Coining Home from School. Page 37.
 
 THE 
 
 SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 ANNETTE LUCILE NOBLE, 
 AUTHOR OF "THE PROFESSOR'S GIRLS," KTC. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA : 
 
 PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION 
 AND SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK, 
 
 No. 1319 WALNUT STREET. 
 1898.
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1888, BY 
 
 THE TRUSTEES OF THE 
 
 PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION 
 AND SABBATH-SCHOOL WORK. 
 
 ALL SIGHTS RESERVED. 
 
 WESTCOTT A THOMSON, 
 Stereotypers and Electrotypers, Philada,
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE story of THE SILENT MAN 's LEGACY 
 is in no dependent sense a sequel to The 
 Professor's Girls, but readers who have been 
 interested in the latter book will find in this 
 many of the same characters. 
 
 A. L. N. 
 
 3 
 
 20;
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 THE PROFESSOR'S HOME . 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 SCHOOL REVISITED 27 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 A BLOW AND A LETTER 44 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 VARIOUS TOPICS 81 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 ABBY'S LETTER 115 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AT COUSIN RAYNOR'S 120 
 
 5
 
 6 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 BAD NEWS FOB MADGE 139 
 
 CHAPTER VHL 
 
 I* VANITY FAIR 156 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 GRANDMA'S BIRTHDAY 172 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 TIDINGS FROM COLORADO 196 
 
 CHAPTEE XL 
 THE MASCOT'S EETURN 219 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 THE LEGACY 233 
 
 CHAPTEE XILL 
 MADGE OPENS HER HEART 250 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 ABBY FINDS HER ORPHAN 272 
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 GRANDMA GREY'S EEMINISCENCES 285
 
 CONTENTS. 7 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE PICNIC 304 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 RUTH'S ADVENTURE 330 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 MRS. PRESTON RECEIVES A SHOCK 345 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 "BLESSED ARE THE PURE IN HEART" 355 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 RUTH. . 367
 
 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE PROFESSOR'S HOME. 
 " A man's fortune may grow out at heels." SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 PROFESSOR PRESTON was on his 
 
 J- way home from the daily round of 
 academy duties. It was a warm, sunshiny, 
 fragrant afternoon in May. The long ave- 
 nue of horse-chestnut trees was wondrously 
 beautiful, for each tree was loaded with 
 masses of white blossoms. Usually the Pro- 
 fessor enjoyed such sights, but this day he 
 never noticed his surroundings until he 
 reached the pretty park midway between the 
 school and his home. There he turned aside 
 to a quiet, shaded corner where by a tiny, 
 pattering fountain was a seat seldom occupied 
 save by the Professor himself. He seated
 
 10 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 himself and fell into so profound a medita- 
 tion that two pugnacious sparrows fought 
 unnoticed at his feet and almost chose his 
 dusty boot as their battle-ground. A gentle 
 little lady approached, and only aroused 
 him by her exclamation : 
 
 " I suspected I would find you here. I 
 was on my way home from a call when I 
 saw the schoolgirls were in the streets, and 
 knew you had started toward home, at least." 
 
 " Yes, dear," returned the Professor, his 
 grave face brightening a little as he made a 
 place at his side for the lady. " Can't you 
 sit here a little while and talk over matters ? 
 There will not be much chance when Ruth 
 and Madge are home again. I do not like 
 to worry Ruth, she takes everybody's trou- 
 bles so to heart." 
 
 "Has anything new happened?" asked 
 Mrs. Preston, anxiously. 
 
 " No, but I question how long things can 
 go on with me at the academy as they are 
 now going. I am seriously disappointed with 
 the trustees, and they are getting out of pa- 
 tience with me." 
 
 " It is grossly unjust, Philip," she ex-
 
 THE PROFESSOR'S HOME. 11 
 
 claimed, with unwonted heat. "You have 
 given your best energies to that work, and 
 have met with no return in appreciation, and 
 only a meagre salary that you have earned 
 five times over." 
 
 " I am getting old and rusty, it may be." 
 He smiled sadly. 
 
 " Nonsense ! You know it is they who 
 are old-fogyish. They want no new systems, 
 no innovations, but want to jog along with 
 books that were discarded by all progressive 
 teachers years ago." 
 
 " Yes, the old building itself is so dilapi- 
 dated, so poorly ventilated and lighted, that 
 I know more persons than one have suffered 
 in consequence. That is bad enough, but 
 that which sits heaviest on my conscience is 
 the actual fraud as I consider it in regard 
 to the educational advantages, or rather dis- 
 advantages. People are sending their sons 
 and their daughters to that academy in the 
 belief that for money paid a fair equivalent 
 is to be received if the pupils do their best. 
 This is not true. There is a score of cheaper 
 schools within a circle of fifty miles where 
 the advantages are beyond comparison bet-
 
 12 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 ter. I do my best, but I am crippled hand 
 and foot. Miss Elder is becoming really 
 demoralized, and the other teachers are in- 
 capable of any higher standard, morally or 
 intellectually, than that which satisfies the 
 trustees. I would resign in a moment if 
 I " There was no need of his finishing 
 the sentence: that mean salary which the 
 Professor drew quarterly was all that kept 
 the wolf from the door of the old yellow 
 house on the hill. 
 
 For once Mrs. Preston could think of no 
 encouraging word that had not lost all force 
 by frequent repetition at least, anything 
 she could say about school matters ; but, 
 bad as they were, she suddenly appre- 
 hended that it would be far worse for all 
 concerned if the Professor were to be de- 
 posed from his position as principal. After 
 a little silence she exclaimed, 
 
 " Well, there is only one more month of 
 school before the summer vacation, and 
 possibly the trustees may conclude to take 
 your advice and make the improvements." 
 
 The Professor opened his lips to impart a 
 bit of information calculated to dishearten
 
 THE PROFESSOR'S HOME. 13 
 
 her more than anything already said ; then, 
 restraining himself, he only remarked, more 
 cheerfully, as she fancied, 
 
 " Yes ; we will not borrow trouble. If I 
 were a younger man, I would try to secure a 
 new position elsewhere before fall." 
 
 " Then you would have to resign the old 
 one at the end of this term. That would 
 be too precarious a step," she returned, anx- 
 iously. 
 
 " Of course I shall not do it. Half a loaf 
 is bread." 
 
 "We must not get down-hearted. Mrs. 
 Allen writes me that Madge is doing so 
 well in all her studies that next year she 
 will engage her to teach the younger pupils 
 and pay her three hundred a year, increas- 
 ing the salary as she gains experience. She 
 says, too, that if we can spare Ruth she will 
 engage her also; but I think we want one 
 of our girls at home." 
 
 "Let me see: they will be here now in 
 three weeks, will they not ? No man ought 
 to feel poor with such daughters;" and at 
 the mere thought of merry, handsome Madge 
 and fair Kuth, with her earnest eyes, his
 
 14 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 face brightened, and he started homeward 
 shaking off something of his despondency. 
 
 Mrs. Preston tried to forget how warm 
 and worn was her winter dress, how fresh 
 and attractive were the spring suits of the 
 ladies who met and passed them with friend- 
 ly greetings ; she tried to enjoy the beauty 
 of the new verdure, the flowering fruit trees, 
 the song, the perfume and the sunlight all 
 about her. As they approached the old 
 yellow house she thought, " I ought to be 
 the happiest woman in the village. There 
 never was a skeleton in any closet under 
 that roof never!" 
 
 The Preston household at this time con- 
 sisted of the Professor and his wife ; Grand- 
 mother Grey, serene, light-hearted and beau- 
 tiful in her old age ; Johnny, a big blunder- 
 ing chap of thirteen, over whom the Profess- 
 or sighed frequently, noting the discrepancy 
 between the capacity of his brain and his 
 stomach; Uncle Henry Preston, the silent 
 bachelor, of late failing in health; and 
 Abby, the well-beloved factotum. 
 
 "Abby," said Mrs. Preston, going into the 
 spotless domain where the spinster presided,
 
 THE PROFESSOR'S HOME. 15 
 
 "you may make coffee instead of tea to- 
 night; Mr. Preston feels a little over-tired, 
 and coffee will refresh him more than tea 
 would do." 
 
 " He's worryin' about them 'cademy per- 
 formances, he is," returned Abby, bluntly. 
 " Ministers and teachers always do just fret 
 the life out of them over stupid folks' souls 
 and brains, whereas I've noticed that when 
 a man's business has to do with bodies he is 
 sure to get fat and hearty. Old Dr. Hickox 
 is jolly from dawn till dark, and the butcher 
 around the corner is like a porker. Med- 
 dling with consciences and brains and books 
 never would be my choice of a profession." 
 
 " But my husband would not make a 
 very good butcher, Abby," laughed Mrs. 
 Preston. 
 
 " No ! Mercy, no ! He'd ought to have 
 been rich; he'd have adorned a fortune, 
 and so would you. I guess I'll broil him a 
 bit of ham." 
 
 " Yes, do. Has any one been here while 
 1 was gone ?" 
 
 " Not a creeter, but all the same I have 
 heard something that will surprise you.
 
 16 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 What do you think Uncle Henry is going 
 to do?" 
 
 " Let the doctor take him under his care ? 
 I am really worried about him ; he eats 
 nothing to speak of, and looks more ill every 
 day." 
 
 "Well, he ain't going to do that, but 
 something queerer. Now that he has stayed 
 here steady-like for 'most four years, I never 
 expected he would pull up his stakes again 
 and go roaming like a Bedowing A-rab. 
 He's going to, though. He asked me would 
 I give him his shirts out of the wash rough- 
 dry to night, because he was going to Colo- 
 rado to-morrow." 
 
 Mrs. Preston looked every whit as sur- 
 prised as Abby supposed she would look 
 after this announcement. 
 
 " You don't suppose he is crazy, do you, 
 Mis' Preston ?" 
 
 " Of course not, Abby ; he has always come 
 and gone suddenly. Probably he thinks his 
 health will be improved by a change." 
 
 " Oh, 'tain't just the journey, but he has 
 talked lately. He spoke twice of his own 
 accord last evening to me, and once the day
 
 THE PROFESSOR'S HOME. 17 
 
 before, and since about March he has said 
 at least a dozen sentences, mostly grumbling. 
 He says the house is getting to be an old 
 rattle-trap and wants money spent on new 
 doorsteps, weatherstrips and shingles on the 
 roof, and, that done, it had better be burned 
 down and rebuilt. Yes, maybe his health is 
 a-taking him away, but he has lost some 
 money in a mine out there ; he said so one 
 night after reading a letter. I reckon the 
 old bachelor hasn't got only about enough 
 to keep him." 
 
 " Not much more, I am sure," replied Mrs. 
 Preston, her spirits falling lower than before 
 at this new developement. Uncle Henry 
 paid his board at a very low rate, to be sure, 
 but the small amount was a considerable 
 item in the domestic finances. Had he been 
 quite penniless, he would have met with care 
 and kindness in his own brother's house, 
 but, having a little income, Mrs. Preston 
 had been glad that he chose to stay with 
 them. A faint hope stirred in her for a mo- 
 ment, and then, half ashamed, she suppressed 
 it a hope that at his departure he might do 
 as he had sometimes done upon occasions of 
 2
 
 18 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 a similar nature : leave behind him a little 
 gift. 
 
 Abby bustled about with cheerful alacrity, 
 grinding coffee and broiling ham, while her 
 mistress set the table herself to expedite 
 matters, reflecting as she did it: 
 
 " He is quite right : everything is getting 
 old and worn out. This carpet is almost 
 threadbare, and how the curtains are faded ! 
 But the sunset light fills the room and moth- 
 er's rugs cover the worst spots in the carpet. 
 I will not distrust the care of God ; all these 
 little possibilities of trouble may come to 
 nothing." 
 
 Soon the tea-bell rang, and the family 
 gathered around the board, ready, as usual, 
 to talk only of the pleasant topics of that 
 day's doing or seeing. Grandma had been 
 to a missionary meeting, and after hearing 
 the story of the privations endured by 
 Christians in foreign lands felt as if she had 
 lived all her life in luxury. Uncle Henry 
 ate his toast in perfect silence. Just before 
 the meal ended Mrs. Preston ventured to say 
 to him, 
 
 " Henry, Abby tells me you are going to
 
 THE PROFESSOR'S HOME. 19 
 
 leave us. Are you strong enough to stand 
 such a long journey?" 
 
 " Yes ; it is necessary." 
 
 Grandma was the only one who said 
 much after that reply, given in a slightly- 
 impatient tone. She assumed that his liver 
 was out of order, and dared to advise him 
 what to do and what not to do, as if he were 
 likely to put her ideas in practice. 
 
 " Oh, mother," exclaimed Johnny, stop- 
 ping a biscuit on its way to his mouth, " there 
 is a letter from the girls in the other room ; 
 I got it just before supper, but forgot to tell 
 you." 
 
 " I am sorry to have you go before the 
 girls get home, Henry. They will be here 
 in three weeks," said the Professor. 
 
 His brother lifted his eyes with a faint 
 show of interest, and nodded ; then the 
 chairs were pushed back, and all but Uncle 
 Henry hastened to the parlor to hear the 
 letter. The first pages were from Madge, 
 the last from Ruth : 
 
 " DEAK, DEARER, DEAREST PRESTONITES : 
 Do you realize that if all goes well you will
 
 20 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 see Ruth's beaming countenance and mine 
 (mine first, if, as usual, I tumble out of the 
 train into somebody's arms) in three weeks 
 one day and five hours ? We are coming, 
 too, with such neat little diplomas tied with 
 white satin ribbons, certifying that we are 
 learned to the last degree, absolutely fault- 
 less in deportment and capable of covering 
 ourselves and all our relatives with glory if 
 we happen to get an opportunity. I write 
 this beforehand, for I have a lingering fear 
 that you will fail in proper reverence for 
 me, because, of course, there are a few lit- 
 tle idiosyncrasies which I may still retain. 
 Ruth says I am too poor to risk paying dou- 
 ble postage on long words, so I will let you 
 find out my perfections later. Ruth is just 
 as well as I am ; her cheeks are so pink 
 that the girls call her ' Sweet-pea Blossom.' 
 " Mother, you need not worry one bit over 
 our graduation-dresses; Ruth has evolved 
 them out of next to nothing. Of course, 
 when I saw the other girls' lovely white 
 cashmeres and surah satins, I began to turn 
 green with envy and knew we could get 
 nothing fit to wear. But Ruth quietly took
 
 THE PROFESSOR'? HOME. 21 
 
 those white mulls we have worn for three 
 years ; had a French laundress do them up 
 like new (after Ruth had altered and mod- 
 ernized) ; then she trimmed them with some 
 nice lace Cousin Jane gave her when she 
 was in Europe, and, as you would say, 
 mother, they are 'altogether suitable' for 
 our circumstances. 
 
 " By the way, there is a funny old woman 
 who sells vegetables here, and she told Mrs. 
 Allen that once she ' enjoyed good circum- 
 stances, but she lost them.' Don't you wish 
 we could lose our circumstances and find a 
 great deal better ones ? I am not complain- 
 ing about myself, but father ought to be 
 appreciated. Mrs. Allen says it is too bad 
 that a man of his intellect should not have 
 a college professorship at least. Now I will 
 stop, for I am distressing grandma by such 
 unthankfulness. 
 
 " Do you think that you could bring your- 
 self to spare me for the last two weeks in 
 June? I had a letter from Cousin Jane 
 Kaynor yesterday, and she said that her 
 husband was going West on business would 
 stop over-night at our house on his return
 
 22 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 and be happy to have me go on to New 
 York with him and make a little visit 
 before they leave the city for the summer. 
 Bert will be home, and she says their new 
 house up town is delightful. I would not 
 ask to go if she had not intimated that she 
 should see I had no trouble about expenses 
 and added that Mr. Raynor had passes over 
 the railroad. You know I never even saw 
 a great city, and feel so ignorant and green. 
 
 " Mrs. Allen sends a most cordial invita- 
 tion to you and father to come here for the 
 closing exercises of the school. I suppose 
 father can't come, for the academy term will 
 not be out, but we do wish mother would 
 come. Millbridge is a beautiful old town ; I 
 want you to see it. And then Mrs. Allen 
 would enjoy so much a visit with one who 
 she says was always her ideal of a perfect 
 lady meaning you, Mother Preston! 
 
 " Dear me ! I was only getting ready to 
 put something interesting in my letter, and 
 here is Ruth waiting to finish it. .Tell 
 Abby I have dreamed three times of her 
 lately a sweet dream of maple syrup and 
 delicious waffles, Abby hovering over like
 
 THE PROFESSOR* S HOME. 23 
 
 an attendant spirit, Johnny and I, open- 
 mouthed, sitting in the near horizon. Yes, 
 yes, Ruth ! I was going to end with a moral 
 reflection, but she will not give me another 
 minute." 
 
 " Dear mother," began Ruth, in a much 
 neater chirography than Madge had em- 
 ployed, " do you not think it is possible for 
 father to have some one take his place in 
 the academy, so that he can come with you 
 to Millbridge when we graduate? for it is 
 quite decided that you are to come. This 
 little money-order you will find in the let- 
 ter pays your fare, so you have no excuse. 
 And don't you worry for fear we stole it or 
 went without something you would want us 
 to have. Lest you do, I will tell you about 
 it. One of the girls here admires to 'dis- 
 traction,' as she says, that lace I learned 
 to knit when in Germany. I tried to teach 
 her how to do it herself, but her fingers are 
 all thumbs. She has plenty of spending- 
 money, and offered to pay me for making 
 her a dozen yards. I was so glad in that way 
 to get this money for your expenses here ! 
 And Madge earned it just as much, because,
 
 24 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 to give me the spare time, she did my room- 
 work and mended my clothes even my 
 stockings. Is not the last a proof that she 
 has 'matured' wonderfully, as Mrs. Allen 
 lately declared ? I hope you will think she 
 can go to New York ; she would enjoy it all 
 so very much. 
 
 " And now, mother, will you think of 
 something and give me an answer when you 
 come to Millbridge ? Do you remember 
 hearing Madge talk a great deal about her 
 first room-mate, Loraine Faye? She was 
 graduated two years ago, but returned as a 
 sort of parlor-boarder. She has no home. 
 Mrs. Allen says that her father was a man 
 of brilliant intellect and great wealth, but he 
 disgraced himself politically, became insane 
 and committed suicide. Loraine's guardians 
 embezzled a great part of her property, and 
 her stepmother cast her off because she could 
 not get possession of the remainder. Lo- 
 raine herself I am sure you would like. She 
 is almost three years older than I am, but 
 from the first she seemed to choose me to 
 talk and walk and be with. She is very 
 fond of Madge, but always declares that you
 
 THE PROFESSOR'S HOME. 25 
 
 all at borne labor under a mistake in think- 
 ing Madge older tban I am. In fact, we 
 have given up trying to convince people of 
 tbe truth, and without protest I let them 
 tell me about my 'younger' sister. 
 
 "But I was going to tell you about Loraine. 
 One night she said she would be so happy 
 if she could be a little while in a real home ; 
 her mother died when she was six years old. 
 While we were talking I wished that I was 
 able to invite her to come and spend a sum- 
 mer with us, but I knew that company for 
 so long would increase the family expenses 
 and was not to be thought of for a minute. 
 Yesterday, Loraine told me that she always 
 boarded at the seaside or in the mountains 
 every summer, and she asked me if we could 
 be persuaded this summer to let her come 
 and board with us. She is a real lady, 
 mother, even according to your standard, 
 which the longer I live the higher I find. 
 She is one of the most conscientious girls 
 in the school, but she does not call herself a 
 Christian. She shows respect to every one's 
 religion and is absolutely silent about her 
 own belief and experience. For all that,
 
 26 THE SILENT MAN'S LEG ACT 
 
 Mrs. Allen told me that no girl in the school 
 ever had a better influence over the others 
 than Loraine Faye, because she so hated 
 hypocrisy and inconsistency. She always 
 expects people to be true to their professions, 
 and before her they are ashamed not to be 
 so. Now, mother, could we not let Loraine 
 come in the way she proposes? Think it all 
 over though, of course, if it will increase 
 your cares in any way or be an inconveni- 
 ence, don't hesitate to say ' No/ and Loraine 
 will understand. 
 
 "Now good-bye, every one of you, dear 
 home-folks. It does seem as if we could 
 not wait three weeks before seeing you all." 
 " Affectionately your girls, 
 
 "MADGE AND RUTH."
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 SCHOOL REVISITED. 
 
 " Choose for us, God, not let our weak preferring 
 
 Cheat our poor souls of good thou hast designed ; 
 Choose for us, God : thy wisdom is unerring, 
 And we are fools and blind." 
 
 " TJURRY, Ruth ! Oh, do hurry I" ex- 
 -tl claimed Madge Preston. "What if 
 the train should get in and we not meet 
 mother ?" 
 
 " I am coming. But, Madge, I have of- 
 ten noticed that the three-o'clock train does 
 not come at half-past two," laughed Ruth, 
 coming out to the great porch to button her 
 gloves. 
 
 All over the pillars ran pink and white 
 roses in luxuriant bloom ; great trees shaded 
 the lawn, where the close-cut grass was like 
 soft green moss. Within the roomy man- 
 sion all was youthful life and happiness. 
 Girls were singing anniversary carols ; girls 
 
 27
 
 28 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 were playing nine different tunes on nine 
 different pianos; girls were laughing, talk- 
 ing, studying and running up and down 
 stairs ; and in every girl's heart were 
 thoughts of home and friends. 
 
 Loraine Faye, coming suddenly on the 
 sisters as they stood there together, said 
 playfully, 
 
 "Don't quite devour her at the station, 
 but leave a bit for me to look at, because I 
 never half believed in that perfect mother." 
 
 " That was because you judged her from 
 two imperfect copies," returned Madge. 
 " Wait until you see the original." 
 
 " Does either one of you resemble her ?" 
 asked Loraine, looking at the lovely girls, 
 who certainly could never be copies of the 
 same model. 
 
 Madge was all roundness and graceful 
 curves, with a dark, clear skin and glowing 
 cheeks. Her big, soft eyes talked for her if 
 ever her busy little tongue grew weary, which 
 seldom happened. There were strength and 
 elasticity in Ruth's tall, slight figure, though 
 she kept a fragile, almost spiritual, air, so 
 delicate was her flower-like face, so filmy the
 
 SCHOOL REVISITED. 29 
 
 pale-golden hair that caught every sunbeam 
 in its meshes. 
 
 " Oh, you shall see our mother for your- 
 self in just one half hour," called back 
 Ruth, running lightly after Madge down 
 the broad gravel-walk. 
 
 " I don't think I ever was young in the 
 way those two girls are," reflected Loraine, 
 watching them along the quiet street. " I 
 was contented and trustful of people in those 
 days when father let me have my fairy-tales 
 on the desk by his papers, but the house was 
 so grand and empty ! I never ran and 
 shouted like other children. Then he mar- 
 ried, and she made me wretched enough un- 
 til I learned, when father died, what it was 
 to be all alone in the world. I was getting 
 to lean a little on father's friend, to think he 
 had my real interest at heart, when he be- 
 trayed his trust so shamefully. If he had 
 only lost the money in any honest transac- 
 tions, I should not have blamed him ; but 
 he schemed so cunningly to outwit a mere 
 girl ! There are good people in the world 
 Mrs. Allen is good ; these Prestons must be 
 but is it not because actual temptations never
 
 SO THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 touch them, because their lives are shut away 
 from the real world? Father lived out 
 among strong men, where great political, 
 moral and intellectual questions were de- 
 bated and settled one way or another. His 
 wife delights to call herself a 'queen of 
 society ; ' she used to tell me she knew the 
 world as I knew my primer. Yet neither 
 father nor his wife believed in sincerity or 
 in disinterested goodness or in any gratitude 
 beyond the ' lively sense of favors to come.' 
 I wonder if they missed something better 
 in life that would have made it seem worthi- 
 er to them ? I don't want to grow bitter or 
 misanthropic ; I would like to approach peo- 
 ple and things in the mood Ruth Preston 
 meets them. Ruth is a real little gospel to 
 me. What am I going to do with my life, 
 any way ? I don't need to be a teacher, and 
 I don't want to be one, but I can't very well 
 come back here as a scholar. Girls like me 
 usually think that they have a 'mission;' I 
 seem to have no enthusiasms for humanity, 
 art or science, but it is dreadful to get where 
 nothing seems worth while." 
 
