear, I think, Avhich made me willing to go away secretly with Harold and be married in New York. We are going to Europe ; shall sail to-morrow morning at nine o'clock in the Scotia. The marriage ceremony will be per- formed before we go on board. I shall write as soon as we reach Liverpool. You must forgive me, mother, and I am sure you would if you knew how much I love Mr. Hast- ings. I know he is poor, and that I might be mistress of Tracy Park, but I love Harold best. It is ten o'clock, and the train passes at eleven, so I must say good-by. "Yours lovingly, " AMY." This letter Mrs. Crawford found upon entering her daughter's room, after waiting more than an hour for her appearance at the breakfast, which they always took by themselves. To say that she was shocked and astonished would but faintly portray the state of her mind as she read that her beautiful young daughter had gone with Harold Hastings, whom she had never liked, for, though he Avas handsome and agreeable, and gentlemanly as a rule, she knew him to be thoroughly selfish and indolent, and she trembled for Amy's happiness when a little time had quenched the ardor of his passion. Added to this was another thought which made her brain reel for a moment. Arthur Tracy had wished to make Amy his wife, and the mis- 16 ARTHUR TRACT. tress of Tracy Park, which she would have graced so well, for in all the town there was not a fairer, sweeter girl than Amy Crawford, or one better beloved. But it was too late now. There was no turning back the wheels of fate ; and forcing herself to be as calm as possible, she took the note to Arthur, who was waiting impatiently in the library for the appearance of his friend. " Luzy dog \" Mrs. Crawford heard him say, as she approached the open door. " Does he think he has noth- ing to do but to sleep ? We were to start by this time, and he in bed yet! " " Are yon speaking of Mr. Hastings?" Mrs. Crawford asked, as she stepped into the room. " Yes/' was his haughty reply, as if he resented the question, and her presence there. He could be very proud and stern when he felt like it, and one of these moods was on him now, but Mrs. Craw- ford did not heed it, and sinking into a chair, she began: " I came to tell you of Mr. Hastings, and Amy. I found this note in her room. She has gone to New York with him. Tiiey took the eleven o'clock train last night. They are to be married this morning, and sail for Europe." For a moment Arthur Tracy stood looking at her, while his face grew white as ashes, and into his dark eyes, there came a gleam like that of a madman. "Amy gone with Harold, my friend!" he said, at last "Gone to be married! Traitors! both of them. Curse them! If he were here I'd shoot him like a dog; and she I believe I would kill her too." He was walking the floor rapidly, and to Mrs. Crawford it seemed as if he really were unsettled in his mind, he talked so incoherently and acted so strangely. " What else did she say?" he asked, suddenly, stopping and confronting her. " You have not told me all. Did she speak of me? Let me see the note," and he held his hand for it. For a moment Mrs. Crawford hesitated, but as he grew more and more persistent she gave it to him, and then watched him as he read it, while the veins on his forehead began to swell until they stood out like a dark blue net- work against his otherwise pallid face. ARTHUR TRACT. 17 " Yes," lie said between his teeth. " I did ask her to be my wife, and she refused, and with her soft, kittenish ways made me more in love with her than ever, and more her dupe. I never suspected Harold, and when I told him of my disappointment, for I never kept a thing from him, he laughed at me for losing my heart to my housekeeper's daughter ! I could have knocked him down for his sneer at Amy, and I wish now I had! He does not mean to marry your daughter, madam, but if he does not, I will kill him! He was certainly mad, and Mrs. Crawford shrank away from him as from something dangerous, and going to her room took her bed in a fit of frightful hysterics. This was followed by a state of nervous prostration, and for a few days she neither saw nor heard of, nor inquired for Mr. Tracy. At the end of the fourth day, however, she was told by the house-maid that he had that morning packed his valise and, without a word to any one, had taken the train for New York. A week went by, and then there came a letter from him, which was as follows : " NEW YORK, May, 18. "Mss. CRAWFORD: lam off for Europe to-morrow, and when I shall return is a matter of uncertainty. They are married; or at least I suppose so, for I found a list of the passengers who sailed in the Scotia, and the names, Mr. and Mrs. Hastings, were in it. So that saves me from breaking the sixth commandment, as I should have done if he had played Amy false. I may not make myself known to them, but I shall follow them, and if he harms a hair of her head I shall shoot him yet. My brother Frank is to live at Tracy Park. That will suit his wife, and as you will not care to stay with her, I send you a deed of that cottage in the lane by the wood where the gardener now lives. It is a pretty little place, and Amy liked it well. We used to meet there sometimes, and more than once I have sat with her on that seat under the elm tree, and it was there I asked her to be my wife. Alas 1 1 loved her so much, and I could have made her so happy; but that is past, and I can