 "Are you tired, Loraine?" asked Mrs.
 
 SCHOOL REVISITED. 31 
 
 Allen, pausing on her way past the hail 
 door. 
 
 Loraine looked less erect and strong than 
 usual ; her clear eyes were too sad for such 
 a day of sunshine and roses : 
 
 " No, thank you, Mrs. Allen, only a little 
 blue to think I am getting too old to stay 
 here much longer under your wing." 
 
 " Well, dear, I promise you not to push 
 you suddenly out of the nest as the hard- 
 hearted old birds push their brood. What 
 plans have you for the summer? If you 
 will be happy, I wish you would stay here 
 with me a few weeks after the school closes." 
 
 " I would be very glad to do that, Mrs. 
 Allen. I have no plans beyond a hope that 
 I can go and board a while in the Preston 
 family ; the girls are to ask their mother 
 if I may." 
 
 "That is good, Loraine," said the lady. 
 " I am thinking so much of meeting Mrs. 
 Preston again after twenty-five years !" 
 
 In about half an hour Ruth and Madge 
 returned triumphant, both grasping their 
 mother's hands as if they feared she would 
 escape them and vanish, though with flushed
 
 32 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 cheeks and bright eyes she yielded to their 
 incessant demands to "see this" or to "coine 
 here." She must see the pretty room where 
 so many hours had been spent in study, 
 rest and social intercourse; she must go 
 over the fine old mansion ; she must see the 
 roses and lilies in the garden ; she must tell 
 them all about home. Then at tea-time it 
 was delightful to meet Mrs. Allen in her 
 own cozy parlor and to have pleasant con- 
 versation together around a little table where 
 they were her guests. 
 
 The girls restrained their desire to talk, 
 and listened while the reunited friends re- 
 called scenes long passed. How strange it 
 seemed, and a little mournful, to be hearing 
 of this girl " who was so lovely " and now 
 dead ; that one " we considered so brilliant " 
 living an obscure burdened life; another, 
 with ten children ; this one, a missionary ; 
 that one, a famous writer ! 
 
 " I suppose some day we may meet Lo- 
 raine and talk in this way," whispered 
 Madge to Ruth. 
 
 "Then I hope we will be as sweet and 
 pretty as mother is, and I often fancy Lo-
 
 SCHOOL REVISITED. 33 
 
 raine may grow somewhat like Mrs. Allen," 
 answered Ruth. 
 
 That night, before the girls slept, Mrs. 
 Preston, who had seen and liked Loraine, 
 gave her consent to the proposed plan, only 
 saying, 
 
 "Be sure, girls, that you let her know 
 just how simply we live, or she may be dis- 
 appointed." 
 
 " She knows it all, mother. Once I was 
 too proud to have the rich girls know that 
 we were merely merely " 
 
 "Poor but respectable," laughed Ruth 
 when Madge hesitated ; adding in a minute, 
 " Loraine will stay a week or two here with 
 Mrs. Allen before she comes to us." 
 
 "That will give us a little while alone 
 together as a family before Madge goes to 
 New York," said Mrs. Preston, answering 
 the unspoken question she had seen in 
 Madge's eyes. 
 
 "Oh, am I going?" she cried, clasping 
 her hands in ecstasy. " Now I shall see the 
 world." 
 
 "Not all of it, I hope only a bright 
 innocent corner. There is much world-
 
 34 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 knowledge that I want you never to get. 
 But I must go to bed now if I am to hear 
 those remarkable graduation essays read to- 
 morrow." 
 
 The record of the morrow would seem 
 like a leaf out of the experience of two- 
 thirds of the young girls who read this 
 story. They will recall a dear old school- 
 room wearing its sunniest aspect; June 
 flowers and rosy-cheeked girls in white ; 
 fluttering hearts and tremulous voices read- 
 ing laboriously-wrought-out compositions that 
 sounded so elegant, so wise, so much more 
 " finished " than anything one ever sees in 
 print. 
 
 The public exercises ended, there were 
 the affectionate partings on the stairs and in 
 the corridors, promises to write regularly 
 and "never, never forget" one another. It 
 is not foolish, but all very sincere, even if 
 Mary, who " never expects to find such a 
 friend hereafter as Sarah," will ten years 
 after wonder if she " remembers just who 
 Sarah was " when by chance she hears the 
 latter has gone to New Zealand. If Mrs. 
 Preston did playfully suggest to Madge that
 
 SCHOOL REVISITED. 35 
 
 she should write names on the backs of the 
 one hundred and four photographs in her 
 collection, she said, 
 
 " Mrs. Allen thinks Loraine and Ruth 
 will be a great deal to each other in the way 
 of help. Loraine has the stronger intellect, 
 and Ruth the more insight and faith in the 
 spiritualities." 
 
 " Ruth was always good," said Madge, 
 with a little sigh. 
 
 "And Madge, who long, long ago was 
 capable of being naughty, is the best Madge 
 for her mother that that mother could ask 
 when she tries to be good," laughed Mrs. 
 Preston, smoothing the brown hair which 
 the young girl had tumbled in her vigor- 
 ous trunk-packing. 
 
 "I love Millbridge, apart from the semi- 
 nary," said Madge, emptying the contents 
 of a drawer upon the floor. " I wish we 
 lived here. There are beautiful old streets 
 that run through the town and out to the 
 river ; the walks and the drives around are 
 very picturesque, and Mrs. Allen says the 
 society is far more refined and intellectual 
 than in other places of the same size. Fa-
 
 36 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 tlier ought to have settled in a better town 
 than ours." 
 
 " We had no choice, dear." 
 
 " But he is not contented." 
 
 " He is not unhappy, but he is dissatisfied 
 with matters in the school. You must be very 
 prudent, however, about saying anything to 
 make his position insecure. We have no in- 
 come whatever beyond his salary ; to cut 
 off that would be to leave us penniless." 
 
 " But father ought to be on the lookout 
 for a position elsewhere, that such an emer- 
 gency should not surprise him." 
 
 "Don't you suppose we reflect on that?" 
 returned her mother, smiling, though her 
 tone was anxious. 
 
 " I will leave my pictures and knickknacks 
 in the room here, for Mrs. Allen said I 
 might keep this same room when I come 
 back as ' Miss Preston, assistant teacher.' " 
 
 Mrs. Preston made a little obeisance of 
 mock-respect, and then they fell to talking of 
 some changes that would be made in conse- 
 quence of Loraine's coming among them. 
 
 Ruth's small trunk was already packed, 
 and about the middle of the afternoon of
 
 SCHOOL REVISITED. 37 
 
 the day succeeding the anniversary exercises 
 Mrs. Preston and the girls left the seminary. 
 They had lingered until almost all the pupils 
 with their friends had gone in order to enjoy 
 more time with Mrs. Allen ; but when once 
 their faces were turned homeward, Madge 
 declared that her mother acted as if she had 
 been away weeks instead of three days. 
 
 The Professor and Johnny were waiting 
 on the platform when the train arrived ; and 
 if the future " assistant teacher " tried to re- 
 strain her fervent greeting within the bounds 
 of calm decorum, she yet showed her great 
 delight. Johnny only waited his turn to 
 hug her like a vigorous bear, while Ruth, 
 holding fast her father's hand, started up 
 the hill, and Mrs. Preston made them all 
 laugh by saying, 
 
 " Everything looks just as natural as 
 ever." 
 
 " Abby has got you up a regular wedding- 
 feast, bride's loaf and all," explained Johnny, 
 seizing their handbags. " What is more, she 
 has wrapped her stately form in a brand-new 
 blood-red banner." 
 
 " Be quiet, Johnny ! I need not warn you
 
 38 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 not to laugh, girls, but Abby has made her- 
 self a Turkey-red dress. It is not very be- 
 coming, but she likes it, and Well, grand- 
 ma says ' it is rather cheerful-looking on a 
 cold day.'" 
 
 "And Fourth of July will soon be past," 
 persisted Johnny, striding ahead and soon 
 proclaiming, " If there isn't grandma com- 
 ing to meet us !" 
 
 What a happy, proud old lady grandma 
 was, going back on the Professor's arm after 
 she had bestowed the most unbounded ad- 
 miration on her two granddaughters, who 
 were not in the least danger of becoming 
 vain in consequence of knowing that she 
 considered them good, beautiful and learned 
 beyond ordinary mortals! Ruth used to 
 say Grandma Grey's spectacles grew rose- 
 colored when she looked at a Preston. 
 
 Aftar supper all gathered in the warm 
 moonlight on the dining-room porch, that 
 Abby might enjoy the girls' stories of 
 their school-life as she finished her day's 
 work Abby, who had bent over their cra- 
 dles and ministered to their comfort all their 
 lives and more than half her own.
 
 SCHOOL REVISITED. 39 
 
 " What do you hear from Uncle Henry ?" 
 asked Ruth. " It seems queer not to see 
 him poring over his newspaper." 
 
 " He has not written us yet, but he will 
 not write unless he has something that he 
 considers worth communicating." 
 
 " Did he not leave any message for us ?" 
 asked Ruth. 
 
 " No, and he did not really bid one of us 
 good-bye; but, for all that, I never felt so 
 sure that he loves us as I did feel that morn- 
 ing he went away," answered her mother. 
 "As he picked up his valise he looked 
 back on us from the door with a peculiar 
 expression, and I saw tears in his eyes." 
 
 " Father, did he never talk when he was 
 young?" exclaimed Madge. 
 
 " He was always thoughtful and reserved ; 
 but when he was a young man he went 
 from all his friends, and was in California 
 during the gold-excitement. He made quite 
 a fortune, and lost it, but, over and above 
 that, he had some trouble that we never un- 
 derstood. It disheartened him and set him 
 apart from the world." 
 
 Ruth was wondering what sort of trouble
 
 40 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 it could have been, when Madge began to 
 ask questions about people and things in 
 the village ; and so the evening passed, and 
 every one was surprised when the clock 
 struck ten. It was the signal for the Profes- 
 sor to turn up the lamp, take the worn 
 Bible and read the evening chapter. Al- 
 though many disquieting thoughts were in 
 the father's heart, it was with very sincere 
 thankfulness that he chose the psalm : 
 " Bless the Lord, O my soul ; and all that 
 is within me, bless his holy name." The 
 return of his two children healthy, joyous 
 and eager to make their parents glad and 
 their home happier for their coming made 
 him feel that God was very good. His 
 faith grew stronger for the days to come. 
 
 The morning after the girls' return Madge 
 said, 
 
 " Do you not suppose, Kuth, that we can 
 earn enough, before we have taught a very 
 great while, to make things about the house 
 look better? I never realized how worn 
 out everything has grown ; every room 
 needs painting, papering and refurnishing.
 
 SCHOOL REVISITED. 41 
 
 Mother keeps everything exquisitely neat 
 and cheerful, but how threadbare all will 
 seem to Loraine ! Her chamber at Mrs. Al- 
 len's is finer, with its curtains and pictures, 
 than our parlor." 
 
 "Yes, of course, but that need not give 
 us any trouble while we cannot help our- 
 selves. Just as soon as we can we will do 
 our best to beautify the place. Don't let 
 mother see that we think the house in any 
 way shabby." 
 
 " I will try not to. But how faded the 
 carpets are ! The pattern has gone entirely." 
 
 "All the better. The huge blue roses 
 were ugly ; now the dull tint is quite aes- 
 thetic." 
 
 " Have you made a vow never to grumble, 
 Ruth?" 
 
 " No, but I will tell you why I do not 
 feel so much inclined to worry over the 
 contents of this old house as I otherwise 
 might. Before that summer three years ago 
 when I went abroad with Cousin Jane, I 
 used to think that elegant surroundings and 
 rich dresses would make me happier than I 
 could be without them."
 
 42 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 "And so they would," put in Madge 
 stoutly. 
 
 " I am not sure of that, for you know I 
 was often with the Merritts who had every- 
 thing money could buy and not one of them 
 was contented. Mabel used to say she was 
 tired of everything and everybody." 
 
 " That was because her father and mother 
 were ignorant, common sort of people and 
 Mabel had no 'mental resources/ as Mrs. 
 Allen would say." 
 
 " Well, take Loraine Faye herself for an 
 example. She has a better intellect than 
 either you or I have, and the utmost refine- 
 ment ; she has been very rich, and has now 
 enough to gratify almost all her wishes ; 
 but Loraine is not so happy as we are." 
 
 " Why is she not ? That does puzzle 
 me." 
 
 "I think one reason is that a Christian 
 father and mother very early taught us 
 what to believe and all along made us 
 believe what we had been taught. We 
 know we can trust them, and where they 
 are the place will be pleasant if there are 
 no carpets at all."
 
 SCHOOL REVISITED. 43 
 
 " Good for you ! I will not grumble one 
 bit more ; I don't want to do it now, when I 
 see the sun streaming in and catch that faint 
 delicious odor of Abby's breakfast-cakes. 
 How that girl knows every weak spot in 
 our appetites, Ruth !" 
 
 "'Weak'!" laughed Ruth. "She never 
 would apply that adjective to any appetites 
 that we ever possessed. There goes the 
 bell."
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A BLOW AND A LETTER. 
 
 " All is of God that is and is to be, 
 And God is good. Let this suffice us still, 
 Resting in childlike trust upon His will 
 Who moves to his great ends unthwarted by the ill." 
 
 WHITTIER. 
 
 IN the academy of which Professor Pres- 
 ton was principal was a girls' department, 
 at the head of which was a certain Miss 
 Elder. If she had been as true-hearted as 
 she was clear-headed, she might have been 
 an estimable character. She saw plainly the 
 mismanagement of the trustees and despised 
 them for their incapacity and niggardly 
 measures, but so long as she was not de- 
 frauded of her salary she cared little for her 
 scholars. It had irritated her exceedingly 
 when the Preston girls were removed from 
 her care and sent to Millbridge. The Pro- 
 fessor, perceiving this fact, took pains to tell
 
 A BLOW AND A LETTER. 45 
 
 her that Mrs. Allen was an old-time friend 
 of his wife who would permit Madge to pay 
 her way by assistance given in household 
 affairs, that Ruth was sent by her uncle 
 Henry, and that both girls were anxious 
 to fit themselves for teachers. 
 
 Miss Elder saw perfectly well that it 
 would have been a disadvantage to keep 
 the girls longer in the academy, and for 
 personal reasons she was glad to have them 
 gone; but she continuously misrepresented 
 the matter whenever she spoke of it to out- 
 siders. Did Professor Preston consider that 
 he was furthering the interests of the acad- 
 emy and recommending it to other parents 
 by sending his own daughters to a school 
 sixty miles distant? She dropped this ques- 
 tion into the ears of the trustees, and with 
 it certain remarks of the principal, which, 
 quoted only to be misapplied, could not do 
 otherwise than help to make those individ- 
 uals disaffected toward and ready to become 
 unjust to the Professor. 
 
 So far as a knowledge of text-books was 
 concerned, Miss Elder was an educated per- 
 son, but she was conscious of lacking all
 
 46 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 that culture which she erroneously fancied 
 was the result of wealth and luxury. Reared 
 in an unlovely and unchristian home, she 
 looked back on and hated the poverty out 
 of which she had risen by her will and 
 hard study. When she came to know the 
 Prestons and found them as poor as she had 
 ever been, it was a most unpleasant surprise 
 that they had all the gentle ease in any so- 
 ciety, the winning grace that made them 
 everywhere welcome, the dignity that is sure 
 to be respected, everything, in short, that 
 she admired and secretly knew that she 
 lacked. It made them all the objects of her 
 jealousy and dislike. Class distinctions were 
 not sharply defined in the little town, and, 
 although there were three or four very 
 wealthy families, the "aristocracy" was 
 rather one of moral worth and social good- 
 breeding than of the merely rich. It always 
 angered Miss Elder that Mrs. Preston and 
 her daughters were the chosen friends of 
 people who gave her nothing more than a 
 civil notice when she met them by chance. 
 Madge in her happy, busy life had for- 
 gotten Miss Elder's existence; Ruth only
 
 A BLOW AND A LETTER. 47 
 
 remembered her quite compassionately as 
 one who seemed soured and discontented. 
 Both would have been astonished to know 
 that all the spring before their return Miss 
 Elder had pictured them coming back as 
 young ladies, prettier, more attractive, than 
 ever, to receive attention which she never 
 enjoyed. She half convinced herself of 
 injustice done her, although by whom it 
 might have puzzled her to tell. Jealousy is 
 never quiescent in a nature like this. Miss 
 Elder did not deliberately plan to injure the 
 Preston family, but she longed to "take them 
 down." 
 
 About the time the Professor was laboring 
 with the trustees to induce them to right 
 some wrong and make some needed changes, 
 Miss Elder learned of a teacher who wanted 
 a position like that held by Professor Pres- 
 ton. He was near her own age, more con- 
 genial as a friend and unmarried. In a way 
 that could scarcely be called straightforward 
 she possessed herself of the knowledge that 
 he would accept a smaller salary than that 
 now reluctantly given by the academy trus- 
 tees. Before the term closed several of these
 
 48 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 last-named gentlemen began to wonder if a 
 man without a family would not be " more 
 manageable," less " notional," freer to devote 
 " his time and energies to the school," which 
 certainly was running down. 
 
 Ruth had been home about two weeks 
 when she went out one bright morning for a 
 call on some of her young friends whom she 
 had not seen since she returned from Mill- 
 bridge. She wore a light cotton dress that 
 cost but ten cents a yard and was made by 
 her own skillful fingers. That it was pretty 
 enough for a princess when she had thrust a 
 bunch of roses in her belt she did not stop 
 to consider, but Miss Elder, meeting her at 
 a street-crossing, was quite certain that Ruth 
 thought herself wonderfully dainty and fine. 
 There was coarse cruelty in the woman's 
 sudden impulse to take the happy light out 
 of the girl's eyes and send her home crushed, 
 but first she joined her, talking of the day 
 and of some bit of town-news : 
 
 "I suppose, now that you and Madge 
 have finished your education, you will settle 
 down to enjoy life ?" 
 
 " Oh, Miss Elder ! A teacher talk of our
 
 A BLOW AND A LETTER. 49 
 
 finishing our education ! Don't think us so 
 silly as all that. And, as for enjoying life, 
 we always have done it. I can't imagine 
 how two girls ever could have been happier," 
 replied Euth, feeling that she would like to 
 "hop and skip" down the quiet street as 
 she had done a few years since. 
 
 "Will you continue to live in the vil- 
 lage?" asked Miss Elder, searching Euth's 
 face with her sharp little eyes. 
 
 " Well, I don't know yet. I would like 
 to begin at once, as Madge will, to teach for 
 Mrs. Allen ; but if I am wanted at home, 
 why then ' there is no place like home.' " 
 
 " Yes, and your father has reached an 
 age when it is pleasant to give up moving 
 from pillar to post." 
 
 " Yes. Of course there is never any 
 question of father's going away from here," 
 returned Euth, with a vague idea that Miss 
 Elder's remarks had no force. 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! It is very nice, I should 
 say, in that case, that his circumstances are 
 such that he need not go away." 
 
 If it had been defiant, keen-witted Madge 
 instead of Euth Preston who simply turned
 
 50 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 a sweet, bewildered face toward Miss Elder, 
 the latter would have been less merciful. 
 She buttoned her glove with elaborate care 
 and tried to make her voice sound sympa- 
 thetic as she went on: 
 
 " Will you be good enough, Ruth, to say 
 to your father that the suddenness of this 
 decision of the trustees was quite or, that 
 is, almost as much a matter of surprise to 
 me as no doubt it has been to him ? Still, 
 your father has been so long dissatisfied with 
 the way things were going at the academy 
 that he must be relieved to be thus freed from 
 any more responsibility. The trustees were 
 forced to act promptly, for this Mr. Sedge- 
 wick applied for the position of principal 
 under the impression that your father meant 
 to resign, and at the same time he said they 
 must decide at once, because he Mr. Sedge- 
 wick was about going West if he was not 
 called here at one hundred a year less than 
 your father has always received. He is 
 probably not half so scholarly as your 
 father, but young men have so much energy ! 
 New brooms, you know ;" and, out of breath 
 with the information imparted, Miss Elder
 
 A SLOW AND A LETTER. 51 
 
 tilted her sun-umbrella to one side just 
 enough to peep at Ruth. 
 
 The young girl's face was as colorless as 
 the white rose that dropped out of her hand. 
 She did not gratify Miss Elder's curiosity by 
 an outbreak of grief, surprise or indigna- 
 tion ; only, after a long pause, she said quiet- 
 ly, though her heart fluttered like a wounded 
 bird, 
 
 " I should suppose that father would un- 
 derstand the whole matter, as no doubt he 
 must ; for surely the trustees would not be 
 dishonorable enough to engage any young 
 man to accept a position still held by an 
 older man who had filled it honorably for 
 years." 
 
 " Oh, no doubt your father comprehends 
 the situation. We have known for a long 
 time that only the interests of the school 
 kept him from resigning. Remember me to 
 Madge. Good-morning !" 
 
 Ruth greeted several acquaintances who 
 passed after Miss Elder parted from her, 
 and she tried to calm herself to think what 
 all this meant. It did not seem possible that 
 her father could have lost his position. He
 
 52 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 could not have known it at breakfast-time, 
 for he spoke of forming a new class in his 
 department. 
 
 Ruth was in no mood for visiting, so, turn- 
 ing off by a side-street, she made a circuit to- 
 ward home again. Coming near the house, 
 she saw Mr. Lyon and Mr. Barker just going 
 out of the gate. They were the two trus- 
 tees least in harmony with her father. Mr. 
 Lyon was an illiterate, pompous man with a 
 secret contempt for any other man not in 
 " business " and making money ; Mr. Barker 
 was a gnarled and knotty individual fully 
 persuaded that the arts of life were in per- 
 fection when he came of age, and that im- 
 provements since were new-fangled innova- 
 tions " to be frowned down." A school, like 
 a church, ought, in his opinion, to be " run " 
 at the least possible expense to all con- 
 cerned. 
 
 Ruth hurried into the house, and, cross- 
 ing the hall, came on her mother and her 
 grandmother chatting together with placid 
 faces. 
 
 " Who went out as you came in, Ruth ?" 
 asked her mother.
 
 . A SLOW AND A LETTER. 53 
 
 " Two of the trustees." 
 
 Something in Ruth's tone made Mrs. Pres- 
 ton anxious. She rose, and Ruth followed 
 her into the Professor's room. He sat at his 
 table mechanically turning a paper-weight 
 over and over. 
 
 " Has anything happened, Philip ?" asked 
 his wife. 
 
 " Yes ; I have lost my place, and have 
 nothing to live on when what is left of last 
 year's salary is spent. A new man is al- 
 ready engaged. I have been meanly dealt 
 with, but I am not exercised over hurt feel- 
 ings ; the appalling question is, What will we 
 put into our mouths next winter ?" 
 
 Mrs. Preston's heart felt all at once like 
 a leaden ball, but after a little gasp as if 
 for breath she caught hold of the curtain- 
 cord and rolled up the shade, disclosing a 
 stretch of the bluest summer sky : 
 
 "Next winter is not here, Philip. We 
 have enough to live on until then ; in the 
 mean time, we know that God is 'gracious 
 and full of compassion ' that for his chil- 
 dren 'there ariseth light in the darkness.' 
 We must trust, and not be afraid of evil tid-
 
 54 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 ings. There are far better positions than 
 the one you have had, and you are qualified 
 for the best." 
 
 " The public is not so partial as a wife in 
 judging of a man's capacity. Younger men 
 are far more sought after." Catching sight 
 of the distress on Ruth's face, he continued 
 in his usual tone, "We will not worry. I am 
 well, and certainly not superannuated. It 
 seems to me that we had better not tell grand- 
 mother of this just now; it will not look so 
 dark after a while, I trust." 
 
 " You are always thoughtful of dear 
 mother," said Mrs. Preston, gratefully. She 
 knew how sorry the old lady would be to 
 reflect that she was a burden on them, and 
 that for this reason the Professor would 
 spare her all he could. 
 
 Madge's indignation knew no bounds 
 when Ruth found her up stairs and told her 
 the news, but after she had freed her mind in 
 regard to the trustees' meanness she sobered 
 down to consider what seemed to her the 
 family's own unexpectedly-sudden downfall 
 into abject poverty: 
 
 " Why, Ruth, father's salary, you know.
 
 A BLOW AND A LETTER. 55 
 
 usually holds out only through the summer, 
 or at the most till Thanksgiving." 
 
 "That is what so dismays him. But I 
 have no doubt that we can be a little more 
 economical and make it last longer this year. 
 We can both go back to the seminary and 
 spend almost nothing of what we earn there 
 on ourselves." 
 
 " What shall we do now about letting Lo- 
 raine come ?" 
 
 "Mother has been considering, and she 
 says that she can come just the same. The 
 ready money' she will pay for her board will 
 be some help." 
 
 Madge had been giving her wardrobe a 
 thorough inspection and sorrowfully noting 
 its many deficiencies in view of the visit to 
 New York. She had not had any idea, 
 however, of making her sentiments known, 
 and thereby troubling her mother or Ruth ; 
 now all such petty annoyances were swal- 
 lowed up in what seemed the general disas- 
 ter. Putting away a*box of gloves and rib- 
 bons with no more care about their worn 
 condition, she said thoughtfully, 
 
 ." I don't believe I will go to New York.
 
 56 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 How can I enjoy myself when I know you 
 all have this trouble hanging over you ?" 
 
 "Oh, you must remember that father 
 will go right about getting another position, 
 and mother never broods nor worries over 
 family misfortunes that she cannot possibly 
 help ; if they can be gotten rid of, she goes 
 about doing it at once. So don't think of 
 staying just to mingle your tears with ours." 
 
 Ruth tried to laugh, but it was a doleful 
 little attempt, and Madge went on : 
 
 " No, but I could stay and be so ridiculous 
 that you would have to laugh when you felt 
 inclined to weep. I have always been the 
 selfish one in this family. I wish you were 
 going to New York." 
 
 " Well, in that case, Madge, I will do the 
 very next thing to going. I had an idea 
 this morning whereby you will have a con- 
 stant reminder of me. I suppose you know 
 that you have not many fine feathers ?" 
 
 "No, but then I shall tell Cousin Jane 
 that that I am moulting," laughed Madge, 
 quite merrily. 
 
 " You must take my white dress which 
 is different from yours and my pale-blue
 
 A BLOW AND A LETTER. 57 
 
 gingham. How fortunate that you can wear 
 blue ! Some brunettes are dreadful in blue. 
 And I shall not need my lace scarf " 
 
 " Don't, Ruth, trouble yourself to tell me 
 in detail. I will just carry off everything 
 you have that I can possibly use, and you 
 can borrow something of grandmother for 
 Sundays, and weekdays you need not show 
 yourself at all." 
 
 "Don't be headstrong, Madge. I really 
 don't need to use those things here, where 
 everybody knows me, and " 
 
 " Not so much as one pocket-handker- 
 chief of yours will I take, Ruth Preston, so 
 now! You are self-sacrificing enough to 
 pluck out your eyes and go without your 
 skin if I could avail myself of them." 
 
 " Mother will make you come to terms," 
 said Ruth, nodding her golden head. 
 
 After that both girls were silent a long 
 time, meditating on academy affairs. Sud- 
 denly Madge broke out : 
 
 " I believe that detestable Miss Elder is at 
 the bottom of this. Father never would 
 hear my complaints about her, but she was 
 as deceitful as deceit itself when I was in
 
 58 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 school ; I have heard her tell positive un- 
 truths. And she never liked me, and I 
 could not endure her." 
 
 " Probably that was just the reason that 
 father thought you did not do her justice." 
 
 "She is a snake in the grass, Ruth, and 
 you know it." 
 
 Ruth was silenced, for she did know 
 that when in Miss Elder's presence she was 
 always on her guard, always distrustful of 
 that lady's politeness or discomfited by her 
 rudeness. Moreover, she could not with all 
 her charity persuade herself that Miss Elder 
 had not worn an air of ill-concealed triumph 
 that very day. 
 
 Mrs. Preston had not told Abby of the 
 Professor's loss of his school. The faithful 
 creature could not be more careful of the 
 family interests than she already was. Still, 
 Abby heard the Professor sigh or saw him 
 sit abstracted throughout some absurd story 
 of Madge's, while Mrs. Preston was un- 
 usually pale and quiet, and she said to her- 
 self, 
 
 "Something more than common is up. I
 
 A BLOW AND A LETTER. 59 
 
 had better take all the work I can off Mis' 
 Preston and make my part of the house an 
 cheerful as I can. Surprises in the vittals 
 line are sort of pleasant; I'll make 'em 
 something nice they haven't had lately. I 
 wonder if I dare buy some of that lovely 
 flowered chintz down town and cover grand- 
 ma's rocking-chair? If I only dast! But 
 Mis' Preston has just downright forbid me 
 spending my money for one of the family. 
 It's positively tyrannical in her. All of 'em 
 are for ever doing for one another, and I 
 have got to be the only pig in the whole 
 lot." 
 
 " Whose pig is in whose lot ?" asked 
 Johnny, appearing in the kitchen door. 
 
 " Oh, it is an allegorical pig," said Abby, 
 blushing at being caught soliloquizing so 
 audibly. 
 
 " Where is he on exhibition ?" 
 
 "Oh, go along and pick me up some 
 chips, Johnny ; my fire is going out." 
 
 "'Allegorical pig' ! You must be putting 
 him into a poein instead of a pen, and I 
 bet the poem is for the widower Simpk " 
 
 As Abby rapidly approached Johnny
 
 60 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 with the potato-masher, which she chanced 
 to be washing, he retreated, but a moment 
 after he called, 
 
 " Oh, say, Abby ! Put down your ' weep- 
 ins of war ' and I will give you a letter." 
 
 "Who for?" 
 
 "Say, 'For whom?' elegantly and cor- 
 rectly, Abby, and I will say tenderly, 'For 
 thee, from thine own Simpkins.' Say, 
 Abby ! after all these years you will have 
 him, will you not?" 
 
 Abby calmly began washing a frying-pan ; 
 she had not received half a dozen letters in 
 her whole lifetime. 
 
 " Honestly, now, Abby, I have got a letter 
 for you, and it is directed in a handwriting 
 like Uncle Henry's," said Johnny, entering 
 the kitchen and holding out the yellow en- 
 velope, which Abby took suspiciously, turned 
 around curiously, and appeared to give up 
 as a puzzle quite too hard for her. 
 
 " Open it, why don't you ?" 
 
 " Would you ? Maybe 'tain't for me. 
 I don't know no men living out of town, 
 and long as your uncle Henry didn't speak 
 to me over and above once a week, nor to
 
 A BLOW AND A LETTER. 61 
 
 anybody else as often, it ain't any wise likely 
 he is going to correspond." 
 
 " All the same, you can't read it until you 
 open it, Abby." 
 
 " Seems sort of a liberty," she remarked, 
 laboriously prying the envelope apart with a 
 dinner-knife. 
 
 Abby made out the "Dear Abby," and 
 then scowled, squinted and worked her large 
 mouth in a desperate physical attempt to 
 take in the contents by some process other 
 than the natural one: 
 
 " I never could read writing that I didn't 
 write myself, and not that after it had stood 
 long. Johnny, you just read this document 
 for me." 
 
 Nothing loth for he was naturally curi- 
 ous Johnny took the letter, exclaiming 
 immediately, 
 
 " Well, it is from Uncle Henry." 
 
 " Gran'ther Grievous ! How queer ! Do 
 hurry, Johnny; you are a regular poke." 
 
 Thus entreated, Johnny read : 
 
 " DEAR ABBY : I am sick ; I may die. 
 While I am alive I need care. I send mon-
 
 62 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 ey for your expenses, and when you are here 
 will pay you ten dollars a week. Philip will 
 tell you just how to get here, and will know 
 that I want you, and no one else. I am in a 
 small town of rough men, and no women 
 that I want near me. I shall leave enough 
 money to pay your way back if I die. 
 
 " HENRY PRESTOX." 
 
 There was added the name of the town, 
 but Abby paid no attention. She was 
 speechless with amazement at the prospect 
 before her, and at the same time smitten 
 with sincere grief at the thought of the 
 queer, undemonstrative man sick and suffer- 
 ing among strangers. She had always cared 
 for him with the feeling that he was virtu- 
 ally incapable of caring for his own comfort; 
 she had believed that she came as near un- 
 derstanding him as any one could under- 
 stand a man who, as she had more than 
 once declared, " had just locked himself up 
 and thrown away the key to keep out the 
 neighbors." 
 
 "Shall I show it to mother?" asked 
 Johnny, waving the letter before Abby's
 
 A BLOW AND A LETTER. 63 
 
 big green eyes, that seemed fixed on va- 
 cancy. 
 
 Abby nodded, and then, dropping her 
 towel in the dish-pan, followed close behind 
 the boy into the wide old hall, where the 
 family sat sewing and chatting, with the sun 
 shining through the open door and the per- 
 fume of roses creeping in at the window. 
 
 Every one was as shocked and surprised 
 as Abby herself had been. 
 
 " Poor Henry ! I wish I had kept him 
 here. I tried to prove to him that he was 
 too feeble to travel, but he was determined to 
 go," said the Professor. " What will he do if 
 his money gives out? In a place like that 
 he has no friends ; you see that by his send- 
 ing for Abby to nurse him." 
 
 " I am very sorry too," said Mrs. Preston. 
 *' But you must not worry about his means ; 
 he told me plainly once that he had as much 
 as a thousand dollars a year and laid up some 
 of it. How else could he have done for the 
 girls as he has ? He must have felt sorely 
 in need of home comforts, or he would not 
 have sent to Abby to go away- to Colorado. 
 What do you say, Abby ?"
 
 64 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 "Do they talk English there? and if I 
 get sea-sick paddling around on Sneider's 
 Pond, what will I be on the ocean ?" 
 
 " Why, Abby, don't you know where Col- 
 orado is ?" began Madge ; but Abby hastily 
 interposed : 
 
 " Yes, yes ! I'm so excited ! Of course I 
 know it is 'way, 'way out West, among the 
 Mormons and cowboys and wild Injins. 
 Goodness me ! But I'll go all the same. I 
 can start on the three-o'clock train if some- 
 body sprinkles them clothes on the line. 
 But how will you ever get along with the 
 work?" 
 
 "The girls will help me, Abby. And 
 now let us get your trunk packed. Philip, 
 find out exactly how Abby is to go all the 
 changes and make it plain to her." 
 
 Mrs. Preston was on her feet as she spoke, 
 and by the time the Professor had started 
 for the railroad-station to make the neces- 
 sary inquiries and arrangements every- 
 body was at work. Madge went to the 
 kitchen, where, with Johnny's help, she 
 tried to take . Abby's place ; grandma got 
 together everything that she fancied a sick
 
 A BLOW AND A LETTER. 65 
 
 person might use; Mrs. Preston decided 
 what was to go, and Ruth and Abby packed 
 in with the latter's clothing old linen, jelly- 
 jars, mustard-plasters, flannel, herbs, con- 
 densed beef, camphor, tea, cologne, and so 
 many other articles that on contemplating 
 them Abby remarked, 
 
 " If that trunk smashes, they'll take me 
 for a sample-peddler. However, there may 
 not be one thing too many, and I only wish 
 I had a hop-pillow besides. If that man is 
 on his back and weak, he can't help himself 
 this time from having proper care taken of 
 him, and I shall do it, whether or no." 
 
 " Do you think he will die, mother ?" 
 asked Ruth. 
 
 " If this is only an acute attack of his 
 old malady', he may not be dangerously ill 
 He has a good constitution, and has always 
 lived a simple, healthful life." 
 
 " Yes, he was a blameless creature, and he 
 will have few idle words to give an account 
 of," said grandmother, gently. 
 
 "If I was a betting character, I'd be 
 willing to bet a good deal that he hain't said 
 ' Boo !' to one of them natives since he got 
 
 5
 
 66 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 there," put in Abby, rising, red- faced and 
 excited, from her efforts in the trunk. 
 
 " But, for all he is so silent, I missed him 
 after he had gone. He is a real gentleman 
 at heart," said Mrs. Preston. 
 
 "A Preston would have to be that, it 
 seems to me," commented the old lady. 
 
 The Professor appeared in the door too 
 late for the compliment, and began slowly to 
 explain to Abby every move that she must 
 
 make until she reached S Forks, the little 
 
 town where his brother was ill. She looked 
 decidedly stupid, standing with half-open 
 mouth and clenched fists, but she took in 
 every word. If Abby lacked experience, 
 she had an abundant store of common sense, 
 and her intuitions of character were some- 
 times surprising, for she seemed so trans- 
 parent herself. 
 
 When Mr. Preston had finished these in- 
 structions, Abby asked a few questions, and 
 then said, 
 
 " If I get him on his feet, I shall bring 
 him home, no matter what he says to the 
 contrary. But perhaps you had better 
 advise me what to do in case of his death."
 
 A SLOW AND A LETTER. 67 
 
 The Professor's face was very sad as he 
 called to his wife, and together they coun- 
 seled Abby to the best of their ability. 
 
 " If I could, I would go to Henry myself ; 
 but how can I ? Abby is really of far more 
 use to him than his own brother could be, 
 and every penny we have we need for those 
 dependent on us. The journey there and 
 back is very expensive, as you see by this 
 check for Abby's expenses." 
 
 The Professor's tone was sad, and Mrs. 
 Preston tried to speak hopefully of Henry's 
 recovery. 
 
 In less than an hour Abby had gone, and 
 the members of the family, coming together 
 again, could hardly realize what had hap- 
 pened since dinner. 
 
 " Now, mother," said Madge, " you will 
 agree with me this time that I had better 
 not go to New York. What will you do 
 without Abby unless every one of us helps 
 about the work?" 
 
 Mrs. Preston meditated a while in silence 
 before she said, 
 
 " No, dear ; it is decidedly better for you 
 to go. There is no loss without some gain.
 
 68 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 The question of Abby's wages was just now 
 beginning to trouble me. She never would 
 have left me because we were poor, and I could 
 not take her work without paying her for it. 
 To get in debt is what we must avoid. This 
 absence of hers for a while settles that diffi- 
 culty. Again, the smaller the family, the 
 less work. Ruth is well, grandma will al- 
 ways insist on doing something to help, and 
 we can get on nicely. I prefer to have- you 
 go, Madge." 
 
 For the next few days everybody had 
 more than usual to do, and perhaps it was 
 just as well. The Professor began a corre- 
 spondence with various agencies, hoping by 
 some means to secure a position for the 
 coming school-year. Mrs. Preston was busy 
 apportioning Abby's duties that no one 
 might be overtaxed. 
 
 "Is it not strange that we hear nothing 
 from the Raynors ?" asked Ruth one after- 
 noon. " I supposed Cousin John would be 
 here the first of this week." 
 
 "Yes, it is queer. And I wonder why 
 Loraine does not write and tell when we are
 
 A BLOW AND A LETTER. 69 
 
 to expect her? though she may come now 
 any day, without giving warning," returned 
 Madge. 
 
 " That is equally true of Mr. Kaynor," 
 said her mother ; " so leave nothing undone 
 that should be done before you go away." 
 
 "I could start at a half hour's notice, 
 mother, and I can think of nothing but a 
 call on Mary Parker. I might go there this 
 very afternoon. Will you go with me, 
 Euth ?" 
 
 Ruth made a remarkable grimace, which 
 Madge understood at once as a refusal and a 
 reason not to be openly expressed. Ruth 
 wanted to finish an old dress undergoing 
 renovation ; it was one of her mother's that 
 the girls were turning and remodeling, hap- 
 py in the knowledge that she would be 
 pleasantly surprised. 
 
 " Go alone, Madge ; I can finish it in an 
 hour, and you may not see Mary if you 
 don't go to-day," whispered Ruth. 
 
 "Very well," said Madge; and a few 
 minutes later she was on her way. 
 
 Mary Parker was a very lovely girl, as re- 
 fined and gentle by nature as was Ruth,
 
 70 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 who had been from childhood her chosen 
 friend. She was the only child of wealthy 
 parents. Her father had formerly been one 
 of the academy trustees, but, finding him- 
 self unable to influence the other trustees 
 for the higher good of that institution, he 
 had withdrawn from the board. Had he 
 held office, Professor Preston would never 
 have been so dishonorably deposed. 
 
 The Parkers lived in a handsome old 
 square house with wide halls and high 
 porches, having a beautiful shaded lawn in 
 front and a large fruit-and-flower garden be- 
 hind. When Madge opened the tall iron 
 gate, she saw through the trees a summer- 
 house where Mary sat making bouquets. 
 Crossing the lawn, Madge approached her, 
 exclaiming, 
 
 " What roses ! Oh, I never saw more 
 beautiful ones." 
 
 "Are they not exquisite? You must take 
 home a great bunch. I am getting half of 
 these for the neighbors. Pick out the col- 
 ors you prefer," said Mary, after a hearty 
 greeting. 
 
 "Well, pink ones for myself," laughed
 
 A BLOW AND A LETTER. 71 
 
 Madge ; " white ones for Ruth ; these pale- 
 yellow roses are grandmother's favorites be- 
 cause for some reason they remind her of 
 her old home; father likes deep-red ones, 
 and mother every kind that grows. So, you 
 see, Mary I shall help myself bountifully." 
 
 " Madge, what made your father resign 
 his position at the academy ? You are not 
 going to move away, are you? We were 
 greatly surprised to hear to-day of a new 
 principal. The trustees have been trying 
 to get father on the school-board again." 
 
 Madge's cheeks were redder than the roses 
 she was choosing, bat she tried to control 
 her indignation : 
 
 " Father did not resign. This upstart of 
 a teacher applied for the place while father 
 held it ; he offered to come for a lower sal- 
 ary, and the trustees engaged him and then 
 dismissed father, who for fifteen years has 
 served them only too conscientiously." 
 
 " Why, Madge, you astonish me ! My fa- 
 ther did not understand the matter in any 
 such way." 
 
 " Very likely not ; I should think the 
 trustees would hesitate to give the plain
 
 72 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 facts. However, Mary, father has warned 
 me not to talk the affair over in public, for 
 I am much too vehement ; but I will say to 
 you that from the bottom of my heart I des- 
 pise a man like this Mr. Sedgewick." 
 
 " Mr. Sedgewick ' ? Who is he ?" 
 
 " Why, the new principal." 
 
 Mary was at a loss what to say, and soon 
 changed the subject after satisfying herself 
 that the Prestons had no present plans to 
 leave the town : 
 
 "There, Madge! put your roses on that 
 wet moss and come into the house with me. 
 I want you to see some new books in the 
 library." 
 
 The girls sprang up and tripped across 
 the close-cut grass to the house, whose cool, 
 richly-furnished rooms Madge admired and 
 tried not to covet when she remembered the 
 faded carpets and the patched furniture at 
 home. They were talking very animatedly 
 as they crossed the wide hall, and, coming 
 suddenly into the subdued light of the 
 library, neither of them saw Mr. Parker 
 standing by the window in conversation 
 with two gentlemen. One was Mr. Lyon.
 
 A BLOW AND A LETTER. 73 
 
 complacent and pompous, as usual ; the 
 other, a rather short, thick-set man whose 
 singularly pleasant voice was for the girls 
 the first intimation of his presence. 
 
 " Don't retreat, daughter, nor you, Madge," 
 exclaimed Mr. Parker. " Let me introduce 
 you to Mr. Sedgewick, the future principal 
 of our academy though Miss Preston may 
 have already met her father's successor." 
 
 Looking blandly at Mary, whose impulse 
 had been to put herself almost between him 
 and Madge, Mr. Sedgewick's quiet response 
 was, 
 
 "No; that is a pleasure in reserve. I 
 was meaning to ask Mr. Lyon to take me 
 this afternoon to call on Professor Preston." 
 
 " You mistake ; this is Miss Preston," be- 
 gan Mr. Parker, getting into the middle of 
 a sentence about not meaning any discourtesy 
 to Mr. Sedgewick when he expressed regret 
 that the Professor had resigned ; but just 
 what he said later he did not know, for 
 Madge Preston's face was a study. As if 
 aware that her eyes were blazing with anger, 
 she turned her face toward the open window, 
 but not before Mr. Sedgewick and Mr.
 
 74 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 Parker also had seen on it the quick con- 
 tempt and indignation. Even Mr. Lyon 
 was for some cause disconcerted, and mut- 
 tered something about there being more 
 time for social calls after the new principal 
 had got past the business preliminaries. 
 
 " Excuse me for interrupting you, papa," 
 said Mary. " I wanted to show Madge the 
 books that came last night; they are over 
 here ;" and with as much tact as her lady- 
 mother could have shown Mary made an 
 easy impersonal remark and escaped. 
 
 " Would that man have the impudence to 
 interview my father after what he has 
 done?" exclaimed Madge, hotly, when once 
 out of hearing. 
 
 " Perhaps there has been some mistake," 
 returned Mary. " I like his face extremely." 
 
 " There is no mistake ; there can't be any. 
 But I am glad you saved me from uttering 
 one word ; I might have expressed my 
 mind." 
 
 ' You have a speaking countenance, and 
 that spoke," laughed Mary. 
 
 " I hope so. Well, I will get my roses 
 and go home ; we are very busy these days."
 
 A SLOW AND A LETTER. 75 
 
 The girls went back to the summer-house, 
 where Madge left Mary, and started for 
 home with her arms full of flowers. Several 
 times she stopped in the quiet street to have 
 pleasant talks with acquaintances. Just as 
 she parted from the last, a garrulous old 
 lady, a gentleman came up behind, lifted his 
 hat and joined her, saying, 
 
 " I am glad to overtake you, Miss Preston. 
 I am rather anxious to meet your father; 
 will I find him disengaged at this hour ?" 
 
 "He was at home an hour ago," replied 
 Madge, icily. 
 
 With many quiet glances at the beautiful 
 girl who carried her head so loftily, Mr. 
 Sedgewick spoke of the natural beauties of 
 the place, made some candidly disparaging 
 remarks about the academy buildings and 
 carried on a cheerful monologue. A gleam 
 of fun passed once over Madge's lips at the 
 thought, " This is what Johnny would call a 
 'versation. It is like the interviews be- 
 tween Abby and Uncle Henry very one- 
 sided." 
 
 "I should like to know, Miss Preston, 
 what led your father to resign his position,
 
 76 TiIE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 though I can easily imagine certain discour- 
 agements from what little I have seen of the 
 condition of things here." 
 
 " I presume my father would prefer to be 
 his own interpreter." 
 
 " That is precisely my motive in seeking 
 him out ; I am not quite satisfied with hear- 
 ing of and from him at second hand. After 
 his resignation I had no time to write him 
 before accepting the place." 
 
 Madge could not resist the question, put 
 with the slightest accent of sarcasm : 
 
 " What was the date of his -resignation ?" 
 
 There was an almost unmanly gentleness 
 about Mr. Sedgewick's mouth on ordinary 
 occasions, but it rapidly turned to firmness 
 as he said, 
 
 " If you will be kind enough to answer 
 that question for me yourself, I shall un- 
 derstand better why you ask it in just that 
 way." 
 
 "Oh," thought Madge, "you need not 
 think to impress me with your stern airs ; 
 I am to be no pupil of yours." She calmly 
 disentangled a thorny rose from the frill of 
 her sleeve, gave Mr. Sedgewick a glance that
 
 A BLOW AND A LETTER. 77 
 
 suggested scornful disapproval, and then an- 
 swered, 
 
 " I am not aware that ray father ever went 
 through the useless form of a resignation. 
 After you had applied for the position that 
 he was holding, and when the trustees had 
 given it to you, he was notified to step down 
 and out. He will supply you with the dates 
 if he is meeker than his daughter." 
 