only watch her ut a distance. When I have anything to communicate, I will write again. " Yours truly, " ARTHUR 18 ARTHUR TRACT. " P. S. Take all the furniture in your room and A my s, and whatever else you need for your house. I shall tell Colvin to give you a thousand dollars, and when you want more let him know. I shall never forget that you are Amy's mother." This was Arthur's letter to Mrs. Crawford, while to his brother he wrote: " DEAR FBANK: I am going to Europe for an indefi- nite length of time. Why I go it matters not to you or any one. I go to suit myself, and I want you to sell out your business in Langley and live at Tracy Park, where you can see to things as if they were your own. You will find everything straight and square, for Colvin is honest and methodical. He knows all about the bonds, and mort- gages, and stocks, so you cannot do better than to retain him in your service, overseeing matters yourself, of course, and drawing for your salary what you think right and necessary for your support and for keeping up the place as it ought to be kept up. I inclose a power of attorney. "When I want money I shall call upon Colvin. I may be gone for years and perhaps forever. " I shall never marry, and when I die, what I have will naturally go to you. We have not been much like brothers for the past few years, but I don't forget the old home in the mountains where we were boys together, and played, and quarreled, and slept under the roof, where the blan- ket's \vere hung to keep the snow from sifting through the rafters upon our bed. "And, Frank, do you remember the bitter mornings, when the thermometer was below zero, and we performed our ablutions in the wood-shed, and the black eye you gave me once for telling mother that you had not washed yourself at all, it was so cold ? She sent you from the table, and made you go without your breakfast, and we had ham and johnny-cake toast that morning, too. That was long ago, and our lives are different now. There are marble basins, with silver chains and stoppers, at Tracy Park, and you can have a hot bath every day if you like, in a room which would not shame Caracalla himself. And I know you will like it, and Dolly, too; but don't make fools of MR. AND MRS. FRANK TRACT. 19 yourselves. Be quiet and modest, and act as if you had always lived at Tracy Park. Be kind to Mrs. Crawford, who is a lady in every sense of the word. " And now, good-by. I shall write occasionally, but not often. " Your brother, " ABTHUE TRACY." CHAPTER III. MB. AND MKS. FRANK TRACT. MB. FRANK, in his small grocery at Langley, was weighing out a pound of butter for the Widow Simp- son, who was haggling with him about the price, when his brother's letter was brought to him by the boy who swept his store and did errands for him. But Frank was too busy just then to read it. There was a circus in the village that day, and it brought the country people into the town in larger numbers than usual. Naturally, many of them paid Frank a visit in the course of the morning, so that it was not until he went home to his dinner that he thought of the letter, which was finally brought to his mind by his wife's asking if there were any news. Mrs. Frank was always inquiring for and expecting news, but she was not prepared for what this day brought her. Neither was her husband; and when he read his brother's letter, which he did twice to assure himself that he was not mistaken, he sat for a moment perfectly bewil- dered, and stared at his wife, who was putting his dinner upon the table. " Dolly/' he gasped at last, when he could speak at all "Dolly, what do you think? Just listen. Arthur is going to Europe, to stay forever, perhaps, and has left us Tracy Park. We are going there to live, and you will be as grand a lady as Mrs. Athcrton, of Brier Hill, or that young girl at Collingwood." Dolly had a platter of ham and eggs in her hand, and she never could tell, though she often tried to do so, what 20 MR. AND MRS. FRANK TRACT. prevented her from dropping the whole upon the floor. She did spill some of the fat upon her clean table-cloth, she put the dish down so suddenly, and then sinking into a chair, she demanded what her husband meant. Was he crazy, or what ? " Not a bit of it," he replied, recovering himself, and beginning to realize the good fortune which had come to him. " We are rich people, Dolly. Head for yourself ;" and he passed her the letter, which she seemed to under- stand better than he had done. " Why, yes/' she eaid. " We are going to Tracy Park to live; but that doesn't make us rich. It is not ours." . " 1 know that," her husband replied. "" But we shall enjoy it all the same, and hold our heads with the best of them. Besides, don't you see, Arthur gives me carte Handle as to pay for my services, and, though I shall do right, it is not in human nature that I should not feather my nest when I have a chance. Some of that money ought to have been mine. I shall sell out at once if I can find a purchaser, and if I can't, I shall rent the grocery and move out of this hole double-quick." His ideas were growing faster than those of his wife, who was attached to Langley and its people, and shrank a little from the grand life opening before her. She had once spent a few days at Tracy Park, as Arthur's guest, and had felt great restraint even in the presence of Mrs. Crawford and Amy, whom she recognized as ladies, not- withstanding