 There was a sudden quiver of tenderness 
 in the girl's tone as she thought of the 
 humiliation to which her father had been 
 subjected, and a second after she regretted 
 having one word with this interloper. All 
 the same, she stopped as he exclaimed, sud- 
 denly standing still in his astonishment, 
 
 " Wait a moment, Miss Preston. There is 
 a shameful deception here, or a wild mistake. 
 Do you know just what you are saying ?" 
 
 Madge might have been a child of ten for 
 all the heed Mr. Sedgewick paid to her after 
 she had answered " Yes," indignant at the 
 doubt expressed in his question. He walked 
 rapidly on in grave silence, and Madge 
 thought better of him in this mood. Possi- 
 bly he was not so deserving of condemnation
 
 78 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 as she supposed. She guided him home and 
 left him to the tender mercies of her father 
 who received his unexpected guest with 
 much more self-possession than his daughter 
 had displayed. 
 
 The latter darted into the sitting-room 
 and reported the episode of the afternoon. 
 
 For the next hour earnest voices were 
 heard from the Professor's room in constant 
 discussion. 
 
 " Father must be giving him a terrible go- 
 ing over," said Ruth, apprehensively. " He 
 will have one of his headaches to-night." 
 
 " Has he gone ?" asked Mrs. Preston, ap- 
 pearing from the dining-room to say that 
 supper was ready. 
 
 Just then the Professor's door opened, the 
 gentlemen came into the hall, and, to the la- 
 dies' surprise, the Professor himself was 
 heard to urge Mr. Sedgewick with much 
 cordiality "to stay to tea," "to come in 
 again " and not to let this matter give him 
 " any more annoyance." Moreover, if he 
 could help him "by any advice or infor- 
 mation later, when school opened," he must 
 " call on " him " freely."
 
 A BLOW AND A LETTER. 79 
 
 " Heaping coals of fire," whispered Madge 
 " or, rather, trying to quite burn him up, I 
 should think. I could not be so forgiving." 
 
 " What does it mean, Philip?" asked Mr?. 
 Preston when her husband shut the door 
 behind Mr. Sedgewick and joined the fam- 
 ily. 
 
 " It means that that man is a gentleman. 
 To make a long story short and not to harrow 
 up yourselves in looking for the real wrong- 
 doer, be content to know that before he asked 
 for it Mr. Sedgewick was given to under- 
 stand that my place was vacant." 
 
 " Miss Elder," whispered Madge. 
 
 " ' Charity thinketh no evil/ " murmured 
 Mrs. Preston, reproving herself for secretly 
 echoiDg Madge's suspicions. 
 
 " He began to suspect the truth when Mr. 
 Lyon opposed his coming to see me, and he 
 resolved to know everything at the outset. 
 He was outraged at the indignity not only 
 to me, but to himself. Had he not been 
 undeceived, he would have rested under the 
 imputation of a meanness utterly abhorrent 
 to him. He insisted on throwing up his 
 engagement without delay, and I spent the
 
 80 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 hour laboring to show him the uselessness of 
 that. Self-respect would prevent my ever 
 taking the position in circumstances like 
 the present. I exonerate him from all blame, 
 and he, as I told him, may even turn the af- 
 fair to his own advantage and the public good. 
 He can put the trustees some of them to 
 the blush for their duplicity, and by taking 
 high ground at the start he may get from 
 them concessions for the academy that I 
 never could. I like him extremely." 
 
 " Dear me !" laughed Ruth. " I fancied 
 from Madge's fierce manner that his impu- 
 dence must be superhuman." 
 
 "So I thought it was. I would like to 
 see him again, for I was so filled with indig- 
 nation that I scarcely looked at him suf- 
 ficiently to know him another time," said 
 Madge. 
 
 " Well, sit down to your supper now, for 
 the tea is getting cold. I waited on purpose 
 until the Eastern train was in, thinking Mr. 
 Raynor might come ;" and, so saying, Mrs. 
 Preston took her own seat, adding, "I am 
 sure I rejoice that the new principal is aD 
 honorable man."
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. 
 
 " So links more subtle and more fine 
 Bind every other soul to thine 
 In one great Brotherhood divine." 
 
 AS Abby was borne swiftly Westward on 
 the first long journey of her life she ex- 
 perienced a great variety of emotions, but 
 homesickness was for a time predominant. 
 Suddenly she recalled her dialogue with 
 Johnny, and said to herself, 
 
 " No, Abby, you shall not be an allegori- 
 cal pig! What if you would prefer your 
 own home-nest?" (Mixed metaphors never 
 troubled Abby.) "Is that any reason for 
 r( fusing to fly to a poor suffering fellow- 
 mortal who has got himself in some out- 
 landish place? When duty calls, all that 
 ought to concern me is to get up and start ; 
 
 6 81
 
 82 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 the Lord will guide me the rest of the way. 
 That poor old soul over there in rusty alpaca 
 has got a cracking headache ; I know it by 
 the way she shuts her eyes and draws her 
 mouth." 
 
 Five minutes later the weary old woman 
 had Abby's shawl "in the small of her 
 back " where Abby had decided it ought 
 to go had her feet in a comfortable position, 
 had told a common enough little story of ill- 
 health, of a dying son whom she was going 
 to see and of a life very full of lesser troubles. 
 At the first stopping-place for refreshments 
 Abby got her a cup of tea; after it the 
 headache went away, and there came instead 
 a hope that her son might be better, after all 
 yes, and a rested, comforted feeling that 
 had crept over her after Abby said, 
 
 " You go to sleep now remembering what 
 the Bible says to them that trust in the Lord. 
 It says he ' shall preserve thee from all evil. 
 The Lord shall preserve thy going out and 
 thy coming in from this time forth and even 
 for evermore.' He knows that you and I are 
 going West, and we need not be one bit 
 scared."
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. 83 
 
 In fact, long before Abby reached her 
 journey's end she had gained the good-will 
 of many who had laughed at her full-moon 
 countenance and her bright-red traveling- 
 dress. She petted the invalids, amused the 
 children would have enjoyed helping the 
 porter had that been expedient. A great 
 many people had confided their plans, hopes 
 and troubles to her, and she felt at least a 
 year older than when she started. Heeding 
 a delicately-made suggestion of Mrs. Preston, 
 she told no one anything of her own affairs 
 beyond the fact that she was going to nurse 
 a friend who was ill among strangers. 
 
 It was about eight o'clock one evening 
 when Abby arrived at the little settlement 
 
 of S Forks and made her way to Mr. 
 
 Preston. An extract from her first anx- 
 iously-awaited letter will give her impres- 
 sions : 
 
 " Traveling isn't anything ; starting is all 
 there is to it. That isn't anything, either, if 
 somebody says 'Start' and furnishes the 
 money ; after that you just go. I found 
 the greatest number of people going too, 
 and they were all so like other folks that
 
 84 THE SILENT -MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 before I got done with 'em it seemed as if I 
 had known 'em all my born days. 
 
 " S Forks isn't a place at all ; it is a 
 
 huddle of rough houses and a rum-hole, and 
 a store full of everything except them lux- 
 uries that I brought in my trunk for sick 
 people, and a lot of mines. The men all 
 look like murderers, and the women are 
 dried up and yellow and wear the dingiest, 
 slouching old calico dresses ! How some of 
 'em scold ! The very men who look like 
 cut-throats ain't, for they stand the women's 
 scolding as meek as can be. 
 
 " But I am rambling away from your 
 uncle Henry. I found him in a tolerable 
 decent house the neatest one here and 
 the woman who keeps boarders had done 
 the best she could for him. I can't tell 
 what ails him ; he can't tell himself, nor the 
 doctor, either if he is a doctor. Henry has 
 sort of lost his grip, but he'll get it again, I 
 hope. I made his bed all over and gave him 
 beef-tea and told him all the news and 
 cleaned house before midnight; after that 
 I settled down to take care of him. He is 
 just as sociable as he can be. He said that
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. 85 
 
 first night, 'I knew you would come/ and 
 4 How are the folks ?' and some days since, 
 when he hasn't said quite so much, he has 
 let me talk; and that does just as well, be- 
 cause I always did know what he would say 
 if he'd only think it was worth while to 
 say it. 
 
 " The woman of the house is good-princi- 
 pled, I guess, but she is a poor coot about 
 housekeeping. I amuse myself off-times 
 cooking, and the boarders have offered me 
 a share in a mine here if I will keep on 
 doing it. There isn't a Bible in this house 
 except mine, nor in any house around, unless 
 I am mightily mistaken. 
 
 " I just wanted to get off by myself last 
 Sunday and confess to the Lord what an un- 
 grateful wretch I was always, reveling, as 
 you might say, in blessings all my mortal 
 days. Three women came visiting Sunday 
 afternoon with uncombed hair, no collars 
 and old dragged-out clothes. I hated to 
 go around before them in my new Turkey- 
 red dress, but I had to; and I guess they 
 found out I was not proud, for they got to 
 talking about the days before they came
 
 86 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 here and their Eastern homes, and, it being 
 Sunday and all, I read the Bible to them a 
 whole hour steady ; and one of them cried 
 just like a baby, and all of them want Bibles 
 and mean to get them. I think I'll try and 
 do a little missionary work and sort of col- 
 porteuring around off-times when I ain't 
 nursing your uncle or cooking for the board- 
 ers. I gave a peddler three dollars to buy 
 me some Testaments and fetch them when he 
 comes again. Miss Peters here says he will 
 not come, but I know he will. The Lord is 
 sorrier for these folks than I am, and they 
 ain't going to ask for his own word in vain. 
 Besides, that peddler never got mad when I 
 ec ec sporchtulated with him about swear- 
 ing so dreadfully. He offered me a yard of 
 ribbon for nothing. Johnny need not say 
 my spelling is not correct, as if he'd found 
 out something I did not know before. 
 
 " Mis' Preston, you'd better look to them 
 strawberries I canned. If I didn't get 'em 
 Air-tight, they'll be a-performing, and spoil. 
 
 "Your uncle Henry came here to look 
 after some silver-mine. It has biist up or 
 fallen through or run out whatever expres-
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. 87 
 
 sion they use for the losing of what they 
 never had as near as I can make out. 
 
 " But I must stop writing, for I am going 
 to blister your uncle. I have no faith in 
 this nun? skull of a doctoring-chap who comes 
 around with his pills. He hasn't but two 
 sorts, and neither is good for much one 
 sort for chills, and one for fever. I tried 
 both sorts myself, and wasn't one ioter hotter 
 or colder than common." 
 
 Immediately after getting this letter the 
 Professor wrote urging his brother to send 
 for the best medical attendance of which he 
 could possibly avail himself; he also coun- 
 seled Abby to use all her influence to this 
 end if his brother's case seemed serious. 
 However, after he learned that Henry had 
 no acute attack of disease, he remembered 
 many times when he had rallied from similar 
 weakness, and was almost sure that with good 
 care he would soon be well again. 
 
 These were days full of anxiety to Pro- 
 fessor Preston. He was making every effort 
 to learn of some school needing a teacher, but 
 day after day passed, and the most promising 
 prospects proved delusive. Teachers were
 
 88 THE SILENT NAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 wanted for dancing, for drawing, for music 
 and French for every department which 
 the poor man was not able to fill. He tried 
 with failing courage not to think of the on- 
 coming days when his last salary would be 
 exhausted and he be forced to borrow money 
 or run in debt or What? He would 
 gladly do any work for which he had the 
 strength, but he was not very well fitted for 
 new employment, even if he could find any 
 opening. Mrs. Preston tried to cheer him by 
 telling him how cleverly she and the " girls " 
 could manage. Their earnings would help, 
 and perhaps if she herself were to take 
 boarders they could support the family very 
 comfortably. He knew better. Nobody 
 wanted to board save a few persons very 
 undesirable as inmates. Everybody in the 
 village preferred a home, no matter how 
 humble, to a boarding-place. 
 
 Johnny had brought Abby's letter one 
 noon, and in the afternoon of that same day 
 Loraine Faye arrived. The girls were sit- 
 ting on the front doorsteps, which were back 
 from the street and shaded by a great maple
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. 89 
 
 tree. Neither of them saw Loraine until 
 the gate clicked, and Madge, looking up, 
 espied the slim figure in the stylish gray 
 dress. They sprang up with exclamations 
 of heartiest welcome and cries of " Where 
 did you come from ? Did you walk from 
 the station ?" and " Why didn't you let us 
 know you were coming ?" 
 
 " I came from a place that I did not start 
 from, and I did not know when I should ar- 
 rive here ; and the reason I could not take 
 a carriage is evident," laughed Loraine as, 
 opening her dainty pocketbook, she displayed 
 two cents, and nothing more. Her cheeks 
 were flushed with unusual excitement, and 
 she declared that she was not tired or dusty 
 or hungry, but must at once tell her advent- 
 ures since morning. 
 
 " I started on the seven-o'clock train from 
 Millbridge in order to reach here about ten. 
 Mrs. Allen has a new man who is remark- 
 ably reliable and intelligent; we have all 
 come to depend on him to do our errands, 
 and to make no mistakes. Well, he went to 
 the train with me, checked my trunk, 
 bought me a paper and found me a seat ou
 
 90 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 the shaded side of the car. You know two 
 trains meet at the station there, but of course 
 I never dreamed of taking the Eastern train, 
 while, it seems, John Myers, either getting 
 confused or having an idea that I was going 
 East, hurried me across the Western train 
 without my knowledge I was certainly as 
 stupid as he and before the conductor came 
 around I was well on the way to New York. 
 My ticket was all right, and I was amazed 
 to learn that I was all wrong. He was very 
 kind and discussed the situation as amiably 
 as if such blunders were common. He said 
 
 I would do best to go to S , stay there 
 
 until two o'clock and take the express back. 
 I resigned myself, and felt very placid when 
 
 at nine o'clock we ran into S . I walked 
 
 about in a pretty park, went to a picture- 
 gallery, and at one o'clock was very hungry. 
 I did not like to go alone to a hotel, and, as 
 I had noticed a very nice restaurant by the 
 station and had seen ladies there, I thought 
 I would take a lunch and be ready for the 
 train back. The restaurant was quite crowd- 
 ed, but I ate leisurely, and paid my bill 
 without being aware that any one was inter-
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. 91 
 
 ested in my movements. I made sure later 
 that I was getting on the right train, and, as 
 I secured a very nice seat, I said to myself, 
 ' There ! now I am headed in the proper di- 
 rection, and all is well that ends well.' I 
 had my ticket and my money in my Russia- 
 leather case you remember it, Madge not 
 much money, I am glad to know. I went 
 to look for the ticket, and the case was gone. 
 A pickpocket had cut open my pocket, as 
 you see here, and taken its contents. I sup- 
 pose I looked as I felt ;" and Loraine paused 
 for breath, while Ruth cried, " Poor child !" 
 and Madge exclaimed, 
 
 " It was dreadful. But I wish I could 
 have seen you. You know I always said 
 that no girl of your age ought to have such 
 repose of manner as you have." 
 
 "Well, I lost it; I believe I groaned out 
 loud. I know I just stared at that gash in 
 my new dress, while I thought of having no 
 ticket and not a bit of money oh yes ! 
 these two cents and such a story to tell the 
 conductor. There was a man in the seat 
 behind me who had been drinking. He 
 began to ask me questions just as another
 
 92 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 one in front turned around. I was afraid 
 of the first one ; and when the other saw it, 
 he asked me quietly and kindly what had 
 happened, and I told him the whole without 
 waiting for the conductor. He had a face 
 that I could not help trusting, and I did not 
 realize that he was not an old man. When 
 he heard where I was going, he said that I 
 must not give myself the least annoyance, 
 or even trouble myself to tell the conductor 
 of my tribulations ; I must let him pay my 
 fare, take his card and return the loan at 
 my convenience. His name was Sedge wick, 
 and he was to be principal of the academy 
 here next year." 
 
 Seeing the girls' surprise and amusement, 
 Loraine continued : 
 
 "Up to that time I would have refused 
 his offer, preferring to trust myself to the 
 conductor rather than borrow money of a 
 stranger; but when I exclaimed that Pro- 
 fessor Preston was the academy-principal, he 
 told me of the change and how he had called 
 here only last week, and that he had met 
 Madge. After that I let him pay the con- 
 ductor, and I assured him that I could be
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. 93 
 
 trusted to discharge my honest debts. Now 
 here I am, as tired as if I had escaped perils 
 of every variety." 
 
 " And where is he ?" asked Madge, laugh- 
 ing at the impression her own scornful coun- 
 tenance must have made on the " irrepressi- 
 ble principal," as she henceforth styled him. 
 
 "Mr. Sedgewick? Oh, he went on far- 
 ther west somewhere. I am to send his 
 money to Utica." 
 
 "Well, Loraine, if you were one of the 
 wild girls of the seminary, I should suspect 
 you of having these adventures on purpose ; 
 as it is, I will admit that they must have 
 been very trying," said Ruth, gayly ; while 
 Madge added, 
 
 "Now come in and see the family and 
 rest a little after your exciting travels." 
 
 Loraiue was prepared to find the Preston 
 household conducted on simple principles. 
 She found the house and its belongings 
 almost poverty-touched, but before she had 
 been there an hour she felt the charm of 
 true Christian refinement, the presence of a 
 home atmosphere full of love and kindliness. 
 The gentle Professor, the dear old grand-
 
 94 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 mother, and even awkward Johnny, each 
 made her welcome in a pleasant, characteris- 
 tic way. She was especially pleased with 
 Grandma Grey, who talked of unseen things 
 as if they were the most real of any to her. 
 
 The second day of Loraine's stay the 
 Professor received a reply to an application 
 for a position of which he had cherished 
 many hopes ; this destroyed them all in 
 a sentence. Loraine, who had been briefly 
 told by Ruth the facts in the case, easily 
 divined the reason of the sigh he gave as 
 he folded the letter and said to the old lady, 
 half playfully, 
 
 "Mother Grey, what would make you 
 look melancholy ?" 
 
 Loraine was a little startled as grandma 
 replied promptly, " The white devil," and 
 the Professor looked equally curious. 
 
 "That is what old John Bunyan calls 
 unbelief. It is a reasonable, harmless-look- 
 ing devil, he says, but one that makes mis- 
 chief in a body's soul. When he is around, 
 I am melancholy ; but I can keep cheerful, 
 no matter how crookedly things go, when I 
 feel, as Bunyan does, that ' there is nothing
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. 95 
 
 like faith to help at a pinch. Faith dissolves 
 doubts as the sun drives away the mists, 
 and, that you may not be put out, know,' he 
 says, 'that your time of believing is always. 
 Let it rain, let it blow, let it thunder, let it 
 lighten, a Christian must still believe.'" 
 
 " You are right," said the Professor, going 
 back to his room and leaving Loraine alone, 
 as it happened, with the old lady, who said, 
 
 " Bunyan knew what he was talking about, 
 and we all of us sooner or later come to places 
 where we must be saved by faith or sink into 
 wretchedness. Have you not found it so, 
 dear?" 
 
 Loraine's pale face flushed ; then, as if by 
 a great effort, she replied : 
 
 " I have not realized for myself a great 
 deal that people whom I trust tell me is 
 true. I believe that they believe." 
 
 "And that doesn't give you a bit of com- 
 fort when your heart aches does it, you poor 
 child? I must tell you one more thing 
 Buuyan says: 'A little from God is better 
 than a great deal from men.' He knew 
 that one man's faith could not be shared 
 with another, for, as he goes on to say, ' the
 
 96 THE SILENT MAN'S 
 
 reason why people at this day are at such a 
 loss as to some things is because they receive 
 what comes from men's mouths (or reject it) 
 without searching and kneeling before God 
 to know of him the truth of things ;' and then, 
 dear, he adds what is so wise : ' Things that 
 we receive at God's hand come to us as 
 things from the minting-house though old 
 in themselves, yet new to us. Old truths 
 are always new to us if they come to us 
 with the smell of heaven upon them/ Don't 
 you rest, dear child, until God himself gives 
 you the truth ; and remember that Jesus 
 Christ is the truth ready to be revealed 
 when you are ready to receive. I see these 
 blessed realities so plainly nowadays, per- 
 haps, because I am getting old and useless 
 in the world. Having so much time to 
 think, I love to talk to young people who 
 have their life before them. But I will try 
 and not weary you. Madge and Ruth are 
 so patient with me !" 
 
 Loraine was very undemonstrative, but, 
 bending over the old lady, she kissed her 
 wrinkled cheek and with misty eyes whis- 
 pered,
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. 97 
 
 "Pray for me, grandmother, that God 
 will give me a truth for myself 'with the 
 smell of heaven on it.' My heart is very 
 hard sometimes, but oftener it is very 
 lonely." 
 
 " He says, ' Come unto me, all ye that 
 labor and are heavy laden.' Have you 
 been to him?" 
 
 " I have tried to start," faltered Loraine, 
 questioning her conscience. 
 
 " Well, he will meet you surely and give 
 you rest," said the old lady as cheerily as if 
 talking to a child of an absolute certainty. 
 
 After a while grandma fell asleep in her 
 easy-chair, and Loraine glided softly up to 
 her room, or the one that had been Ruth's 
 before her arrival ; now the sisters slept to- 
 gether. 
 
 " Ruth ought to be good, and Madge, too, 
 brought up in such a home. How different 
 mine was !" She glanced around at the worn 
 bureau and the old-fashioned bed, the braided 
 mats on the stained floor, the exquisite neat- 
 ness of the whole place, made pretty, in spite 
 of poverty, by feminine devices. She remem- 
 bered the elegant chambers of her old home,
 
 98 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 her French maid, the finery and show that 
 she never enjoyed, and thought, " How much 
 richer was the life these little girls had than 
 mine! If I had only had a grandmother, 
 failing of a mother ! Everything seems to 
 have been against my learning what came to 
 them unsought." 
 
 Loraine's face was so full of a discontent 
 which Ruth more than any one else under- 
 stood that when Ruth herself suddenly ap- 
 peared on the threshold Loraine said, 
 
 " Oh, don't be dismayed. I am a little 
 melancholy, as usual. Your good grand- 
 mother, whom I have been coveting, would 
 say a ' white devil ' was after me." 
 
 " Yes, I have heard of him," said Ruth, a 
 smile flickering about her lips. She went to 
 a little shelf of books, took down a worn vol- 
 ume of poems and read aloud : 
 
 " ' I think, if thou couldst know, 
 With thy dim mortal sight, 
 How meanings dark to thee 
 Are shadows hiding light, 
 Truth's efforts crossed and vexed, 
 Life's purpose all perplexed, 
 
 If thou couldst see them right, 
 
 I think that they would seem all clear and wise and 
 bright.
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. 99 
 
 " 'And yet tliou canst not know, 
 And yet thou canst not see : 
 Wisdom and sight are slow 
 
 In poor humanity. 
 If thou couldst trust, poor soul ! 
 In Him who rules the whole, 
 
 Thou wouldst find peace and rest, 
 Wisdom and sight are well, but trust is best." 
 
 Eutb shut up the book and said, 
 
 " Now, don't you want to take a walk and 
 see this old town of ours ?" 
 
 " Yes, when I tell you that you are as 
 near like your own lovely grandmother as 
 sixty years' difference in age will permit. Is 
 Madge going with us ?" 
 
 Yes, Madge was going. She danced in 
 from her own room in the wildest of spirits, 
 and soon all were laughing at her comical 
 speeches. Madge was an optimist. If her 
 friends were ill, she was sure they would re- 
 cover, " because, you know, they have lived 
 so long." She was very angry at the treat- 
 ment that her father had received, but, in 
 the true Micawber spirit, she was positive 
 that something fine " would turn up." 
 
 Getting their hats, the three girls went 
 down the hill and the length of the main
 
 100 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 street, showing Loraine the few really fine 
 houses and the many pretty old-fashioned cot- 
 tages, then the one business street, almost as 
 quiet as any other part of the village. Half 
 a dozen " teams " from the country were 
 hitched to posts where the staid old horses 
 could contemplate the calicoes, straw hats 
 and parasols in the windows. Inside the 
 shop the farmers' wives were chatting togeth- 
 er, and their daughters were trying to find 
 out the fashions as they were worn by " folks 
 in town." 
 
 Loraine liked everything, but chiefly the 
 straggling side-streets where grass grew, 
 where trees almost met overhead, and now 
 and then between the old-fashioned gardens 
 came a field full of dandelions and butter- 
 cups. 
 
 "And you want to leave all this for a city, 
 you deluded Madge ?" she exclaimed. 
 
 "All what ?" 
 
 "All this nature blue sky, roses, butter- 
 cups and our society." 
 
 " Oh, I want to see some new human nat- 
 ure, and I dare say there is sky over New 
 York. I shall miss you," replied Madge,
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. 101 
 
 lightly, adding, a minute later, " You must 
 remember that you had years in which to 
 get tired of a city. Loraine, what are you 
 going to do now that school is a thing of the 
 past for you ?" 
 
 " Tell me ?" asked Loraine. 
 
 " Have a career," Madge answered, prompt- 
 ly. " I am thinking of beginning one myself. 
 I have plenty of ability, and possibly you 
 also may have." 
 
 " Thanks ! May I ask in what line yours 
 seems to lie? It may help me in finding 
 out my possible own," laughed Loraine. 
 
 " I do not wish to commit myself prema- 
 turely on that point, but I have been serious- 
 ly reflecting that ability without much self- 
 confidence makes a failure. Of course self- 
 confidence without ability makes a fool, but 
 with self-confidence ability such as I un- 
 doubtedly possess makes success. If I were 
 to live my life over again, I would not be so 
 retiring so unassuming." 
 
 " Ruth, there was not anything intoxicat- 
 ing in the pudding-sauce that you made for 
 dinner, was there ?" asked Loraine. 
 
 " No, dear hearers," continued Madge.
 
 102 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 " Lacking self-confidence, I have not achiev- 
 ed greatness, and I can testify that it is all 
 nonsense about having it ' thrust on ' one." 
 Then, dropping her oratorical manner, she 
 said in her natural voice, " I really do think 
 that it would be charming to become what is 
 called a 'social success.' I would like to 
 live in a city, to have plenty of money and 
 be a leader of the best style in refined and 
 and piously-fashionable society." 
 
 "Oh, turn your adjectives around, Madge," 
 laughed Loraine. " I have heard and seen 
 too fashionably-pious people, but there is 
 an incongruity that I can't explain about 
 your combination of words." 
 
 " Not at all ; your arrangement is incon- 
 gruous. I think a person might be really 
 good and do ever so much Christian work, 
 and yet know every time what was the very 
 latest style in dress, house-furnishing and 
 "etiquette. I believe I have the sort of 
 ability that would give me success of that 
 kind if I only had wealth to back up the 
 ability." 
 
 How very girlish Madge looked standing 
 there by Mr. Parker's pasture-lot! She
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. 103 
 
 wore a neat but faded and slightly outgrown 
 cotton gown, because her better ones were 
 being saved for the visit to New York. 
 She seemed to Ruth to be talking purest 
 nonsense, but Loraine said to herself, " Yes, 
 with your beauty and high spirit, money 
 would easily enough open to you a career of 
 gayety ; but I am glad that you can't have 
 it, for it would spoil you." 
 
 "Ruth, why are you staring that poor 
 cow out of countenance?" cried Madge, 
 giving her sister a playful shake. " What 
 do you think?" 
 
 " I think I would like plenty of money 
 and city life sometimes never in the sum- 
 mer but it would be dreadful to have to 
 keep pace with the very newest style in 
 everything." 
 
 " Besides attending to all the ' Christian 
 work/ " added Loraine, demurely. 
 
 " Of course the extremes in in every- 
 thing must be avoided," argued Madge. 
 " My ideal lady is symmetrical in character 
 not so good as to be fanatical and not so 
 fashionable as to be swallowed up in world- 
 liness."
 
 104 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 "A trimmer, as you might say, borrow- 
 ing from history." 
 
 Madge hardly liked this remark of Lo- 
 raine's, but before she could reply Ruth ex- 
 claimed, 
 
 "There is Mary Parker sitting at her 
 chamber window. She sees us, and beckons. 
 Let us go in for a little talk with her. You 
 will like her very much, Loraine." 
 
 Mary met them at the door, and the girls 
 seated themselves in the cozy chairs that 
 made the piazza so pleasant on an afternoon 
 like this. 
 
 Loraine was greatly drawn toward Mary, 
 and wondered how Ruth could once have 
 said that she Loraine reminded her of 
 Mary. Both were tall and pale, but there 
 was a buoyancy about Mary, a happy, satis- 
 fied expression on her face, while Loraine's 
 features when in repose had over them a 
 shade of sadness and her large eyes were 
 wistful. 
 
 Madge, who could never keep still long at 
 a time, left the others talking and went to 
 pick a rose from a bush at the end of the 
 piazza. The long window of the library
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. 105 
 
 was open, and close by it sat Mr. Parker. 
 Seeing Madge, he put down his paper and 
 greeted her cordially. She had always been 
 a favorite of his, her bright ways amusing 
 him when as a little child she used to visit 
 Mary : 
 
 " By the way, Madge, why did you glower 
 so on that poor little pedagogue I had in 
 here the other day ? He has brains enough, 
 if he is not a Goliath. I thought you were 
 going to annihilate me for introducing him." 
 
 " Oh no ; it was his destruction I was 
 longing for in murderous fashion," said 
 Madge, laughing. " But I found out after- 
 ward that my angry passions rose all for 
 nothing : he was innocent of the evil deeds 
 I laid to his charge." 
 
 " Tell me about it. I suspected there was 
 something crooked somewhere." 
 
 Madge had an impulse to evade a full 
 reply, her better judgment hinting that 
 enough had been said at least, by her; 
 but she reasoned that her motive was now to 
 show how she had misjudged a man whom 
 her father approved, and to say something 
 in his praise.
 
 106 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 Mr. Parker had consented to become 
 again an academy trustee, and could be a 
 friend and counselor to the new principal. 
 He was a very impulsive man, and, being 
 singularly straightforward himself, Madge 
 knew how he disliked anything underhanded 
 in others. Prompted, as she tried to assure 
 herself, by a love of fair play, she gave Mr. 
 Parker an insight into Miss Elder's charac- 
 ter that filled him with surprise. Madge 
 had always heartily disliked the woman, 
 and it was really a revengeful desire to give 
 that lady " what she deserved " that made 
 her tell Mr. Parker of many occurrences 
 long past and better forgotten, of scenes in 
 which Miss Elder had played a part not quite 
 honorable. Madge assured herself while 
 her conscience reproved her that all was 
 true, that her father would never tell it, 
 since he had been for so long time associated 
 with Miss Elder ; but after she had behaved 
 so dishonorably toward him the truth might 
 as well be known. 
 
 Mr. Parker listened with a grave face, and 
 Madge secretly rejoiced to think that one of 
 the trustees had had his eyes opened. On the
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. 107 
 
 way home she reported a little of what she 
 had said to Ruth, who looked sorry and 
 said, 
 
 "Suppose Miss Elder were to lose her 
 place?" 
 
 " She made father lose his ; to lose hers 
 would be a just retribution." 
 
 Ruth hated to seem to preach to anybody, 
 so she kept silence ; but Madge knew by her 
 troubled face that she was thinking that per- 
 sonal dislike to Miss Elder had been the 
 deepest motive in the late talk with Mr. 
 Parker. 
 
 " I will not say anything at home about 
 it," thought Madge. " Perhaps I was too 
 hasty, but I told the truth; so I will not 
 repent." 
 
 Just then the town-clock in the steeple of 
 the church at the bottom of the hill struck 
 six, and Ruth hurried home, saying, 
 
 " It is my turn to get supper to-night, 
 Madge ; so you need not hasten. I am 
 only afraid mother has been too prompt 
 for me." 
 
 Madge and Loraine saw Ruth quicken her 
 steps, until, reaching home, she turned at
 
 108 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 the front door after a word with Johnny, 
 and beckoned to them to hurry. 
 
 "She has found her work all done and 
 supper ready, I presume," said Madge. 
 " Well, there was almost nothing to do, for 
 she had everything prepared." 
 
 Johnny came to meet them, and said, 
 "We are waiting for you. Mr. Raynor 
 has come, Madge, and wants you to go on 
 with him early in the morning. Why, you 
 look as astonished as if you had not been 
 expecting him by rail, telegraph and tele- 
 phone every hour for weeks." 
 
 " But he has come suddenly, for all that." 
 " My ! don't I wish I were going to New 
 York ! I never saw a ferry-boat in my life," 
 muttered Johnny ; adding, " I say, supper is 
 ready and waiting, and a good one it is too, 
 if Abby did not get it. Oh my ! isn't Mr. 
 Raynor fat? He puffed like a porpoise 
 when he got to the top of this hill, and he 
 said if he lived here he would own a chariot 
 and chargers." 
 
 Loraine had seen so little of home hospi- 
 tality that she found that evening very pleas- 
 ant. Mr. Raynor was one of those jovial,
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. 109 
 
 kindly men who never get over being boys. 
 He made grandma blush with honest praises 
 of her beauty, he enjoyed Mrs. Preston's cook- 
 ery because it was like his mother's, and he 
 was full of fun and anecdote. 
 
 Madge, greatly excited, laughed, chattered 
 and exclaimed to Loraine, 
 
 " Mother was wise when she made me get 
 everything ready for my start before he 
 came." 
 
 It was late that evening when all ceased 
 to talk together in the parlor, and later 
 still before Ruth had put the last article in 
 Madge's trunk and Mrs. Preston had given 
 her last charge about being " very careful of 
 your health, dear," and " enjoy everything 
 that is good and profitable; but remember 
 that Ruth says she found Cousin Jane's ideas 
 were not invariably in accordance with the 
 principles we approve. Don't follow blindly 
 anybody's example, Madge." 
 
 " Yes, mother, but you must remember 
 that sometimes Ruth's ideas and mine are 
 not in accordance," laughed Madge. 
 
 " That is jiot the point, dear. You know 
 what is the standard whereby to test every-
 
 110 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 thing not my ideas nor Ruth's nor the 
 Raynors', but whatsoever things are true, 
 honest, just, pure, lovely and of good report. 
 Madge, my child, I will give you that eighth 
 verse of the fourth chapter of Philippians 
 for your motto until you return. When 
 you are puzzled or tempted, think on these 
 things." 
 
 Mrs. Preston, tired out with the day's un- 
 usual effort, had sunk into the cushioned 
 rocking-chair; Ruth, locking the trunk, 
 perched herself on its top, looking very 
 sweet and childlike as the soft lamplight 
 fell on her flushed cheeks and her yellow 
 hair. For a minute Madge felt homesick, 
 as if she were already far from this cozy 
 parlor that the girls still thought a charming 
 room, mellowed a good deal by time carpet 
 dull, curtains old-fashioned, nothing modern 
 or aesthetic about it but very homelike, 
 as if for years untold saturated with sum- 
 mer's sunshine and winter's cheer. 
 
 " Oh, mother, I never am good away from 
 home. I presume I shall do worse things 
 in three weeks with the Raynors than Ruth 
 did all those months she spent with them
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. Ill 
 
 while they were abroad. But Ruth cannot 
 be vicious." 
 
 " Oh, Madge !" cried her sister, with real 
 pain in her voice. "You have gotten so 
 into the way of talking about me that since 
 Loraine came I am ashamed all the time. 
 It looks as if I had set up a claim to being- 
 better than other folks or other girls, and 
 she knows I am not, and what a hypo- 
 crite " 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! What a hypocrite you are, 
 Ruth Preston ! But if you want to unde- 
 ceive Loraine and everybody else, I will be 
 careful to explain that I am the good, irre- 
 proachable one and you the deeply, darkly 
 wicked ;" and, hugging Ruth until she 
 pulled her off her insecure position, Madge 
 exclaimed, " Everybody who sees your 
 treacherous countenance will believe that." 
 
 " Children, you must go to bed at once, 
 for Madge starts by half-past eight. Don't 
 talk, but try to go right to sleep." 
 
 The next day dawned bright as the bright- 
 est June morning can dawn, and what more 
 need one ask on earth ? There was a dainty 
 breakfast, a great vase of dew-sprinkled roses
 
 112 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 on the table. Everybody talked cheerily, 
 and eight o'clock came surprisingly soon. 
 
 When Madge, running up stairs, reap- 
 peared in her traveling-hat, with her little 
 basket on her arm, Mr. Raynor surveyed 
 her deliberately and solemnly shook his head. 
 Her great black eyes were first brilliant with 
 fun, then tender with leavetaking ; her 
 cheeks were like pink oleanders, and al- 
 together she was a girl so beautiful that the 
 sternest critic must find her pleasing. 
 
 "It is a great responsibility," muttered 
 Mr. Raynor. " I will hand her over to 
 Mrs. Raynor at the earliest possible moment, 
 and after five o'clock to-night I can't be re- 
 sponsible for consequences. Oh, you have 
 worn a veil ! Well, some sort of an extin- 
 guisher ought to be provided for eyes of that 
 power and magnitude. Time's up ! Johnny, 
 you must come to us next. Good-bye, all ! 
 Happy to have met you, Miss Faye. 
 Grandma, my mother would have been just 
 your age, and she was very like you, so I 
 may kiss you." 
 
 Mr. Raynor, playfully pulling Madge from 
 her mother, after saluting the old lady, left
 
 Madge off for New York. 
 
 Page 112.
 
 VARIOUS TOPICS. 113 
 
 them in a small tumult of last words and 
 stir about the baggage. 
 
 Grandmother Grey wondered what the 
 heavy little paper could be that John Ray- 
 nor had thrust into her hand, whispering, 
 "Take it, because I cannot ever give my 
 mother a present any more." How the old 
 lady's tears dropped on the five big gold- 
 en twenty-dollar pieces when she opened the 
 paper and laid them out on her Bible-cover ! 
 She had only yesterday learned by chance the 
 straitened condition of the family finances; 
 now she could help and not feel that she 
 was making the burden of expense heav- 
 ier, as she might have felt in spite of all 
 persuasion to the contrary. It was very 
 thoughtful of " Cousin John," as he called 
 himself, by reason of a far-off relationship. 
 He knew the Prestons had little, and Mrs. 
 Preston's mother nothing. 
 
 That was a day of pure happiness to the 
 old lady. She surprised everybody by put- 
 ting on her Sunday dress and bonnet and 
 walking off without telling where she was 
 going. She had been in her day a notable 
 housekeeper, and, now aware of just what
 
 114 THE SILENT MAN 1 'S LEGACY. 
 
 things were most needed in the family, she 
 went from grocery to dry goods store with the 
 delight of one who knows how and what to 
 buy and has a purse equal to the occasion. 
 She had made sure of a barrel of sugar, a 
 barrel of flour, boxes of starch, soap, and 
 similar articles, and was proceeding from 
 window-curtains, bedspreads and towels to a 
 new dress for Mrs. Preston, when dinner- 
 time came, and she concluded to go home 
 and rest. She never got back to finish her 
 purchases, for she was found out and made to 
 use for herself the rest of the money.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 ABBY'S LETTER. 
 
 " S FORKS, July 1, 18. 
 
 DEAE RUTH : Your uncle Henry just 
 says to me that he don't want to talk no 
 more to-day, and that is his polite way of 
 shutting me up, because he hasn't spoke 
 since midnight except to say he wouldn't 
 eat no more, and it's afternoon now. He 
 don't grow worse, and he don't grow better/ 
 He sleeps a great deal, and is patient enough 
 to drive a body distracted who wasn't used 
 to him as I be. I have just made him com- 
 fortable and left him in peace, so will im- 
 prove the time writing to you. 
 
 " Some days I do get so lonesome that I'd 
 even stand Johnny a- tormenting me about 
 that miserable Sirnpkins. Ruth, don't you 
 never tell him, but I have had such a trial 
 with a peddler Babbitt here! I feel as 
 
 115
 
 116 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 if I shouldn't dare try to do good to an- 
 other widower-man again as long as I live 
 at least, till he was well married. He left 
 off bad language, and washed before- he 
 came to meals, and agreed that gambling 
 was a bad habit, and did errands for me, 
 and went and spoiled it all by asking would 
 I marry him and settle down at the Forks. 
 When he said he'd ' laid out the job of re- 
 forming' to please me, I talked to him an 
 hour steady like a Dutch uncle. I tried to 
 work for his poor soul and keep under my 
 disgust for the homely, shiftless coot himself. 
 Settle at the Forks ! Ugh ! I'd like to un- 
 settle the Forks, whisky-guzzling, card-play- 
 ing, swearing and general Sodom-and-Go- 
 morrah doings as there is here. 
 
 "The Bibles came, and we have a class 
 every Sunday afternoon. Almost every 
 woman and baby in the Forks attends, and 
 it is just blessed to read the Lord Jesus' 
 own words to the poor discouraged creatures 
 that don't find their life worth enduring. It 
 makes me cry to see how they try every 
 Sunday to tidy up a bit more and to wash 
 the babies' faces, and last week I got them to
 
 ASSY'S LETTER. 117 
 
 singing ' What a Friend we have in Jesus, all 
 our sins and griefs to bear!' I had about 
 given up, and concluded that trouble had 
 crushed all the sing out of them. Miss 
 Peters let me give them a tea-party last 
 week, and I believe it is going to be a means 
 of grace. We invited them early, and got 
 the house in apple-pie order. Miss Peters 
 ain't as particular herself as she had ought 
 to be, but some way she is improving lately. 
 We had just the best supper I could get up, 
 and I took extra pains, to have exactly the 
 sort of victuals any of them could have if 
 they only would learn to cook it palatably ; 
 and Miss Peters and I got them all talking 
 about housekeeping, nursing sick folks, tak- 
 ing care of babies and setting a table fit for 
 decent folks to enjoy. I never heard such 
 awful sentiments as some of them had, and I 
 guess they was as much surprised at some of 
 mine ; they seemed to be. 
 
 " There are a few women about the settle- 
 ment that I do suppose are awful wicked. 
 These other ignorant ones despise them as 
 if they were the offscourings of the earth, and 
 I suppose they be just that; but the poor
 
 118 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 wretched creatures have got souls, and every 
 one of them had a mother when she was 
 little and innocent. Christ died for the 
 very wickedest of them, and eternity's ahead 
 of them. I can't get them out of my mind. I 
 have to pray over them nights when I lie 
 awake for fear your uncle will need me. 
 One day I heard one of them was sick in 
 a forsaken old hut without anybody belong- 
 ing to her to care for her regular ; some of 
 her old companions and a half-Indian woman 
 did for her by spells. I thought maybe she'd 
 swear at me and throw the broth on the floor 
 and behave awfully the first time I went, but 
 she stared and stared with her great wild 
 eyes, until she took to crying like a baby. 
 Since then she listens to any amount of talk. 
 I told her about her sins every single time I 
 saw her, until one day she says, ' You don't 
 begin to know nothing about them. You 
 are so green you'd make me laugh if I could 
 laugh any more. I could tell you enough to 
 make you stop your ears and run. What 
 makes you try to teach me what I know 
 better than you can ?' and such a groan as 
 she gave ! You better believe, Ruth, I felt
 
 ABBY'S LETTER. 119 
 
 as if I was wasting my time, and I went at it 
 with my whole heart, telling her about a 
 Saviour for her sins. She receives it like 
 a little child. She knows she has consump- 
 tion and must die, and nobody ever told her 
 what we have always known. Two or three 
 girls and women of the same sort follow me 
 there now and act as if they wanted to hear 
 the Bible verses that I read, and the hymns. 
 You know I can't sing fit for decent folks to 
 hear, but, as long as these aren't decent, I 
 think they'll forget all about me and attend 
 to the gospel or the hymns. Do pray for 
 these poor lost souls, Ruth, and thank God 
 for sending you into a white, clean home. 
 " I hope your mother is not getting over- 
 done with all the care she must have. Tell 
 your father I do my very best as a nurse, 
 and I wish I could see a more rapid im- 
 provement in his brother. Has Madge gone 
 to New York ? and is grandmother well ? I 
 do want to see you all terribly. 
 
 " Your affectionate 
 
 "ABBY."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AT COUSIN RAYNOR'S. 
 
 "If all the year were playing holidays, 
 To sport would be as tedious as to work ; 
 But when they seldom come, they wished-for come." 
 
 MR. RAYNOE, was a very successful 
 business-man, and now, while compara- 
 tively young or, at least, in the prime of 
 life he found himself rich according to 
 New York standards. He was a man of 
 the utmost morality, liberal and a regular 
 attendant at "a church whose congregation 
 was fashionable enough to fulfill Madge's 
 requirements. His wife was a good-natured, 
 commonplace mortal who easily accommo- 
 dated herself to the luxury denied her in 
 earlier life, and who placidly admired any- 
 body who excelled in beauty, in culture, or 
 even in piety. 
 
 The only son, Bert, had been at times in 
 the Preston family for several years. When 
 120
 
 AT COUSIN RAYNOR'S. 121 
 
 a heedless, warm -hear ted, headstrong boy 
 his father put him under the Professor's 
 care with excellent results. Again, when, at 
 the age of eighteen, he needed more wisdom 
 in his guidance than John Ray nor possessed, 
 he stayed with the Prestons while his parents 
 traveled in Europe. He was just then at a 
 critical stage in his career, though no one 
 fully realized it save Abby, who learned of 
 several escapades unknown to the rest of the 
 family. All the same, the introduction of 
 Bert into that atmosphere of high living 
 and Christian thinking and his affection for 
 each member of the family changed in a 
 twelvemonth all his preconceived ideas of 
 religion and all his habits. True, they were 
 crude ideas born of ignorance, but soon they 
 would have become the prejudices of un- 
 belief ; and if his habits were then more 
 follies than vices, they promised well to 
 become the latter in time. Now, having 
 attained his majority, Bert was what his 
 father was not a professing Christian, a 
 good deal taken up with his law-studies, his 
 recreations and the claims of society, but 
 a thoroughly lovable, well-meaning fellow.
 
 122 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 Being young, handsome and his father's heir, 
 approbation not unnaturally had made him 
 a trifle conceited. In the past Madge and 
 he had been by turns fiercely belligerent 
 and the merriest of good comrades. In 
 fact, they were in both mental and moral 
 characteristics strikingly alike. 
 
 Madge had written immediately after her 
 arrival in New York, and a few days later, 
 telling in glowing terms of Cousin Jane's 
 kindness and her enjoyment of every mo- 
 ment. Somewhat later Ruth received from 
 her the following letter : 
 
 "DEAR RUTH, AND LOKAINE TOO: This 
 letter is going to be for you girls especially, 
 because I promised you 'all the particu- 
 lars.' 
 
 " I don't see, Loraine, what ever possessed 
 you to say that New York was ' horrid ' in 
 the summer. These June days are lovely 
 here, and the streets are so clean and all the 
 shop-windows full of beautiful summer silks 
 and muslins, and such quantities of flowers 
 for sale on the streets ! We are only a block 
 from Central Park, where every afternoon
 
 AT COUSIN RATNOR'S. 123 
 
 we ride before dinner; and once Bert and I 
 took a walk there before breakfast. You 
 can fancy how beautiful the place was the 
 grass like velvet, the trees full of birds, the 
 pretty lakes and shaded walks and pictur- 
 esque arbors. 
 