their position in the house. On that occasion she had, with her brother-in-law, been invited to dine at Brier Hill, the country-seat of Mrs. Grace Atherton, where she had been so completely overawed, that she did not know what half the dishes were, or what she was expected to do. But, by watching Arthur, and declining some things which she felt sure were beyond her comprehension, she managed tolerably well, though when the dinner was over, and she could breathe freely again, she found that the back of her new silk gown was wet with perspiration, which had oozed from every pore during the hour and a half she had sat at the table. " Such folderol 1" she said to a friend, to whom she was describing the dinner. " Such folderol ! Chang- ing your plates all the time eating peas in the winter, with nothing under the sun with them, and drinking coffee MR. AND MRS. FRANK TRACT. 21 out of a cup about as big as a thimble. Give me the good old-fashioned way, I say, with peas and potatoes, and meat, and things, and cups that will hold half a pint and have some thickness that you can feel in your mouth." And now she was to exchange the good, old-fashioned way for what she termed " folderol," and for a time she did not like it. But her husband was so delighted and eager, that he succeeded in impressing her with some of his enthusiasm, and after he had returned to his grocery, and her dishes were washed, she removed her large kitchen apron, and pulling down the sleeves of her dress, went and stood before the mirror, where she examined herself critically, and not without some degree of compla- cency. Her hair was black and glossy, or would be if she had time to care for it as it ought to be cared for ; her eyes were large and bright, and perhaps in time she might learn to use them as Mrs. Atherton used hers. " She is older than I am," she said to herself ; " there are crow-tracks around her eyes, and her complexion is not a bit better than mine was before I spoiled it with soap- suds, and stove-heat, and everything else." Then she looked at her hands, but they were red and rough, and the nails were broken, and not at all like the nails which an expert has polished for an hour or more. Mrs. Atherton's diamond rings would be sadly out of place on Dolly's fingers, but time and abstinence from work would do much for them, she reflected, and after all it would be nice to live in a grand house, ride in a handsome carriage, and keep a hired girl to do the heavy work. So, on the whole, she began to feel quite reconciled, and to wonder how she ought to conduct herself in view of her future position. She had intended going to the circus that night, but she gave that up, telling her husband that it was a second-class amusement any way, and she did not believe that either Mrs. Atherton or the young lady at Collingwood patronized such places. So they stayed at home and talked together of what they should do at Tracy Park, and wondered if it was their duty to ask all their Langley friends to visit them. Mrs. Frank decided that it was. She was not going to begin by being stuck up, she said ; and when she left Langley four weeks later, 22 MB. AND MRS. FRANK TRACT. every man, woman, and child of her familiar acquaintance in town, had been heartily invited to call upon her at Tracy Park, if ever they came that way. Frank had disposed of his business at a reasonable price, and had rented his house with all the furniture, except such articles as his wife insisted upon taking with her. The bureau, and bedstead, and chairs which she and Frank had bought together in Springfield just before their marriage, the Boston rocker in which her old mother had sat until the day she died, the cradle in which she had rocked her baby boy who was lying in the Langley grave^ yard, were dear to the wife and mother, and though her husband told her she could have no use for them, there was enough of sentiment in her nature to make her cling to them as something of the past, and so they were boxed up and forwarded by freight to Tracy Park, whither Mr. and Mrs. Tracy followed them a week later. The best dressmaker in Langley had been employed upon the wardrobe of Mrs. Frank, who, in her traveling dress of some stuff goods of a plaided pattern, too large and too bright to be quite in good taste, felt herself per- fectly au fait, until she reached Springfield, where Mrs. Grace Atherton, accompanied by a tall, elegant-looking young lady, entered the car and took a seat in front of her. Neither of the ladies noticed her, but she recognized Mrs. Atherton at once, and guessed that her companion was the young lady from Collingwood. Dolly scanned both the ladies very closely, noticing every article of their costumes, from their plain linen col- lars and cuffs to their quiet dresses of gray, which seemed so much more in keeping with the dusty cars than her buff and purple plaid. " I ain't like them, and never shall be," she said to herself, with a bitter sense of her inferiority pressing upon her. " I ain't like them, and never shall be, if I live to be a hundred. I wish we were not going to be grand. I shall never get used to it/' and the hot tears sprang to her eyes as she longed to be back in the kitchen where she had worked so hard. But Dolly did not know how readily people can forget the life of toil behind them, and adapt themselves to one of luxury and ease ; and with her the adaptability com- MR. AND MRS. FRANK TRACT. 