 " I can't tell you about the Raynors' house, 
 but oh, it is just my ideal of a house ! You 
 remember that red-haired Billings girl at 
 school who said she was going to write a 
 novel as soon as she graduated and have it 
 the story of 'the daughter of a lord' because 
 she did love high life and had read so many 
 English novels that she knew exactly how 
 lords' daughters felt and talked? Well, I 
 feel something like Miss Billings. I would 
 like to live in just as much luxury as a lord 
 or a Wall-street broker-father could supply. 
 Don't you read this nonsense to my blessed 
 father, who wipes his pen on the tail of his 
 bottle-green coat and doesn't realize that he 
 bought the coat when you and I were infants 
 in arms. He might think I did not value 
 him. You know 'my heart is situated cor- 
 rect,' like the chap's Dickens tells about, but 
 riches are so nice ! Why, picture my sur-
 
 124 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 roundings this moment ! Rose-colored silk 
 curtains at doors and windows under cream- 
 white lace, polished floors, Turkish rugs, 
 divans and cushions, the loveliest cabinets, 
 vases, statuettes, water-colors, and me in my 
 second-best white dress, which is not a bit 
 too good for a morning-wrapper. I ask 
 myself if I am the girl who ten days ago 
 washed this same dress in Abby's kitchen 
 and upset the washtub, and had to mop the 
 floor in consequence ; then I step into a sat- 
 in-lined carriage, and we dash down Fifth 
 Avenue, while Mrs. Ray nor consults me 
 about a five-hundred-dollar set of china that 
 she means to buy, and I advise her to pay 
 two hundred dollars more and take one I 
 like better. 
 
 " What is the news from Abby ? If she 
 writes any long letters, send them to me. 
 Sometimes I think I actually need Abby ; 
 she is the ballast to my balloon at home. 
 
 " Cousin Jane says she can't show me 
 anything of New York life because the 
 fashionable season is all over, but everything 
 seems grand and gay to me. She gave a 
 lunch-party yesterday, and from the waj
 
 AT COUSIN RAYNOR'S. 125 
 
 she talked I supposed it was to be five or 
 six ladies in to lunch with her quite simply. 
 It seemed to me a very splendid affair ; the 
 lunch was quite elaborate, and just the flow- 
 ers at the ladies' places cost twenty-five 
 dollars. 
 
 "When Mr. Raynor said all the star- 
 actors had gone from the theatres and the 
 great singers from the opera-houses, I said 
 it made no difference to me, because I did 
 not expect to go to such places. Perhaps 
 you will think I am very weak, but I have 
 attended several theatrical performances, 
 and operatic ones too. I could not very 
 well do any other way : the tickets were 
 bought before I was consulted. Mr. Raynor 
 says he drops into such places after a hard 
 day's business just to rest and laugh a little, 
 and he does not see that he ever was harmed 
 by going, and that Cousin Jane and he keep 
 ' pretty respectable.' 
 
 " Bert is himself, but improved ; we get 
 on capitally together. He is more dignified 
 than he used to be, reads considerable, be- 
 longs to the Young Men's Christian Associa- 
 tion, though Cousin Jane says he 'is not
 
 126 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 tediously pious/ if you know what that is ; 
 fanatical, perhaps. 
 
 "Cousin Jane is very kind to me. She 
 has made me some handsome presents which 
 I feel embarrassed to take, but she knows 
 that I love pretty things and cannot afford 
 many of them. She says she likes to give 
 me what costs her no sacrifice, and that it is 
 nonsense for me to be so scrupulous. I am 
 afraid some days that Well, I do not 
 think, Ruth, that there are many people in 
 the world so particular as our parents are, 
 and so unworldly. Cousin Jane would 
 rather die, she says, than be poor. Well, 
 perhaps I should feel that way if once I 
 were to be very rich. 
 
 "Ruth, what do you suppose mother 
 would say if the Raynors wanted (really 
 wanted) me to spend the whole summer with 
 them not in New York, but to travel with 
 them? I feel it in the air that they are 
 thinking of proposing this, and Cousin Jane 
 says she is going to write to mother to-day, I 
 suspect on this very subject. Oh, Ruth, if 
 she does, will you not beg father and mother 
 to let me go ? I never have seen anything,
 
 AT COUSIN RAZOR'S. 127 
 
 you know, and you have been all over Eu- 
 rope." 
 
 Madge filled the rest of the long letter 
 with an account of a trip to Coney Island 
 and with details of life in the Raynor house- 
 hold, interesting to Ruth, but of no import- 
 ance in our story. When she had finished 
 and sent her letter, she took a new magazine 
 and ensconced herself in a great easy-chair 
 by the window to read. It was too warm a 
 day for much exercise. She had been in a 
 very happy mood when she began her letter, 
 but something now filled her with a vague 
 discontent. She began to think that she 
 did not want to spend the summer with the 
 Raynors, after all, because of the discomforts 
 of being, in a certain way, in a false posi- 
 tion. Only yesterday the youngest lady at 
 the lunch-party had talked to her as if 
 everybody wore diamonds and went to the 
 mountains or the seaside in summer. To 
 fall into sympathetic converse with such 
 persons was hypocritical ; to keep explain- 
 ing that she had no diamonds, was having 
 her first pleasure-trip and had been, was
 
 128 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 and always might be " poor " was downright 
 humiliating to Madge. 
 
 " I have no idea," she reflected, " but that 
 Ruth would glide out of such difficult places 
 as easily as she would truthfully. I don't 
 believe that girl could ever understand that 
 she was poor unless her stomach positively 
 ached with hunger." 
 
 Perhaps, if Mrs. Preston had realized the 
 undue value which Madge just at this time 
 in her girlhood was putting on what to Mrs. 
 Preston herself were the mere externals of 
 life, she would have kept her at home. She 
 fancied that Madge would enjoy New York 
 in the whole-souled, merry way that she 
 usually took any novelty, returning with the 
 old zest to their simple home-life; but the 
 truth was that Madge had never learned, as 
 had poor Loraine, how rare as well as how 
 blessed is a perfect home. The Preston 
 home was in Madge's estimation just like 
 the generality of " plain " people's homes ; 
 only, being her own, she loved it best. 
 That her father was a Christian gentleman 
 as well as a scholar was a matter of course, 
 as was the fact of her mother's being lovely,
 
 AT COUSIN RAYNOE'S. 129 
 
 wise, and a lady in the real sense of that 
 much-abused word. 
 
 The pages of the magazine were uncut 
 while the young girl fell into a long revery, 
 out of which she started at last thinking, 
 " Cousin Jane will wonder at me. I prom- 
 ised to change that stiff-looking bow on her 
 new dress." She laid aside her book and 
 started down stairs, her slippers making no 
 sound on the soft carpet. Hearing Mrs. 
 Raynor's voice in conversation, she supposed 
 that a caller might be in the parlor, and so 
 entered the library, opposite. A moment 
 after, she knew that Mr. Kay nor was at 
 home, for Cousin Jane was saying, 
 
 "I like Madge very much, and I under- 
 stand her better than I do Ruth." 
 
 " Well, then, if things ever take that 
 turn, you'll be satisfied, I suppose. She 
 is downright handsome, for one thing." 
 
 Madge turned to retreat without a thought 
 of lingering as an eavesdropper, but she 
 could not help hearing one sentence more: 
 
 <; Yes, I would rather that Bert should 
 not fancy one of these extravagant, fast 
 New .York girls." 
 
 9
 
 130 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 When Madge reached her room again, her 
 cheeks were crimson with confusion. She 
 tried to believe that she did not understand 
 what she had heard. The Preston girls had 
 been too carefully reared and were by nature 
 too delicate to be, as are many silly girls, 
 for ever jesting about beauty, courtship 
 and marriage. If they thought of the last 
 at all, it was as of some far-off contingency 
 about which there would be time enough 
 to think when occasion required. They had 
 lived too busy, happy and useful lives for the 
 mawkish sentiment or the coarse nonsense 
 and flirtation in which too many vulgar 
 schoolgirls are early adepts. But Madge 
 knew that she had understood exactly what 
 John Raynor and his wife were this moment 
 discussing the possibility of their son's 
 wishing some time to marry her, Madge 
 Preston. She was indignant. Bert was to 
 her a gay, outspoken companion, just as he 
 had been since they had played together as 
 children. What right had his parents to be 
 talking thus of him or of her ? She did not 
 expect to marry anybody for years, and no- 
 body had any business to be assigning her
 
 AT COUSIN RAYNOR'S.' 131 
 
 to any young man without as much as a 
 " By your leave." She wished she were 
 home feeling like a little girl again. 
 
 It was well that luncheon was late that 
 noon, for Madge was decidedly out of sorts 
 and not at once able to talk unconstrainedly; 
 as it was, Cousin Jane told her that she 
 looked as if she were feeling the heat very 
 much. After luncheon Mrs. Raynor said 
 that it was "quite too hot for anything but 
 a nap," and accordingly retired to her own 
 room, saying, 
 
 " It will be cooler later, and about sunset 
 we can go for a drive." 
 
 Madge was glad to be alone. She resolved 
 to enjoy her visit to the utmost for the next 
 ten days, and then to decline any invitation 
 to prolong it. She would drop a note in the 
 morning to her mother, telling her to with- 
 hold her consent should the Raynors consult 
 her about keeping Madge with them for the 
 summer. 
 
 "I can explain it to mother when I get 
 home. She will understand how disagree- 
 able it would be for me if the Raynors had 
 this idea that probably never entered Bert's
 
 132 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 head unless they put it there. If it should 
 be there, all the worse, for I like Bert just 
 as I like Johnny, only not half as well no, 
 not quarter. Yes, I think I will go home. 
 Ruth and Loraine are enjoying themselves, 
 I presume." 
 
 A few hours later the Raynors' elegant 
 open carriage stood waiting to take the fam- 
 ily for their after-dinner drive in the Park. 
 
 " I suppose there is hardly anybody that 
 is anybody left in town," remarked Cousin 
 Jane as her son followed her down the steps, 
 Mr. Raynor having already seated Madge in 
 the carriage. 
 
 " No," replied Bert ; " almost every turn- 
 out last night in the Park was the family 
 ark of a butcher, baker or candlestick-maker, 
 or else a hired carriage filled with people 
 from out of town." 
 
 "Is a person from out of town so 
 marked ?" laughed Madge. " Does every- 
 body who looks at me know that I am from 
 the country ?" 
 
 " Oh, you have found out already that 
 everybody looks at you, have you?" ex- 
 claimed Bert, in the old teasing way that
 
 AT COUSIN KAYNOR'S. 133 
 
 Madge was pleased with to-night, it was so 
 opposed to anything sentimental. 
 
 " Well, I declare ! Everybody has not 
 gone," said Mrs. Ray nor as they turned into 
 the Park. " There is Mrs. Moultrop. See 
 the style there, Madge." 
 
 Madge had just glanced at the great black- 
 and-yellow- trimmed carriage, the coachman 
 and footman with yellow-rosettes to match ; 
 last of all, the lady and the dog on the 
 seat. 
 
 " That is one of the richest women in 
 New York City. She was a poor school- 
 teacher on a salary of three hundred dollars 
 a year when she met Thirteen Million or 
 Billion. He liked her pretty face, and she 
 liked the ciphers to his unit he is the most 
 dried-up little unit you ever saw out of the 
 arithmetic so she married him." 
 
 Bert gave this information after the car- 
 riage passed, and his mother added, 
 
 " Well, she has the most magnificent 
 mansion that she knew how to devise, and I 
 don't believe she pines after school-teaching. 
 I do think that is about the most wearing 
 life a woman can have, growing old beating
 
 134 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 ABC into dull brains and growing prim 
 and schoolmarmy herself." 
 
 " I am going to be a teacher. I wonder 
 if I shall get very tired of it if people will 
 after a while find me sharp and prim like 
 Miss Elder ? It is drudgery, and poor father 
 has grown weary in doing it, and has always 
 stayed poor. Oh dear ! how I am getting to 
 hate poverty ! How lovely it is to be rolling 
 over these charming roads and to be as rich 
 as the Raynors themselves are !" 
 
 A sudden thought flashed into Madge's 
 mind a startling new connection of the 
 ideas that had that afternoon beset her a 
 thought how wealth might, after all, be hers. 
 She was very pale and quiet for the rest of 
 the drive. 
 
 It was delightfully cool, and the prettiest 
 turns and cross-roads were chosen in order 
 that Madge might have new views of groves, 
 lakes, dells and wide sweeps of lawn. She 
 admired everything pointed out, but not in 
 any drive before had she seen so little. The 
 amber sunset-light that filled every avenue, 
 the exquisite tree-shadows, the bird-song, 
 even the little boats afloat on a surface blue
 
 AT COUSIN EAYNOE'S. 135 
 
 as the sky, were less real to her than were 
 certain ideal pictures taking on sharp out- 
 lines and vivid coloring in her imagination. 
 Little she realized that the greatest tempta- 
 tion of her life was creeping toward her 
 the ugly passion, greed of gold, disguised 
 in its most attractive form. 
 
 It was quite dark when the party returned 
 home, and after a not very animated stay in 
 the parlor the various members of the family 
 retired for the night. 
 
 " What would mother say if she knew of 
 what I am thinking ?" murmured Madge an 
 hour later, turning from the long mirror in 
 her chamber and recalling her mother's 
 motto, given her the night before she left 
 home. She looked about for her Bible, 
 found it and turned to Philippians, fourth 
 chapter. The verse quoted by her mother 
 did not fix her attention then as did some 
 other passages that she had forgetten : 
 
 " * Be careful for nothing ; but in every- 
 thing by prayer and supplication with thanks- 
 giving let your requests be made known unto 
 God.' That is the way mother does pray, re- 
 membering all her mercies as she calls them
 
 136 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 in the past. Well, I ought to be thankful for 
 mine. ' Let your requests be made known.' 
 Mother's requests are for blessings on her 
 children and the poor and the sick and the 
 wicked, and for daily bread. If I really 
 made known to God to-night my requests 
 if I dared do it I should ask for a grand 
 house like this, servants, horses and carriages, 
 diamonds and unlimited money. 'And the 
 peace of God which passeth all understanding- 
 shall keep your hearts and minds through 
 Christ Jesus.' When ? Why, after offering 
 such a prayer as that first, and living in the 
 spirit of it, no doubt." She read along far- 
 ther, to the words, " For I have learned, in 
 whatsoever state I am, therewith to be con- 
 tent," and commented, " So has mother and 
 grandmother yes, and Ruth. So have not I ! 
 I wonder if that is why they are not pulled 
 this way and that why father does not get 
 cross and out of patience when he reflects 
 how upright he has always been, and that now 
 here he is left poor and without a way to turn 
 himself?" Her glance fell again on the page: 
 " But my God shall supply all your need ac- 
 cording to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus."
 
 AT COUSIN RAYNOR'S. 137 
 
 Although Madge was far from knowing 
 by experience what was the life of a conse- 
 crated follower of her Lord and Master, yet 
 the root of the matter was in her, and as she 
 shut her Bible there came to her an awe- 
 stricken consciousness that her " need " was 
 not gold, but grace not the coming into 
 possession of marketable treasures, but the 
 recognition of unvalued blessings that were 
 hers already. She lay awake very late, 
 sometimes resolving to go home and be " so 
 good, helping them all, never acting as if it 
 were not delightful to pinch and scrimp and 
 economize," saying to herself, 
 
 " I will put my whole heart into teaching, 
 and delight Mrs. Allen so that she will find 
 me invaluable. Then I can help father 
 more and more every year, and Ruth can 
 stay with mother." 
 
 Again, as in the Park that evening, she 
 mused with secret self-disgust: 
 
 "What if I do not care anything about 
 Bert Raynor? I do not like any one else, 
 and his people would make my life a perfect 
 holiday, and I should have money to help 
 them all at home. I I can influence Bert
 
 138 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 Raynor; I know all his weak points. He 
 knows mine too, no doubt ; but Abby says I 
 could always get him into mischief if there 
 were any chance for it. Oh dear ! I wish I 
 had stayed at home, or else I just wish I 
 could revel in poverty and make it blossom 
 as the rose. That is what Ruth does."
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 BAD NEWS FOR MADOE. 
 
 " Not wholly is thy heart resigned 
 
 To Heaven's benign and just decree, 
 Which, linking thee with all thy kind, 
 Transmits their joys and griefs to thee. 
 
 " Self-ease is pain ; thy only rest 
 Is labor for a worthy end." 
 
 WHITTIEB. 
 
 "JULY, 18. 
 
 " T\EAR MADGE : You have not writ- 
 U ten us what you have decided to do 
 about coming home. Mother waited to hear 
 from you after getting Cousin Jane's letter ; 
 but when you wrote, we could not make out 
 whether or not you were desirous of accept- 
 ing her invitation. If you want very much 
 to go to the seaside with them, mother is 
 quite willing that you should do so. I can't 
 understand how it is that you do not seem 
 to know your own mind, for you are usually 
 very prompt in your decisions. Of course 
 
 139
 
 140 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 Loraine and I hope that you will come home 
 and help us enjoy ourselves. 
 
 " It seems as if Loraine belongs here, she 
 fits in so well. She gets into father's study 
 and interests herself in his books. (You 
 know she is very well read and her father 
 had a great library.) Well, she stirs up our 
 father to talk, and gets him as animated as 
 possible. She goes fishing with Johnny in 
 the woods while I am helping mother about 
 the house that is, when we positively forbid 
 her dusting and trying to help and after- 
 noons we have charming visits and drives to- 
 gether. Mary Parker comes for us almost 
 every day with her basket-phaeton, and, 
 fortunately, we are each thin enough to get in 
 comfortably. We had a picnic not long ago 
 at Blodgett's Creek, and grandmother went. 
 She let us row her out on the water, and 
 told us about the first picnic that she ever 
 attended, sixty-five years ago. 
 
 " Since coming here Loraine has made up 
 her mind that she would like to be a teacher. 
 (You know that she has plenty of means to 
 live an idle life or to interest herself in any- 
 thing without supporting herself.) One even-
 
 BAD NEWS FOR MADGE. 141 
 
 ing we were invited to a small party at the 
 Barkers'. Miss Elder was there, and, al- 
 though she treated me very coolly, she went 
 out of her way to be agreeable to Loraine. 
 That night, after we came home, Loraine 
 seemed much interested in her as a charac- 
 ter-study. She said it seemed strange that a 
 woman so thoroughly furnished with book- 
 knowledge, with considerable tact and hav- 
 ing very great ambition, should not have 
 been a better teacher. I have never told her 
 of Miss Elder's peculiarities, but she knows 
 that no one speaks or thinks of her as Mrs. 
 Allen's pupils love and reverence her. She 
 asked father why Miss Elder failed, and he 
 evaded telling ; but he did give her his ex- 
 planation of the success of certain other 
 teachers like Mrs. Allen women who them- 
 selves are just what they try to teach young 
 girls to become. Since then Loraine talks to 
 me with mingled fun and earnestness of the 
 institution which she will some time found 
 and preside over. 
 
 "Abby writes that Uncle Henry is just 
 about the same, or, if there is a change, that 
 it is not for the better.
 
 142 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 " Father does not hear of any opening 
 whatever for the future. Mother says that 
 we had better both go back to Mrs. Allen's 
 if she can give us employment; even if I 
 earn less than any other teacher there, it will 
 be something. 
 
 " This is a dull letter, Madge, but I need 
 you to make me lively. The fact is, I am 
 made a little mournful by the very efforts 
 that father and mother make to keep bright 
 and cheerful. They carefully avoid a word 
 about the future, which shows that both are 
 keenly alive to the question, 'What shall a 
 family eat, drink and wear when there is not 
 a penny coming in for food and raiment?' 
 There is such a ' depravity,' too, ' about in- 
 animate things,' as somebody says, in a time 
 like this ! The pump breaks, the corporation 
 sends word that we need a new sidewalk, the 
 chimney blows over and the roof leaks, not 
 to mention that the grate of the kitchen 
 stove has fallen in pieces. But we are all 
 well and the sun shines. I suppose, too, 
 these are just the times when it is intended 
 that we shall take the Bible promises and 
 rest on them."
 
 BAD NEWS FOE MADGE. 143 
 
 There was another sheet of Ruth's letter, 
 but after reading thus far Madge dropped it 
 in her lap, while a shade of annoyance crept 
 over her beautiful face : 
 
 " Ruth must be spiritually-minded if she 
 can keep placid on Bible promises with every- 
 thing about the house giving out. If I could 
 help, I would go right home ; but perhaps I 
 help more by staying away from them. I 
 wonder if I am just drifting, or if I am being, 
 as grandmother says, ' led,' in concluding to 
 go with the Raynors, knowing all I 
 may " 
 
 Madge colored at her own thoughts, and, 
 stooping, picked up the last page of Ruth's 
 letter, written a day later. It began : 
 
 " Oh, Madge, I am so grieved by some- 
 thing I have just heard that I should sit 
 down and cry like a baby if it were not 
 for disheartening poor mother. I know you 
 will feel even worse, for you were sure of 
 your engagement with Mrs. Allen. She has 
 given up her seminary sold it out and 
 leaves the country in a week or two to live 
 abroad indefinitely. You remember her 
 only daughter married a banker in Edin-
 
 144 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 burgh ? Well, she has become a confirmed 
 invalid almost bedridden and there is no 
 one to care for her three little children. 
 Mrs. Allen has decided that her duty is 
 there. Mother had a letter from her last 
 night, and she says that she tried to get us 
 places to teach under the new dispensation 
 at the seminary, but it is to be a Church 
 school in charge of the bishop, and the 
 teachers must be members of the Episcopal 
 Church. This rule, of course, would ex- 
 clude us. In all Mrs. Allen's haste and 
 business plans she is kind as ever, and says 
 she will do her best to find us positions 
 somewhere. We must do something, Madge. 
 There is the district school at Knox Corners ; 
 mother says she thinks one of us might get 
 that through Mr. Parker's influence. I will 
 talk with him. If you can do better, I 
 might manage that." 
 
 For a moment or two Madge could not 
 fully grasp the meaning of what Ruth had 
 written; she seemed to have come suddenly 
 into the stifling folds of a thick curtain 
 dropped across a way she had seen to be 
 open and tolerably pleasant. Could it be
 
 SAD NEWS FOR MADGE. 145 
 
 possible that all those bright school-days 
 were ended? Teaching under Mrs. Allen 
 meant living in a second home and enjoy- 
 ing many things unattainable in her actual 
 home. True, she had come to look at her 
 prospective life there as compulsory on 
 account of the domestic economy, but she 
 had always known that no hardship was 
 involved. Now, when she had lost this 
 future which she supposed was assured to 
 her, it all at once seemed doubly bright 
 and agreeable. 
 
 " The Knox Corners district school ! Oh, 
 horrors !" she gasped as a picture of it rose 
 before her fancy. 
 
 Two miles from the home of the Prestons 
 stood a bare yellow wooden building where 
 the sun glared in summer and around which 
 the winds howled in winter, for not a tree 
 protected it from either the heat or the cold. 
 Often Madge had pitied the teacher pent up 
 there with fifty or more stupid, saucy un- 
 kempt boys and girls of every nationality. 
 She never could submit to such surround- 
 ings never and Ruth was absurd to men- 
 tion it as possible for herself; they were 
 10
 
 146 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 fitted for far finer work than that. But 
 into her hot disgust came the chilling re- 
 flection, 
 
 "Where can we find what we like, and 
 how long can we wait? If we don't get a 
 school in the fall, there is small chance of 
 one for the rest of the year. Oh dear ! 
 why could not Mrs. Allen's daughter stay 
 well ? Why was that bothersome Sedgewick 
 man raised up to displace father? How 
 can people keep patient and believe that all 
 things work together for good, as grand- 
 mother is always saying? I think every- 
 thing with us is working for evil." 
 
 Madge was sitting alone in an elegant lit- 
 tle reception-room. By her great soft easy- 
 chair stood a table of hothouse roses ; with- 
 in reach of her hand a rack of pictures 
 photographs of famous paintings, fine cathe- 
 drals, Swiss and Italian scenery. Against a 
 crimson satin curtain stood a dainty statue 
 visible again in the mirror over the carved 
 wooden mantel. Madge herself was re- 
 flected in that wide glass, and she was not 
 wholly unconscious that she helped to make 
 up a pretty picture. Suppose, instead of
 
 BAD NEWS FOR MADGE. 147 
 
 this " harmony " with her " environment," 
 she were sitting at a battered desk, a dirty 
 spelling-book in her hand, her ears tortured 
 with shrill voices, flies bumping on the cur- 
 tainless windows of the old schoolhonse? 
 No ; she could not, and would not, endure 
 that. 
 
 "Well, this is the first cool spot I have 
 found since morning," exclaimed Bert, with 
 a sigh of satisfaction dropping into a great 
 willow chair. "The street is like a bake- 
 oven. It is high time we were out of the 
 city." 
 