23 menccd in some degree the moment Sbannondale station was reached, and she saw the handsome carriage waiting for them. A carriage finer far and more modern than the one from Collingwood, in which Mrs. Atherton and the young lady took their seats, laughing and chatting so gayly that they did not see the woman in the big plaids who stood watching them with a rising feeling of jealousy and resentment, because she was not noticed. But when the Tracy carriage drew up, Grace Atherton saw and recognized her, and whispered, in an aside to her companion : " For goodness* sake, Edith, look ! There are the Tracys, our new neighbors." Then she bowed to Mrs. Tracy, and said : " Ah, I did not know you were on the train." " I sat right behind you/' was Mrs. Tracy's rather ungracious reply ; and th'en, not knowing whether she ought to do it or not, she introduced her husband. "Yes. Mr. Tracy how do you do'?" was Mrs. Ather- ton's response ; but she did not in return introduce the young girl, whose dark eyes were scanning the strangers so curiously ; and this Dolly took as a slight, and inwardly resented. But Mrs. Atherton had spoken to her, and that was something, and helped to keep her spirits up as she was driven along the turnpike to the entrance of the park. On the occasion of Mrs. Frank s first and only visit to her brother-in-law it was winter, and everything was cov- ered with snow. But it was summer now, the month of roses, and fragrance, and beauty, and as the carriage passed up the broad, smooth avenue which led to the house, and Dolly's eye wandered over the well-kept grounds, sweet with the scent of newly-mown grass, and filled with every adornment which taste can devise or money procure, she felt within her the first stirring of the pride, and satis- faction, and self-assertion which were to grow upon her so rapidly and transform her from the plain, unpretentious woman who had washed, and ironed, and baked, and mended in the small house in Langley, into the arrogant, haughty lady of fashion, who courted only the rich, and looked down upon her less fortunate neighbors. Now, however, she was very meek and humble, and trembled as 24 GETTING ACCUSTOMED TO IT. she alighted from the carriage before the great stone house which was to be her home. " Isn't this grand, Dolly ?" her husband said, rubbing his hands together, and looking about him complacently. " Yes, very grand/' Dolly answered him ; " but some- how it makes me feel weaker than water. I suppose, though, I shall get accustomed to it." CHAPTER IV. GETTINQ ACCUSTOMED TO IT. TN the absence of Mrs. Crawford, who for a week or -*- more had been domesticated in the cottage which Arthur had given her, there was no one to receive the strangers except the cook and the house-maid, and as Mrs. Tracy entered the hall the two came forward, bristling with criticism, and ready to resent anything like interfer- ence in the new-comers. The servants at the park had not been pleased with the change of administration. That Mr. Arthur was a gentle- man whom it was an honor to serve, they all conceded ; but with regard to the new master and mistress, they had grave doubts. Although none of them had been at the park on the occasion of Mrs. Tracy's first visit there, many rumors concerning her had reached them, and she would scarcely have recognized herself could she have heard the remarks of which she was the subject. That she had worked in a factory which was true was her least offense, for it was whispered that once, when the winter was unusually severe, and work scarce, she had gone to a soup- house, and even asked and procured coal from the poor- master for herself and her mother. This was not true, and would have argued nothing against her as a woman if it had been, but the cook and the house-maid believed it, and passed sundry jokes together while preparing to meet " the pauper," as they designated her. GETTING ACCUSTOMED TO IT. 25 In this state of things their welcome could not be very cordial, but Mrs. Tracy was too tired and too much excited to observe their demeanor particularly. They were civil, and the house was in perfect order, and so much larger and handsomer than she had thought it to be, that she felt bewildered and embarrassed, and said "Yes 'em," and "No, ma'am," to Martha, and told Sarah, who was wait- ing at dinner, that she "might as well sit down in a chair as to stand all the time; she presumed she was tired with so many extra steps to take." But Sarah knew her business, and persisted in standing, and inflicting upon the poor woman as much ceremony as possible, and then, in the kitchen, she repeated to the cook and the coachman, with sundry embellishments of her own, the particulars of the dinner, amid peals of laugh- ter at the expense of the would-be lady. It was hardly possible that mistress and maids would stay together long, especially as Mrs. Tracy, when a little more assured, and a little less in awe of her servants, began to show a disposition to know by personal observation what was going on in the kitchen, and to hint broadly that there was too much waste here and expenditure there, and quite too much company at all hours of the day. "She didn't propose to keep a boarding-house," she said, " or to support families outside, and the old woman who came so often to the basement door with a big basket under her cloak must discontinue her calls." Then there occurred