 " We ' !" echoed Madge. " I thought that 
 you stayed here almost all summer. Do gen- 
 tlemen run away from their business ?" 
 
 " That depends. Sometimes the business 
 runs away from the gentlemen as, for in- 
 stance, that of Dr. Lord, over the way." 
 
 "Why, are not people ill here in sum- 
 mer ?" 
 
 "Oh, plenty of vulgar common folks," 
 laughed Bert ; " but Dr. Lord's patients are 
 off for Europe or for the mountains, and he 
 follows. I might find and usually have
 
 148 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 found enough to do, but this summer I 
 think I need a vacation; or, rather, you 
 need me to see that you properly enjoy 
 yours. Mother never climbs mountains or 
 takes sails, or does anything but sit on hotel 
 piazzas and crochet." 
 
 " I have not yet decided to go, Bert." 
 
 " Ah, indeed ! Well, then, neither have 
 I;" and Bert laughed as boyishly as ever. 
 
 "Oh, I can get along beautifully without 
 you, and I fear you may be needed by your 
 your clients, do they call them?" 
 
 " They might be so called if they existed 
 outside one's imagination. But why do you 
 hesitate about going? Homesick?" 
 
 Madge took up a photograph of Dryburgh 
 Abbey and seemed to be studying it a while 
 before she spoke again, saying, 
 
 " Will you go with me to-morrow to one 
 of the educational agencies or bureaus ? I 
 want to apply for a position as a teacher 
 somewhere next September. They have ap- 
 plications for supplies, you know. I have 
 I am not going back to Mrs. Allen's." 
 
 Bert was about to say, " I wish that you 
 did not have to teach," but, remembering the
 
 SAD NEWS FOB MADGE. 149 
 
 Preston finances, he from motives of delica- 
 cy refrained. He guessed without knowing 
 that every year had increased expenses and 
 made living harder for the Professor: 
 
 " Is "Ruth too going to be a little school- 
 marm ?" 
 
 " Not if I can help it." 
 
 " She would make a capital one really, 
 an ideal one," continued Bert. " I can fancy 
 her taking some backwoods ruffians and 
 taming them, when they would pitch a 
 man out of the window. She would do 
 it unconsciously, just as they would submit. 
 Wild beasts never fight a sunbeam : they 
 caress it playfully and try to get into its 
 warmth. You Well, you would do admi- 
 rably with a lot of stylish girls, I presume." 
 
 '* Why ?" asked Madge, without any pique 
 in her tone. 
 
 " Because you are not so fine and spirited 
 as Ruth, but you are genuine after your 
 fashion, and they would like and admire 
 you," returned the young man, thinking, 
 as he always had thought, how pretty Madge 
 was, and how pleasant. She, for her part, 
 paid no attention to his last words, but said,
 
 150 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 " I don't know what rough, ugly natures 
 would become in contact with Ruth, but I 
 know how she would suffer among them." 
 
 " No, she would not : the sunbeam gives, 
 but it does not lose." 
 
 " Nonsense, Bert ! Don't try to be poet- 
 ical ; that is not in you." 
 
 " Very well ; then let us talk about our 
 summer programme. In the daytime we 
 will hunt, fish, swim, climb and soar more 
 or less. In the evening Well, in the 
 hotels the sentimental young people look 
 at the moon." 
 
 "I have had astronomy in my school- 
 course " 
 
 " Exactly, but this is an advanced course 
 looking for the man in the moon, you 
 imow." 
 
 " Why, you are worse when you try to be 
 funny than when you mean to be poeti " 
 
 " Then the other young ladies dance," con- 
 tinued Bert, staring at the stand of roses in 
 a meditative way before he inquired, " Does 
 Ruth dance ?" 
 
 " Oh, we girls at school used to dance in 
 the gymnasium, just as we tried all sorts
 
 SAD NEWS FOR MADGE. 151 
 
 of exercises. You know neither of us has 
 ever had any experience in what is really 
 society." 
 
 " I can't imagine Ruth hot and disheveled 
 bouncing around a dusty ballroom." 
 
 "Ninety-five pounds does not bounce," 
 laughed Madge ; " Ruth would glide. And 
 she never gets disheveled. Are ballrooms 
 always dusty ?" 
 
 "Of course not, and Ruth would look 
 pretty there anywhere, no doubt, But it 
 is easier to think of her teaching clodhop- 
 pers arithmetic. Why, I wonder?" 
 
 Madge did not speak, but both had the 
 same thought. Each felt, " Dancing is right 
 enough, but I don't want to see Ruth dancing 
 in any such place." 
 
 "It is odd how I know Ruth without 
 knowing her. She was too shy when I was 
 first at your house, a great, noisy boy ; the 
 next time she was abroad ; and so I really 
 have seen her but three or four times since 
 we were children, while you are almost like 
 a sister." 
 
 "Yes. Do you know what is the best 
 agency here?"
 
 152 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 " 'Agency' ?" he repeated, blankly. 
 
 "For a teacher, you know, to secure a 
 position." 
 
 " Oh no, but I will find out. I will file an 
 application saying that Minerva herself can 
 be engaged to teach all the sciences, arts and 
 accomplishments. At a thousand dollars a 
 year, is it?" 
 
 "Anything from that down to ten dollars 
 a week, or six and boarding around." 
 
 "That is, I will start Minerva so far on 
 her career if she will decide to-day to spend 
 the summer under mother's wing and with- 
 in the circle of my own benign influence, 
 which will soften the asperities of her tem- 
 per" 
 
 " Why, I think your mother is very ami- 
 able already, considering whose mother she 
 has to be," retorted Madge ; and before Bert 
 could right himself Mrs. Kay nor entered, 
 asking why her husband was late. 
 
 Madge soon ran up stairs to attend to 
 something before dinner, and Bert was left 
 alone with his mother. 
 
 " I thought Madge had decided to go with 
 us," he remarked. " I should think she would
 
 BAD NEWS FOR MADGE. 153 
 
 be more eager in view of the fact that she 
 never has seen anything outside of that 
 little country town and a girls' seminary." 
 
 "I don't understand, myself, for she is 
 very fond of excitement. Perhaps she does 
 not like to be under any fancied obligation 
 to us ; she is as proud as she is poor. I only 
 wish I could do twice as much for her, but I 
 see that I may only go so far without giving 
 offence. She tells me less and less of their 
 family affairs." 
 
 " It is a pity that she must go tossing 
 about the world earning her living. Why 
 don't you just make her live right along 
 with you like a daughter?" 
 
 A peculiar smile passed over his mother's 
 face at Bert's outspoken interest in the 
 young girl. She played with a rose a min- 
 ute before she replied: 
 
 " I am sorry to see such a nice, warm- 
 hearted, handsome girl worried and over- 
 worked and away from home, as she must 
 be, and she hates the prospect too ; I can see 
 that. I like Madge I like the Preston stock 
 but, Bert, there is only one way that she 
 would ever consent to come here as a daugh-
 
 154 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 ter. Don't you know that? Your father 
 and I would be right well pleased if you 
 chose to invite her." 
 
 Abby, remembering the merry, heedless 
 boy whom she used to lecture, coax and scold, 
 would have forgotten Bert's six feet of man- 
 hood had she heard then his old ejaculation, 
 now doubly emphatic : 
 
 " Christopher Columbus !" 
 
 " Don't be excited. I presume she would 
 be equally astonished at the idea if it were 
 too suddenly presented, but it will not hurt 
 you to consider it. Here comes your fa- 
 ther, just in time to save the soup from 
 spoiling." 
 
 That night Cousin Jane by much per- 
 suasion and many arts convinced Madge that 
 she might better spend the summer with her, 
 but she was wise enough to give not the 
 vaguest hint of her as yet baseless plans. 
 Young, restless and ambitious as was Madge, 
 she was thoroughly womanly and not to be 
 grossly tempted into any path leading to the 
 life of luxury which she pictured as so de- 
 lightful. Moreover, Mrs. Kayuor loved her 
 son far too well to dream that any young
 
 BAD NEWS FOR MADGE. 155 
 
 girl would in marrying him think more of 
 his money than of himself; yet just of this 
 last un worthiness did Madge Preston know 
 ^herself to be capable.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IN VANITY FAIR. 
 
 " And if he that firmly purposeth often faileth, what shall 
 he do that seldom or but weakly purpo^eth anything?" 
 THOMAS 1 KEMPIS. 
 
 WITH a philosophy peculiar to natures 
 like her own, Madge Preston resolved 
 to have all the pleasure within her grasp 
 and let the future look out for itself. She 
 was not needed at home, and there was 
 no selfishness in staying away. Accordingly, 
 Madge yielded to Cousin Jane, who under 
 one pretext or another added many dainty 
 little articles to her limited wardrobe, acting 
 quite as if Madge were her daughter. The 
 young girl was pleased and grateful, but in 
 those busy days of trunk-packing she could 
 not help contrasting Cousin Jane, who would 
 discourse a full hour about one dress and its 
 trimmings, with her own mother, who in a 
 talk of that length would have left in 
 
 156
 
 IN VANITY FAIR. 157 
 
 Madge's memory many a thought worth 
 treasuring. It was, however, all charmingly 
 new when once they turned their back on 
 the great cool city-house in which one might 
 easily have been comfortable all summer. 
 They spent a fortnight in steamboat-trips 
 and stage-rides to various watering-places 
 and nooks in the mountains ; then they 
 arrived late one Saturday evening at a 
 mammoth hotel on the seashore where they 
 proposed to stay for the next six or eight 
 weeks. 
 
 Madge was so tired that she did not awake 
 from the time her head touched her pillow 
 until late the next morning. She hurriedly 
 dressed, but it was nearly ten before Cousin 
 Jane and the gentlemen were ready to have 
 breakfast in the great diuing-hall. Groups 
 of ladies in elegant morning- toilets interested 
 Madge only less than the lovely children 
 here and there with their tidy nurses, but 
 by and by she forget these in listening to 
 the animated discussion of several gentle- 
 men near her in regard to certain operas. 
 Mr. Ray nor knew one of the gentlemen, 
 and he and Bert were soon drawn into the
 
 158 THE STLENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 conversation. How ignorant Madge felt in 
 a half-amused, half-puzzled way ! Operas 
 had hitherto seemed to her things apart 
 from every-day life, not matters to be taken 
 so earnestly and talked of as enthusiastically 
 as grand poems or wonderful pictures. 
 
 After breakfast Cousin Jane led Madge 
 out on the enormously wide, long covered 
 piazza facing the water. It was gay with 
 bright awnings and beautified with growing 
 palms, ferns and huge rustic boxes of flow- 
 ers in full bloom. The sun sparkled on the 
 blue, dancing waves ; the space between the 
 hotel and the white sand was an exquisite 
 little lawn sloping down to a shell-like 
 building of crimson and gold where were 
 musical arrangements. Cousin Jane found 
 a cozy seat under a perfect bower of blossoms 
 where they could watch the constant stream 
 of promenaders back and forth on the 
 piazza and the sports of the pretty children 
 or the stretch of sea mirroring the cloudless 
 sky. 
 
 By and by Bert took Madge for a walk 
 along the shore, and the day was half done 
 when he said,
 
 IN VANITY FAIR. 159 
 
 " Now let us go back, or we shall miss the 
 sacred concert. They have one here every 
 Sunday." 
 
 " ' Sunday ' ! Why, Bert, I never once 
 thought that to-day was Sunday ! This has 
 been such a queer week, every day in a new 
 place. It does not seem at all like Sunday," 
 exclaimed Madge, a trace of disapproval in 
 her tone of surprise. 
 
 "Oh, it is exactly like all Sundays here, 
 and better than in many places quieter, I 
 mean. There are not many such Sundays 
 kept as you are used to, Madge," returned 
 Bert, dropping on a bench, forgetful of his 
 proposal to return to the piazza, " but, all 
 the same, I like them best. If I How 
 well I remember thinking that on Sunday 
 mornings the birds in Hempstead sang 
 hymns and everything out of doors seemed 
 in some way fresher and sweeter than on 
 common days ! Then your mother made 
 me come to breakfast in my ' best clothes,' 
 and we all had a thanksgiving verse to 
 season Abby's muffins. Then grandmother 
 used to inveigle me into reading her some- 
 thing good before church or after, probably,
 
 160 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 just as I was taking myself off for mischief. 
 I never reflected at the time how regularly 
 her eyesight failed on Sundays or how much 
 better adapted to my mind than to hers was 
 the reading she selected. Bless her ! I got 
 from her an idea that angels were old ladies 
 with sugar-plums in their pockets and soft 
 ways of putting their wrinkled hands on 
 your head and making you sorry, when 
 your father or mine would have prescribed 
 a thrashing. Sunday was a holy day in 
 your home it is now, of course or did it 
 only seem so to us children?" 
 
 Madge murmured, 
 
 " Yes, it is different from this, and very 
 old-fashioned. Out in the world it seems 
 so, I mean." 
 
 Madge was wondering, in case she could 
 wholly approve of the Sunday that she 
 found " iiew-fashioned," whether she would 
 like it as well was mentally contrasting 
 the gay hotel, the stylish people, the talk of 
 operas, fashion, travel and business, the romp- 
 ing children and the sacred concert, with the 
 reality at home this very moment, her people 
 in the old pew by the open window where the
 
 IN VANITY FAIR. 161 
 
 willow swayed and the birds that Bert told 
 of sang not out of harmony with the prayer 
 and song within. Listening to the good old 
 Mr. Edgecomb did make one feel " sorry " 
 for one's evil-doing, quite as Bert said of 
 grandmother's hand. Yes, it would be 
 pleasant, Madge thought, this very day to 
 sit down with B-uth and Loraine in her own 
 room and talk as girls will of their hopes 
 and failures. 
 
 " You are a member of the church, aren't 
 you ?" asked Bert, suddenly. 
 
 "Yes; I joined after Ruth came from 
 Europe. I made up my mind that if she 
 lived through that dreadful fever she had 
 there I would try to be a Christian, for she 
 had asked me to try before she sailed." 
 
 " Same year I took myself in hand ; but I 
 have not made much of a success of it. I 
 wonder if the difference in Christians is 
 largely a matter of temperament or chiefly 
 of circumstances?" mused Bert, drawing 
 maps in the sand with his cane. 
 
 " Not so much of circumstances, I imag- 
 ine, as of temperament," said Madge, watch- 
 ing a tiny gleaming sail. " I am not in a 
 11
 
 162 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 Sunday frame of mind to-day, but I need 
 not think it is because of my unusual sur- 
 roundings; I have been just as worldly- 
 minded in church at home. Ruth's circum- 
 stances have usually been the same as mine, 
 but she" 
 
 " Is a different type of a Christian ?" sug- 
 gested Bert. 
 
 "Yes, as different from me as as the 
 Sabbath in Hempstead is from the Sunday 
 here," replied Madge ; adding, "And I can't 
 tell whether or not I approve of this Sun- 
 day." 
 
 " What made you say ' Sabbath ' there 
 and ' Sunday ' here ?" 
 
 " Because I know they are remembering 
 the Sabbath day to keep it holy, and the 
 holiness of this Sunday is not so appar- 
 ent." 
 
 "Perhaps the difference in some Chris- 
 tians is parallel holy-day Christians hold- 
 ing to a plain commandment, and holiday 
 Christians bound to have all the fun there 
 is going." 
 
 "Our folks are not glum, Bert; they like 
 fun, as you know."
 
 IN VANITY FAIR. 163 
 
 " Verily they do, I can testify." 
 
 Madge heard the first strains of a full or- 
 chestra and knew the sacred concert was 
 beginning, but Bert was in a brown study. 
 Finally he said, 
 
 " I don't know what we set out to prove 
 or to disprove ; never mind, any way. You 
 have been so religiously brought up, Madge, 
 that I suppose everything is clear to you. 
 Probably you don't have my difficulties. I 
 do not mean doubts or skepticism of any sort. 
 I believe the Bible because I can't see how 
 any one can be fool enough to reject it whol- 
 ly or in part, but Well, I am not much 
 of a Christian, Madge, as you can see for 
 yourself, and this you may not understand 
 sometimes I say to myself if Christianity is 
 all that some Christians say it is to them, 
 why I know precious little about it ; but if I 
 have all there is to have, I don't feel satis- 
 fied, that is all." 
 
 Bert was speaking with a half-suppressed 
 earnestness new in him and simply unintel- 
 ligible to Madge. She looked at him won- 
 deringly, then looked away again to the sunlit 
 sail, and was silent, secretly wishing that he
 
 164 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 would remember the entrancing music they 
 were losing. This child of many prayers 
 did not realize that she, having " need of 
 nothing " spiritual, was therefore " poor and 
 blind," while the one by her side, vainly 
 seeking help of her, was hearing and long- 
 ing to heed, not the music of an hour, but 
 the voice of Him who says, " Behold I stand 
 at the door and knock : if any man hear my 
 voice and open the door, I will come in to 
 him." 
 
 " Your mother is waving her handker- 
 chief to us to return," said Madge, after 
 a while ; so they went back. 
 
 The next few weeks passed like a dream. 
 Madge had not a care, a responsibility nor an 
 ungratified whim. Life seemed a lotus-eat- 
 ing existence made up of successive pleas- 
 ures coming without thought or labor. There 
 was, of course, nothing wrong in the fact 
 that she enjoyed most heartily all this new 
 ease and luxury. She spent hours " on the 
 piazza " with Cousin Jane, finding time to 
 read there a number of charming books; 
 she had long pleasant drives around a pict- 
 uresque region of country, and sweet cool
 
 IN VANITY FAIR. 165 
 
 mornings or long hazy afternoons for excur- 
 sions on the water. Such diversions so occu- 
 pied the first few weeks that she did not make 
 acquaintance with many persons with whom 
 she came into social relations of any intimacy. 
 She petted the beautiful children, and the 
 old ladies, moved by a singular impulse, 
 petted Madge herself. A few merry boys 
 found her a comrade worth encouragement. 
 Cousin Jane was pleased at the compliments 
 bestowed on her charge, and duly reported 
 them to Bert and to her husband, who were 
 equally pleased at hearing them. 
 
 About the middle of August the hotel 
 received a large accession of fashionable peo- 
 ple who had spent the first half of the 
 season elsewhere. To many of these the 
 Raynors were known, to others they were 
 soon introduced, and all at once Madge found 
 herself one of a " select set of society girls," 
 as Cousin Jane called them. 
 
 "I knew this would happen, little girl," 
 said that lady, in her half-coaxing, half- 
 matter-of-fact way, " and so I made a little 
 extra provision for it;" and forthwith she 
 brought out, as she saw the occasion required,
 
 166 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 laces, sashes or gloves, paying no heed to 
 Madge's mingled thanks and protests. 
 
 "I don't like to take them," thought 
 Madge, "but, being here, how else can I 
 do? I should mortify her if I kept to 
 these poor little trumperies that mother 
 thought would be all-sufficient. Dear moth- 
 er ! her idea of a summer at the seaside could 
 not have been much like the reality." 
 
 This reality for Madge was a new turn of 
 the kaleidoscope, bringing before her fashion, 
 folly, envy and giddy haste for the latest 
 excitement ; but every phase of each was so 
 delicately exhibited, so in half light or deep 
 shadow, that nothing was startling, or even 
 repulsive. If insensibly Madge came to lis- 
 ten without aversion to the witty worldliness, 
 the playful earnestness, of other young girls 
 who believed poverty to be the curse of curses, 
 and called poverty the lot of all men and 
 women who worked for anything but pleas- 
 ure, who wore plain garments or who lived 
 out of their world, why it was because her 
 eyes were dazzled and she was ignorant of 
 the best and over-impressed by glitter and 
 show, as are scores of girls every day.
 
 IN VANITY FAIR. 167 
 
 Little by little she was drawn into doing 
 and saying things that her best judgment 
 would not have sanctioned had she stopped 
 in her gayety long enough to think. Once. 
 in a while, when Bert looked at her with a 
 certain mild surprise, she assured herself: 
 "This is not just according to the family 
 traditions. They are all correct, but Hemp- 
 stead is a little country-town, and we are 
 very quiet as a family. I shall be none the 
 less proper and contented for a little dissipa- 
 tion here." 
 
 Bert was always at Madge's command for 
 a walk, a sail or a drive, although lie seemed 
 much less fond of gaslight festivities than 
 Madge would have imagined him to be. 
 He said that he had left the city to be out 
 of doors and to have leisure to himself. 
 His mother teased him about growing old 
 before his time when for men of his fa- 
 ther's age he neglected the young people 
 who danced. 
 
 Among the new-comers was a family of 
 Ventnors, very haughty and reserved. Mrs. 
 Ventnor was a large, strong-featured lady 
 with white curls piled in a majestic fashion
 
 168 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 on each side of her severe countenance. 
 Mr. Ventnor always reminded Madge of the 
 fabled frog trying to swell to an abnormal 
 size, while for Miss Ventnor she felt a strong 
 dislike. The latter was as handsome as 
 faultless features could possibly be when 
 expressionless with studied "repose." The 
 mother recognized the Raynors, but never 
 saw Madge. Miss Maude seemed just con- 
 scious enough of her insignificant presence 
 not to walk over her if she chanced to be in 
 the Ventnor way in hall or in parlor; at 
 the end of a week each heartily detested the 
 other. Miss Ventnor secretly resented the 
 " impudence of a nobody " in being so 
 pretty that " everybody " admired her, so 
 merrily winning that Miss Ventnor's own 
 favored friends liked to chat with her by the 
 half hour with a girl whose whole ward- 
 robe could not have cost as much as the 
 ruffle around Miss Ventuor's jeweled hand. 
 How Madge read the young lady's pique 
 behind her calm countenance only a girl 
 could tell, but an evil spirit took possession 
 of Madge, and soon her own pleasure-seek- 
 ing was secondary to her desire to thwart
 
 IN VANITY FAIR. 169 
 
 and annoy this Miss Ventnor. So quietly 
 and with such exquisite art did she set to 
 work that nobody dreamed that certain little 
 events did not fall out by chance. Time af- 
 ter time the person with whom Maude had 
 decided to talk, to walk or to dance gravi- 
 tated toward Madge. Unable to endure this, 
 and sure of one weapon that she could wield, 
 Maude allowed some one to bring about an 
 introduction between them. Whenever after 
 that she spoke to Madge, it was to ask her 
 if she had done or seen or enjoyed some- 
 thing possible only to people of wealth, and 
 twice Madge was made to hear a sentence or 
 two about some one who was " rather pretty ; 
 Mrs. Raynor's companion a governess, I be- 
 lieve." How angry Madge was ! How full 
 her heart of really unreasonable spite ! Was 
 she not poor ? and if not exactly a governess, 
 was she not the next thing to that a teacher- 
 elect, perhaps, of the " Knox Corners dis- 
 trict school" ? But she did not remember 
 this did not consider how her gentle moth- 
 er would have shown her the absurdity of 
 her own attempts at social rivalry and all 
 the unloveliness of her conduct.
 
 170 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 It was an exciting game, and a little suc- 
 cess iii it turned Madge's head ; but as days 
 ran by it became evident to Madge that Miss 
 Ventnor's position and social triumphs were, 
 after all, something as far apart from her 
 own life and pursuits as the Ventnor dia- 
 monds were from Professor Preston's best 
 ten-year-old coat. In the estimation of all 
 these elegant women and genial men and 
 gay young people she was just a pleasant 
 little nobody, and Miss Ventnor was an 
 heiress whose parents gave grand receptions 
 in their winter city-house and cruised in 
 their yacht or went abroad to spend the 
 summers. What was it that made the dif- 
 ference? Madge said, "Money." 
 
 It was curious and to one who loved 
 her it would have been alarming how con- 
 stantly of late the once-careless, light-hearted 
 Madge was letting all her thoughts brood 
 over money, money. In her own home the 
 lack of money was beginning to be felt, but 
 there all were trying to cast their care on the 
 Father in heaven, striving to be grateful, 
 without a fear for daily bread even if the fu- 
 ture might bring want. Not so with Madge.
 
 IN VANITY FAIR. 171 
 
 Having food and raiment was " not much ;" 
 wealth could afford so much more. 
 