one of those Hibernian cyclones, which sweep everything before them, and which in this instance swept Mrs. Tracy out of the kitchen for the time being, and the cook out of the house. Her self-respect, she said, would not allow her to stay with a woman who knew just how much coal was burned, how much butter was used, and how much bread was thrown away, and who objected to giving a bite now and then to a poor old woman, who, poor as she was, had never yet been helped by the poor-master, or gone to a soup-house, like my lady! Martha's departure was followed by that of Sarah, and then Mrs. Tracy was alone, and for a few days enjoyed herself immensely, cooking her own dinner, and eating it when and where she liked in the kitchen mostly, as that 2 26 GETTING ACCUSTOMED TO IT. kept the flies from the dining-room, and saved her many steps, for Dolly was beginning to find that there was a vast difference between keeping a house with six rooms and one with thirty or more. Her husband urged her to try a new servant, saying there was no necessity for her to make a slave of herself ; but she refused to listen. Economy was a part of her nature, and besides that she meant to show them that she was perfectly independent of the whole tribe ; the tribe and them referring to the hired girls alone, for she knew no one else in town. No one had called, and a bow from Mrs. Atherton, whom ghe had seen at church was all the recognition she had received from her neighbors up to the hot July morning, a week or more after the house-maid's departure, when she was busy in the kitchen canning black raspberries, of which the garden was full. Like many housekeepers who do their own work, Dolly was not very particular with regard to her dress in the morning, and on this occasion her hair was drawn from her rather high forehead, and twisted into a hard knot at the back of her head ; her calico dress hung straight down, for she was minus hoops, which in those days were very large ; her sleeves were rolled above her elbows, and, as a protection against the juice of the berries, she wore an apron made of sacking. In this garb, and with no thought of being interrupted, she kept on with her work until the last kettle of fruit was boiling and bubbling on the stove, and she was just glancing at the clock to see if it were time to put over the peas for dinner, when there came a quick, decisive ring at the front door. " Who can that be?" she said to herself, as she wiped her hands upon her apron. " Some peddler, I dare say. Whv couldn't he come round to the kitchen door, I'd like to know?" She had been frequently troubled with peddlers and feel- ing certain that this was one she started for the door in no very amiable frame of mind, for peddlers were her abomination. Something ailed the key, which resisted all her efforts to turn it ; and at last, putting her mouth to the keyhole, she called out, rather sharply: " Go to the back door, I can't open this." GETTING ACCVSTOMED TO IT. 2? Then, as she caught a whiff of burnt sirup, she hurried to the kitchen, where she found that her berries had boiled over, and were hissing and sputtering on the hot stove, raising a cloud of smoke so dense that she did not see the person who stood on the threshold of the door until a voice wholly unlike that of any peddler said to her : " Good-morning, Mrs. Tracy. I hope I am not intrud- ing." Then she turned, and, to her horror and surprise, saw- Grace Atherton, attired in the coolest and daintiest of morning costumes, with a jaunty French bonnet set coquettishly upon her head, and a silver card-case in her hand. For the moment Dolly's wits forsook her, and she stood looking at her visitor, who, perfectly at her ease, advanced into the room, and said : ' I hope you will excuse me, Mrs. Tracy, for this morn- ing call. I came " But she did not finish the sentence, for by this time Dolly had recovered herself a little, and throwing off her apron, began nervously: " Not at all not at all. I supposed you were some peddler or agent when I sent you to this door. They are the plague of my life, and think I'll buy everything and give to everything because Arthur did. I am doing my own work, you see. Come into the parlor;" and she led the way into the dark drawing-room, where the chairs and sofas were shrouded in white linen, and looked like so many ghosts in the dim, uncertain light. But Dolly opened one of the windows, and pushing back the blinds, let in a flood of sunshine, so strong and bright that she at once closed the shutters, saying, apolo- getically, that she did not believe in fading the carpets, if they were not her own. Then she sat down upon an otto- man and faced her visitor, who was regarding her with a mixture of amusement and wonder. Grace Atherton was an aristocrat to her very finger- tips, and shrank from contact with anything vulgar and unsightly, and, to her mind, Mrs. Tracy represented both, and seemed sadly out of place in that handsome room, with her sleeves rolled up and the berry stains on her hands and face. Grace knew nothing by actual experience of canning 28 GETTING ACCUSTOMED TO IT. berries, or aprons made of sacking, or of bare arms, except it were of an evening when they showed white and fair against her satin gown, with bands of gold and precious stones upon them, and she felt that there was an immeasur- able distance between herself and this woman, whom she had come to see partly on business and partly because she thought she must call upon her for the sake of Arthur Tracy, who was one of her friends. Her cook, who had been with her seven years, had gone to attend a sick mother, and had recommended as a fit person to take her place the woman who had just left Tracy Park. " I do not like to take a servant without first knowing something of her from her last employer," she said; "and, if you don't mind, I should like to ask if Martha left you for anything very bad." Mrs. Tracy colored scarlet, and for a moment was silent. She could not tell that fine lady in the white mus- lin dress with seas of lace and embroidery, that Martha had called her second classy, and stingy, and snooping, and mean, because she objected to the amount of coal burned, and bread thrown away, and time consumed at the table. All this she felt would scarcely interest a person like Mrs. Atherton, who might sympathize with Martha more than with herself, so she finally said: " Martha was saucy to me, and on the whole it was bet- ter for them all to go, and so I am doing my own work." "Doing your own work !" and Grace gave a little cry of surprise, while her shoulders shrugged meaningly, and made Mrs. Tracy almost as angry as she had been with Martha when she called her mean and stingy. " It can- not be possible that you cook, and wash, and iron, and do everything," Mrs. Atherton continued. "My dear Mrs. Tracy, you can never stand it in a house like this, and Mr. Arthur would not like it. Why, he kept as many as six servants, and sometimes more. Pray let me advise you, and commend to you a good girl, who lived with me three years, and can do everything, from dressing my hair to making blanc-mange. I only parted with her because she was sick, and now that she is well, her place is filled. Try her, and do. not make a servant of yourself. It is not fitting that you should." GETTING ACCUSTOMED TO IT. 29 Grace was fond of giving advice, and had said more than she intended saying when she began, but Mrs. Tracy, though annoyed, was not angry, and consented to receive the girl who had lived at Brier Hill three years, and who, she reflected, could be of use to her in many ways. "While sitting there in her soiled working dress talking to Mrs. Atherton, she had felt her inferiority more keenly than she had ever done before, while at the same time she was conscious that a new set of ideas and thoughts had taken possession of her, reawaking in her the germ of that ambition to be somebody which she had felt so often when a girl, and which now was to bud and blossom, and bear fruit a hundred fold She would take the girl, and from her learn the ways of the world as practiced at Brier Hill. She would no longer wear sacking aprons, and open the door herself. She would be more like Grace Atherton, whom she watched admiringly as she went down the walk to the handsome carriage waiting for her, with driver and footman in tall hats and long coats on the box. This was the beginning of the fine lady into which Dolly finally blossomed, and when that day Frank went home to his dinner he noticed something in her manner which he could not understand until she told him of Mrs. Atherton's call, and the plight in which that lady had found her. "Served you right," Frank said, laughing till the tears ran. " You have no business to be digging round like a slave when we are able to have what we like. Arthur said we were to keep up the place as he had done, and that does not mean that you should be a scullion. No, Dolly ; have all the girls you want, and hold up your head with the best of them. Get a new silk gown, and return Mrs. Atherton's call at once, and take a card and turn down one corner or the other, I don't know which, but this girl of hers can tell you. Pump her dry as a powder horn ; find out what the quality do, and then do it, and don'c bother about the expense. I am going in for a good time, and don't mean to work cither. I told Colvin this morn- ing that I thought I ought to draw a salary of about four thousand a year, besides our living expenses, and though he looked at me pretty sharp over his spectacles, he said nothing. Arthur is worth a million, if he is worth a cent. 30 GETTING ACCUSTOMED TO IT. So, go it, Dolly, while you are young," and in the exuber- ance of his joy, Frank kissed his wife on both cheeks, and then hurried back to his office. That day they had dined in the kitchen with a leaf of the table turned up as they had done in Langley, but the next day they had dinner in the dining-room, and were waited upon by the new girl as well as it was possible for her to do with her mistress' interference. "Never mind ; Mr. Tracy's in a hurry. Give him his pie at once," she said, as Susan was about to clear the table preparatory to the dessert ; but she repented the speech when she saw the look of surprise which the girl gave her, and which expressed more than words could have done. "Better let her run herself," Frank said, when Susan had left the room, " and if she wants to take every darned thing off the table and tip it over to boot, let her do it. If she has lived three years with Mrs. Athertou, she knows what is what better than we do." " But it takes so long, and I have so much to see to in this great house," Dolly objected, and her husband replied : " Get another girl, then ; three of them if you like. "What matter how many girls we have so long as Arthur pays for them ; and he is bound to do that. He said so in his letter. You are altogether too economical. I've told you so a him .1 red times, and now there is no need of sav- ing. I want to see you a lady in silks and satins like Mrs. Atherton. Pump that girl, I tell you, and find out what ladies do 1" This was Frank's advice to his wife, and as far as in her lay she acted upon it, and whatever Susan told her was done by Mrs. Atherton at Brier Hill, she tried to do at Tracy Park : except staying out of the kitchen. That, from her nature, she could not do. Consequently she was constantly changing cooks, and frequently took the helm herself, to the great disgust of her husband, who managed at last to imbue her with his own idea of things. In course of time most of the neighbors who had any claim to society called, and among them Mrs. Crawford. But Mrs. Tracy had then reached a point from which she looked down upon one who had been housekeeper where she was now mistress, and whose daughter's good name GETTING ACCUSTOMED TO IT. 31 was Tinder a cloud, as there were some who did not believe that Harold Hastings had ever made Amy his wife. When told that Mrs. Crawford had asked for her, Mrs. Tracy sent word that she was engaged, and that if Mrs. Crawford pleased, she would give her errand to the girl. " I have no errand. I came to call," was Mrs. Craw- ford's reply.; and she never crossed the threshold of her old home again until the March winds were blowing, and there was a little boy at the park. At the last moment the expected nurse had fallen sick, and in his perplexity Mr. Tracy went to the cottage in the lane and begged Mrs. Crawford to come and care for his wife. Mrs. Crawford was very proud, but she was poor, too, and as the price per week which Frank offered her was four times as much as she could earn by sewing, she con- sented at last, and went as nurse to the sick woman and the baby, Tom, on whose little red face she imprinted many a kiss for the sake of her daughter, who was still abroad, and over whom the shadow of hope and fear was hanging. Dolly Tracy's growth, after it fairly commenced, had been very rapid, and when Mrs. Crawford went to her as nurse she had three servants in her employ, besides the coachman, and was imitating Mrs. Atherton to the best of her ability ; and when, early in the following summer, they received the wedding cards of Edith Hastings, the young lady from Collingwood, who had married a Mr. St. Claire, she felt that her position was assured, and from that time her progress was onward and upward until the October morning, ten years later, when our story proper opens, and we see her standing upon the piazza of her handsome house, with every sign of wealth and luxury about her person, from the silken robe to the jewels upon her hands, which once had canned berries in her kitchen, where she received Grace Atherton with her sleeves above her elbows. There were five servants in the house now, and they ran over and against each other, and quarreled, and gos- siped, and worried her life nearly out of her, until she sometimes wished she could send them away, and do the work herself. But she was far too great a lady for that. She was thoroughly up in etiquette, and did not need Susan 32 AT THE PARR. to tell her what to do. She knew all about visiting cards, and dinner cards, and cards of acceptance, and regret, and condolence, and she read much oftener than she did her Bible a book entitled " Habits of Good Society." Three children played in the nursery now, Tom, and Jack, and Maude, and she strove with all her might to instill into their infant minds that they were the Tracys of Tracy Park, and entitled to due respect from their infe- riors ; and Tom had profited by her teaching, and was the veriest little braggart in Shannondale, boasting of his father's house, and his father's money, without a word of the Uncle Arthur wandering no one knew where, or cared particularly, for that matter. Arthur had never been home since the day he quitted it to look after Amy Crawford, now lying in the grave- yard of Shannondale, under the shadow of the tall monu- ment which his money had bought. At first he had written frequently to Mrs. Crawford, and occasionally to his brother, and his agent, Mr. Colvin ; then his letters came very irregularly, and in one he told them not to feel anxious if they did not hear from him in a long time, as in case of his death he had arranged to have the news com- municated to them at once. After this letter, nothing had been heard from him until the morning when his telegram came and so greatly disturbed the mental equilibrium of both Mr. and Mrs. Frank Tracy. CHAPTER Y. AT THE PAKK. FEAXK had at first grown faster than his wife, and the change in his manner had been more perceptible ; for with all her foolishness Dolly had a keener sense of right, and wrong, and justice than her husband. She had opposed him stoutly when he raised his own salary from $4,000 to 80,000 a year, on the plea that his services were worth it, and that two thousand more or less was noth- AT THE PARK 33 ing to Arthur ; and when he was a candidate for the Leg- islature she had protested against his inviting to the house and giving beer and cider to the men whose votes he wanted, and for whom as men he did not care a farthing ; but when lie came up for Congress she forgot all her scru- ples, and was as anxious as himself to please those who could help him secure the nomination and afterward the election. It was she who had proposed the party, to which nearly everybody was to be invited, from old Peterkin, and Widow Shipleigh, to Mr. and Mrs. St. Claire from Grassy Spring, Squire Harrington from Collingwood, and Grace Athertan from Brier Hill. Very few who could in any way help Frank to a seat in Congress were omitted from the list, whether Republican or Democrat; for Frank was popular with both parties, and expected help from both. Over three hundred cards had been issued for the party, which was the absorbing topic of conversation in t'.ietown, and which brought white kids and white muslins into great requisition, while swallow-tails and non-swallow-tails were discussed in the privacy of households, and discarded or decided upon according to the length of the masculine purse or the strength of the masculine resista, for dress- coats were not then the rule in Shannondale. Old Peter- kin, however, whom Frank in his soliloquy had designated a canal bummer, was resolved to show that he knew what was aufait for the occasion and a new suit throughout was in progress of making for him. "Tracy should have his vote and that of fifty more of the boys to pay for his ticket to the doin's," he said ; and this speech, which was reported to Mrs. Tracy, reconciled her to the prospect of receiving as a guest the coarsest, roughest man in town, whose only recommendation was his money and the brute influence he exercised over a certain class. Dolly hud scarcely slept for excitement since the party had been decided upon, and every ting seemed to be mov- ing on very smoothly until the morning of the day appointed for the party, when it seemed as if every evil came at once. First the colored boy, who was to wait in the upper hall, was attacked with measles. Then Grace Atherton drove round to say that it would be impossible for her to be pres- ent, as she had received news from New York which made it necessary for her to go there by the next train. She 2* 34 AT THE PARK was exceedingly sorry, she said, and for once in her life Grace was sincere. She was anxious to attend the party, for, as she said to Edith St. Claire in confidence, she wanted to see old Peterkin in his swallow-tail and white vest, with a shirt-front as hig as a platter. There was a great deal of sarcasm and ridicule in Grace Atherton's nature, but at heart she was kind and meant to be just, and after a fashion really liked Mrs. Tracy, to whom she had been of service in various ways, helping her to fill her new position more gracefully than she could otherwise have done, and enlightening her without seeming to do so on many points which puzzled her sorely. On the whole they were good friends, and, after expressing her regret that she could not be present in the evening, Grace stood a few moments chatting familiarly and offering to send over flowers from her greenhouse, and her own maid to arrange Mrs. Tracy's hair and assist her in dressing. Then she took her leave, and it was her carriage which Mrs. Tracy was watching as it went down the avenue, when little Har- old Hastings appeared around the corner of the house, and, coming up the steps, took off his cap respectfully, as he said : " Grandma sends you her compliments, and is very sorry that she has rheumatism this morning, and can't come to-night to help you. She thinks, perhaps, you can get Mrs. Mosher." " Your grandmother can't come, when I depended so much upon her ; and she thinks I can get Mrs. Mosher, that termagant, who would raise a mutiny in the kitchen in an hour!" Mrs. Tracy said, so sharply that a flush mounted to the handsome face of the boy, who felt as if he were in some way a culprit and being reprimanded. " She must come, if she does nothing but sit in the kitchen and keep order," was Mrs. Tracy's next remark. " She can't," Harold replied ; "her foot and ankle is all swelled, and aches so she almost cries. She is awful sorry, and so am I, for I was coming with her to see the show." This put a new idea into Mrs. Tracy's mind, and she said to the boy : " How would you like to come any way, and stay in the upper hall, and tell the people where to go ? The boy I AT THE PARK. 85 engaged has disappointed me. You are rather small for the place, but I guess you'll do, and I will give you fifty cents." " I'd like it first-rate," Harold said, his face brighten ing at the thought of earning fifty cents and seeing the show at the same time. Half-dollars were not very plentiful with Harold, and he was trying to save enough to buy his grandmother a pair of spectacles, for he had heard her say that she could not thread her needle as readily as she once did, and must have glasses as soon as she had the money to spare. Har- old had seen a pair at the drug-store for one dollar, and without knowing at all whether they would fit his grand- mother's eyes or not, hud asked the druggist to keep them until he had the required amount. Fifty cents would just make it, and he promised at once that he would come ; but in an instant there fell a shadow upon his face as he thought of Tom, his tormentor, who worried him so much. "What is it?" Mrs. Tracy asked, as she detected in him a disposition to reconsider. " Will Tom be up in the hall ?" Harold asked. " Of course not," Mrs. Tracy replied. " He will be in the parlors until ten o'clock, and then he will go to bed. Why do you a