 After such a mood of discontent only 
 too common nowadays there came to the 
 young girl the whisper of a temptation 
 which still made her blush for shame.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 GRANDMA'S BIRTHDAY. 
 
 * In God's good time his gentle grace, 
 
 Like sun and dew and rain, 
 Will make his green wheat-ears all ripe 
 And full of golden grain." 
 
 GRANDMOTHER GREY awoke one 
 
 ^T morning when the east was just crim- 
 soned with the glory of dawn, and when the 
 birds in the trees by her window were 
 twittering with joy over the new day. She 
 did not fall asleep again, but for full an 
 hour mused on a solemn little secret or 
 she thought it a secret : nobody had remem- 
 bered that this was her eightieth birthday. 
 
 " Goodness and mercy have followed me 
 all the days of my life," she murmured as a 
 picture rose before her of her childhood 
 home as it was seventy years before & 
 sunny old mansion standing back from a 
 
 172
 
 GRANDMA'S BIRTHDAY. 173 
 
 New England common herself a child 
 frolicking down a garden-walk between rows 
 of white lilies almost as tall as herself. She 
 could see as if it were yesterday her beauti- 
 ful fair-haired mother coming smiling to 
 meet her with hands full of birthday-gifts 
 those tender hands that a few months 
 later were folded on her lifeless breast. 
 
 "Poor little one!" sighed grandmother, 
 as if her former self had been some other 
 child. " She walked over thorns after that 
 oftener than among lilies, but the Good 
 Shepherd led her and never once left her to 
 suffer alone." Year by year she reviewed 
 the time, finding such precious memories 
 crowding on her that her faded eyes kept 
 filling with grateful tears. " How many old 
 people are ill and neglected in their old age, 
 and are made to feel themselves a burden !" 
 she reflected ; "and here am I petted like a 
 spoiled child by my child and her children. 
 O my God, how good thou art to leave me 
 in an earthly home so bright, and then to 
 give me the promise of a ' house not made 
 with hands, eternal in the heavens ' I" 
 
 When, by and by, the sunshine flooded
 
 174 THE SrLENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 the room and she heard the family astir, 
 grandmother went searching for her work- 
 dress that she might go and help a little in 
 the morning duties, now that Abby was 
 away. But Ruth was too quick for her. 
 There was a tap at her door, and in came 
 the laughing girl, saying, 
 
 " I suppose, grandmother, you would pre- 
 fer to take your eighty kisses with intervals 
 between ? Oh, you sly grandmother ! How 
 still you have kept about your birthday ! 
 Did you think you could cheat us out of it 
 after all these years ?" 
 
 " Why, dear child, ' after all these years,' 
 as you say, it does seem foolish to be making 
 any fuss over a poor old woman." 
 
 "No; don't touch that old dress to-day. 
 I have come to be your maid of honor," ex- 
 claimed Ruth, producing a new soft drab- 
 colored gingham and a snowy muslin cap, 
 in which she insisted that the old lady should 
 array herself. " It is only an every-day 
 dress, and I hope you will not laugh at my 
 cap. I would never venture to make you 
 anything but a morning one." 
 
 "It is pretty enough for a party, Ruth,"
 
 GRANDMA 'S SIRTHDA Y. 1 75 
 
 cried grandma, in a little tremor of surprise 
 and pleasure, which continued while Ruth 
 kept up her affectionate compliments as she 
 arranged the new dress and the dainty cap. 
 
 The girls were quite right in thinking 
 grandma a very handsome old lady, and 
 their merry praises of her beauty made her 
 blush sometimes as if she were eighteen. 
 She had lost all vanity long years ago, but 
 their loving playfulness in this way often 
 made her feel as if sunshine were falling on 
 her. To the very old, as to the very young, 
 little demonstrations mean far more than 
 they do to the rest of the world. They 
 mean love, and in the beginning and the 
 end of life it is hard doing without that, 
 however one may make shift in the days 
 between. 
 
 " There ! now you are fit to see the queen, 
 and she might feel herself honored to meet 
 you. Come;" and Ruth led the old lady 
 out into the dining-room, where everybody 
 had a greeting for her, where was a glass 
 full of pansies at her plate and in her chair 
 a little heap of gifts. There was nothing 
 costly a copy of the Psalms in very big
 
 176 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 print wrapped in a fine handkerchief from 
 Loraine, a box of peppermint-lozenges from 
 Johnny and a flask of cologne from the 
 Professor. From Madge had come gloves, 
 and then the two girls had united to 
 give grandmother a pretty surprise. Long 
 put away as useless was a quaint bead bag 
 which she had carried when a child. It 
 was, in part, unharmed by time; so they 
 relined it with a soft-hued silk, slightly 
 changed its shape, and there as a handker- 
 chief-case, whole, fresh, yet almost the same, 
 was the ancient bag with the faint perfume 
 that it had never seemed to lose. The 
 hundred dollars in gold had not given her 
 quite so keen a pleasure as the sight of those 
 pink, purple and amber beads woven into 
 curious flowers. It was a bit of long-ago 
 come back to her, like the picture of the 
 child in the garden. 
 
 After breakfast and prayers Mary Parker 
 came to take grandmother, and "nobody 
 else," for a morning drive. She knew by 
 confidences yesterday given that while the 
 old lady was being refreshed by the ride 
 past summer fields and along the river Ruth
 
 GRANDMA'S BIRTHDAY. 177 
 
 and Loraine were to be making some ex- 
 travagant preparations to give grandmother 
 a later surprise in the way of a little tea- 
 party. The minister and his wife, her old 
 friend the doctor and the Parkers were to 
 come for a visit. 
 
 The moment grandma was out of sight 
 the girls dusted and decked the rooms with 
 fresh flowers, and made them sweet and cool 
 before they besieged the kitchen. Here 
 Loraine was not of quite so much use as 
 was Ruth, and so, under pretext of going to 
 the post-office, she visited the market and add- 
 ed to the simple preparations a generous sup- 
 ply of delicious fruit and some other delica- 
 cies seldom allowed by the economical house- 
 wife. Every day Loraiue was sunning her- 
 self in the genial warmth of this home-love 
 into which she had entered. The Professor 
 began to call her his third daughter, and 
 Mrs. Preston was winning the confidence 
 that Loraine might have given her own 
 mother. 
 
 Grandmother came home a little weary 
 with her unusual exercise, and after dinner 
 took a long refreshing nap. It was after
 
 378 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 five when, dressing herself with a little ex- 
 tra daintiness to please Ruth, she walked 
 out of her own room into the parlor and 
 encountered jolly old Dr. Hickox and the 
 gentle, white-haired minister, Mr. Edgecomb, 
 with his sweet little wife, who always made 
 Loraine think of a " flower pressed in a 
 Bible." 
 
 " She is just so delicate, pink and white 
 still, and, if wrinkled a bit with age, keeps 
 a kind of perfume of youth," was Loraine's 
 comment. 
 
 The doctor was seventy-five, and one of 
 the old lady's firmest friends for the reason 
 that he had known Grandmother Grey 
 when he was a boy. They had been neigh- 
 bors in the beautiful old New England town. 
 He never spent any time in her society with- 
 out going back to " old times " and making 
 her merry and sad by turns. 
 
 The two girls were very busy until after 
 tea, because the whole care of that devolved 
 on them ; Mrs. Preston was banished to the 
 parlor. But after supper was over and Mrs. 
 Edgecomb had sipped her tea out of an egg- 
 shell china cup almost a hundred years old,
 
 GRANDMA 'S BIR THDA Y. 179 
 
 and Dr. Hickox had " tried " a sixth bis- 
 cuit just because Ruth made them, and 
 everybody was settled again for an evening 
 chat, when Loraine said, 
 
 "I hope they will get on the old times, 
 as you say they always do." 
 
 " Never you fear," whispered Ruth, nest- 
 ling into a corner of the deep sofa, whose 
 cover she had that morning ingeniously 
 patched. 
 
 Dr. Hickox, who was looking over some 
 books, suddenly turned to the old lady, 
 asking, 
 
 " Patience, do you remember the copy of 
 Young's Night Thoughts that Deacon Alford 
 gave you for being the best reader of blank 
 verse in the school ?" 
 
 " Indeed I do ! And how many hours I 
 spent behind the counters in my father's 
 book-store reading anything I liked, though 
 a vigilant eye was kept on me to see that I 
 got nothing improper !" replied the old lady, 
 adding parenthetically, " I kept a book called 
 The Haunted Castle hid, when I was not 
 secretly using it, in hop-jars and meal-bins, 
 until I had read it through."
 
 180 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 '' Fancy such naughtiness in her !" laughed 
 Loraine. 
 
 " How many a time I have seen Dr. Tag- 
 gart, from the Hill, poking over dusty vol- 
 umes there ! Don't you know how he would 
 put a roll of papers under his arm and wad- 
 dle away to the door? Then, mounted on 
 his fat nag, he would begin to read, and the 
 old horse would soon stop to eat grass. If a 
 passer-by spoke to him, the doctor would 
 take out his pocket-knife to cut a switch, 
 forget his iptention, and ride on reading, 
 with the knife raised in the air." 
 
 " Oh, I could tell no end of stories of his 
 absent-mindedness," said grandmother. " We 
 laughed at them, but he was so devout, 
 learned and genial that we loved and re- 
 spected him. My greatest trial was being 
 sober-minded in the church when he 
 preached for us." 
 
 "Yes, in the old white steepleless church 
 with red doors and the big sounding-board 
 that I always expected would fall some day 
 and completely extinguish good old Roger 
 Newton in his full-bettomed wig and small 
 clothes."
 
 GRANDMA'S BIRTHDAY. 181 
 
 " Do you remember," added grandmother, 
 " the square pews with seats around the side 
 that let down with such a clatter when the 
 people rose for prayers ? We children had 
 chairs in the middle. How, when Dr. Tag- 
 gart preached, he used to twist the great tas- 
 sels on the pulpit-cushion ! and many a time 
 in praying he would turn with shut eyes 
 and outstretched hand to sweep the loud- 
 buzzing flies off the window just behind 
 him." 
 
 " Mrs. David Eipley told me," continued 
 Dr. Hick ox, "that being at her house one 
 morning, having prayers in the large kitch- 
 en, the pot on the hook boiled over. Parson 
 Taggart walked to it, swung forward the 
 crane and went praying back to his place." 
 
 " Yet a more truly reverent man never 
 lived, and he was mighty in prayer. Such 
 a thing was really nothing, compared with the 
 irreverence of studied solemnity of manner 
 and a mind wandering in prayer to the ends 
 of the earth," said the old lady. 
 
 " Eighty years old to-day, are you ?" 
 mused the old doctor. "Well, I was at your 
 thirteenth-birthday party, and we played a
 
 182 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 game called 'King and Queen.' What a 
 beautiful old parlor that seemed in your 
 house ! I wonder if it really was so fine ?" 
 
 " Yes," said grandmother, gravely. " It 
 had orange, green and wood-colored chintz 
 hangings with heavy fringe, great sofa with 
 pillows like the curtains, brass andirons, 
 silver candlesticks, coat-of-arms over the 
 mantel-piece, semicircular tables and the 
 glass-doored china closet filled with most 
 beautiful little cups and pitchers, that are 
 coming into fashion now." 
 
 "And I suppose, Patience, if we last long 
 enough, we may come into fashion too," said 
 the jolly old doctor. 
 
 " We are going to last for ever," replied 
 grandmother, clasping her wrinkled hands 
 in her gentle earnestness; "and when I 
 think how the fashion of this world passeth 
 away and old friends drop out of our lives 
 and never return here below, I love to think 
 of Bunyan's saying : ' The thought of what 
 I am going to and of the convoy that waits 
 for me on the other side doth lie as a glow- 
 ing coal at my heart. I am going to see 
 that Head that was crowned with thorn?
 
 GRANDMA'S BIRTHDAY. 183 
 
 I have lived by faith, but I go where I shall 
 live by sight. I have loved to hear my 
 Lord spoken of; and wherever I have seen 
 the print of his shoe in the earth, there I 
 have coveted to set my foot too. His name 
 has been to me as a civet-box yea, sweeter 
 than all perfume. He has held me ; yea, my 
 steps have been strengthened in the way.' " 
 
 " Does your life seem long to you as you 
 look back over it, Mrs. Grey?" asked the 
 minister, after a little hush. 
 
 Grandma laughed softly as she answered : 
 
 " I have a sampler that I worked seventy 
 years ago, and it seems like last week the 
 day I finished it and my father gave me a 
 string of gold beads. Then, again, remem- 
 bering the scores of friends who have fallen 
 by the way, I feel sometimes like a pilgrim 
 on an endless march. But how foolishly I 
 am taking all your time in talking about 
 myself! They spoil me here, and no won- 
 der that I get childish." 
 
 The doctor made some absurd speech 
 about regretting when it was too late that 
 he had told his own age, and the minister 
 and his wife contributed some reminiscences
 
 184 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 of theirs to the general entertainment; the 
 Parkers were cultivated people who always 
 had something to say worth hearing, and so 
 the little birthday-party went off cheerily. 
 Nobody thought it out of place when at the 
 last grandmother asked them all to stay for 
 prayers. They joined in singing, 
 
 " My faith looks up to thee, thou Lamb of Calvary." 
 
 The doctor's heavy base and Mrs. Edgecomb's 
 slightly-cracked and grandmother's quaver- 
 ing tones may not have made perfect har- 
 mony with the girls' fresh voices, but Loraine 
 thought it very sweet. If the reading of 
 the psalm and the earnest prayer that fol- 
 lowed made it an " old-fashioned " sort of 
 a social visit, nobody (in Madge's absence) 
 found out that fact, but everybody in the old 
 yellow house went to bed tired and happy, 
 while the Parkers, returning to their grand- 
 er home, declared that the Prestons knew how 
 to entertain their friends most sensibly. 
 
 Loraine sat silent in much thought after 
 the tea-party, until at last Ruth playfully 
 accused her of " naughtiness."
 
 GRANDMA'S BIRTHDAY. 185 
 
 "Mother used to say that Madge never 
 sat meditating unless she was planning mis- 
 chief, while in my case it was usually re- 
 morse for evil committed." 
 
 " Conscience has nothing to do with my 
 reflections this time," laughed Loraine. "I 
 was thinking what an inquisitive man Mr. 
 Parker must be." 
 
 " Why, I never thought that of him." 
 
 " Well, perhaps he has always known 
 about you. The other evening he asked me 
 every imaginable question about my studies 
 at Mrs. Allen's which of them I preferred, 
 which I excelled in, what were my theories 
 of teaching, provided I had any, and 
 Well, I can't begin to remember the cate- 
 chism that I was put through politely, of 
 course, and no question was too personal. 
 But it puzzles me to know why he should 
 be so interested in my education." 
 
 " Oh, he is interested in all such matters. 
 Mary is a graduate of Wellesley, and he likes 
 to compare the methods and systems of various 
 seminaries and colleges. I hear he says, now 
 that he is re-elected a trustee of the acad- 
 emy, that there shall be some radical reforms.
 
 186 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 Mary says that after Madge told him what 
 she did tell that day on the piazza he made 
 thorough investigations, and convinced him- 
 self that Miss Elder needed to raise the 
 standard both of scholarship and of honor 
 in the girls' department. I am afraid that 
 father would not have approved of Madge's 
 revelations or, rather, that he would fear she 
 felt revengeful toward Miss Elder; but all 
 Madge said was true, and Mr. Parker is too 
 discreet to mention her name, so perhaps 
 good for the school may come out of all the 
 changes." 
 
 "Does not your father mean to teach 
 anywhere the coming year ?" asked Loraine, 
 who had begun to feel the undercurrent of 
 apprehensive thought in the family-life. 
 She longed to be of some help, but could 
 think of no way that was at all practical. 
 
 "Father has not made any engagement 
 yet," was all Ruth's answer, her face grow- 
 ing grave with the thought that in three 
 weeks all the schools would open, and prob- 
 ably it was even then far too late to think 
 that the Professor could get a position. 
 
 Loraine, somewhat to Ruth's relief, said
 
 GRANDMA'S BIRTHDAY. 187 
 
 nothing more ; but when the latter left the 
 room, she fell to planning something where- 
 by the girls could help themselves. She 
 wondered if they three might not in some 
 near town start together a school for chil- 
 dren. She herself had means to hire proper 
 rooms, and to carry on such an enterprise 
 until it could get a good footing. The 
 longer she thought of this scheme, the more 
 feasible it seemed ; for if one girl was needed 
 at home, the other surely was not, and with 
 either of them Loraine was sure that she 
 could succeed. Ruth would win the hearts 
 of the children by her sweetness; Madge 
 would carry everything before her with her 
 usual impetuosity. 
 
 " I will go and talk it over with Mary 
 Parker. She has excellent judgment, and 
 could look at the chances of success or fail- 
 ure more impartially than either. Ruth or I," 
 said Loraiue to herself. She put on her hat 
 and gloves, told Mrs. Preston that she was 
 going for a little stroll, and hurried away 
 before Ruth missed her. 
 
 Mary Parker was at home, and took her 
 guest to her own pretty room. Loraine,
 
 188 THE UILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 seated in a dainty willow chair, chatted 
 about indifferent things a little while, but 
 soon unfolded to Mary her new ideas. She 
 made only the most delicate allusion to the 
 Prestons' circumstances, knowing that Mary 
 must understand all without words, having 
 always known the family. 
 
 Before Loraine had quite finished Mary 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " It is very queer that you should have 
 been thinking of something that in another 
 shape has exercised father for the last week. 
 This very day I was to ask you to come here 
 and give him an interview." 
 
 Loraine looked surprised, not being able 
 to guess what part Mr. Parker could take in 
 her scheme. 
 
 " I will give you an idea of what he is 
 thinking," said Mary, " and then we will go 
 down and talk to him in the library. Soon 
 after father was put in office again as a trus- 
 tee he called on Miss Elder, after consult- 
 ing with the other trustees, and told her 
 plainly of some of the abuses that had crept 
 into her department, and which must be 
 corrected. She was very deferential, seem-
 
 GRANDMA'S BIRTHDAY. 189 
 
 ing so pained and shocked by some of fa- 
 ther's statements that, though he knew they 
 were well founded, he was gentler with her 
 than he meant to be ; and he came home sure 
 that she would do better. Well, Mr. Sedge- 
 wick, who has been here several times and has 
 now come to stay he had a few talks with 
 her about school- matters. It is evident to 
 him and to father that she did not like him 
 at all. She fancied he would feel that he 
 owed his place to her diplomacy and be very 
 grateful to her ; on the contrary, he assur- 
 ed her that he never should have accepted 
 the position had he understood the state of 
 affairs with Professor Preston. To him also 
 she was very bland, but early in July she 
 began to look for another position, which she 
 secured almost immediately: it is an engage- 
 ment to teach in a Western school at a much 
 larger salary than she has here. Father 
 does not blame her for trying to better her- 
 self, but it has been a little spiteful in her to 
 keep this a profound secret until four days 
 ago, so making the trustees lose a month or 
 six weeks in which they could have secured 
 a lady for her place. Well, the moment
 
 190 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 father told me I said, ' Oh, can't you get in 
 one of the Professor's girls? Both Madge 
 and Ruth are well educated, perfectly com- 
 petent to teach all that Miss Elder taught, 
 and everybody knows that they are ladies re- 
 fined and high principled " 
 
 " Indeed they are !" cried Loraine. "And 
 after what Miss Elder did to the Professor 
 it would seem simple justice. What did 
 your father say?" 
 
 " Well, you know," replied Mary, wisely 
 nodding her pretty head, "men never see 
 such things in a flash as women do : they see 
 ' considerations,' as they call them. In the 
 first place, he said that, while we appreciated 
 the girls, the other trustees would see in 
 them 'raw material ' tmly. Ruth, whom he 
 thought to be the older, was shy in her man- 
 ner : would she have force enough to control 
 high-spirited pupils ? Madge had sufficient 
 energy, but she is so erratic sometimes. He 
 feared that the trustees would find their lack 
 of experience a great objection, though I 
 told him that Madge had taught a little in 
 one department of Mrs. Allen's school, and 
 was to have been regularly engaged."
 
 GRANDMA'S BIRTHDAY. 191 
 
 Loraine grew sober as Mary proceeded ; 
 and when she ceased, as if she had said all 
 there was to be said, she was too much dis- 
 appointed to remember that Mr. Parker 
 must have something further to propose if 
 she had rightly understood Mary. 
 
 As Loraine asked no question, Mary, look- 
 ing a little embarrassed, continued : 
 
 " Father said that if you, Miss Faye, were 
 a candidate, there would not be the least 
 trouble. You are older, and you have more 
 of what we schoolgirls used laughingly to 
 call ' presence.' You have been a postgrad- 
 uate and have taught somewhat, have you 
 not?" 
 
 " Yes, but I do not need to teach, and to 
 take a place here when the girls are so per- 
 plexed" 
 
 " I understand exactly," said Mary, hur- 
 riedly. "But what did occur at last to 
 father as feasible if only you agreed and 
 perhaps it would seem absurd to you " 
 
 " Go on, do !" laughed Loraine. 
 
 " No doubt that you could get in other 
 places a larger salary than Miss Elder re- 
 ceived here; but if Madge or Ruth could be
 
 192 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 accepted, father says he would have to 
 struggle hard to keep the trustees from 
 reducing the salary. Now, Miss Elder was 
 really a little overworked or, rather, she 
 would "have been if she had been faithful to 
 all her scholars. Father says if you could be 
 persuaded to take the lady-principal's posi- 
 tion he might get either Ruth or Madge in 
 with you as an under-teacher ; Mr. Sedgewick 
 is very solicitous to have two teachers in 
 Miss Elder's place. Your salary would not be 
 large, and the other lady's would be less, but 
 after a year, perhaps, you might want to 
 resign ; then the other Preston sister might 
 come in, and the first be promoted. Now, 
 of course nothing but friendship would 
 influence you if you should be induced to 
 undertake this." 
 
 " Two things would induce me yes, would 
 be a downright temptation, Mary," exclaimed 
 Loraine, her face kindling with a brightness 
 that made it positively beautiful. "I should 
 have an aim in life, something that I ought 
 to do well and something well worth doing 
 to raise, as you say, the standard of scholar- 
 ship and of character here among the Hemp-
 
 GRANDMA 'S BIRTHDA Y. 1 93 
 
 stead young girls, and to be of real use to 
 Madge and Ruth. The salary is nothing to 
 me. I am not rich at all, if it is a question 
 of actual wealth, but I have enough to live 
 on in idleness all my life ; which, please God, 
 I never will do. Now, if your father could 
 get two of us into that place, let him be the 
 one to pay the salaries, and let us together 
 manage that to suit ourselves. Two-thirds 
 of mine can be judiciously applied to my 
 assistant, and nobody but your father and I 
 be the wiser. On that one condition I will 
 gladly take the place if I can get it. I 
 shall be doing nothing generous, either, 
 Mary ; for in this way I can stay on in a 
 home. You don't know what a forlorn 
 feeling has come over me at the thought of 
 leaving the Preston s. Grandmother has 
 been a gospel to me ; until I knew her I 
 never dared to believe that I was a Christian. 
 She has taught me to think in such a strange 
 new way about Christ himself that every 
 day's living is all different is just trusting 
 and being helped, giving thanks and wish- 
 ing to draw somebody else into the light. I 
 would not have dared to teach six months 
 
 13
 
 194 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 yes, three months ago. I was alone then 
 in the world, without a friend who was in 
 any sense a helper." 
 
 Mary took Loraine's hand in a warm 
 clasp and kissed her for the first time ; then 
 she said, 
 
 " Now let us go down to father." 
 Mr. Parker was glad to enter on a 
 thorough discussion of the subject, and be- 
 fore they were well under way Mr. Sedge- 
 wick himself was announced. Both gentle- 
 men were convinced that Miss Faye would 
 suit the ideas of the most obstinate trustee. 
 She had a woman's dignity and the perfect 
 good-breeding of a refined nature reared in 
 an atmosphere of wealth and culture ; thought, 
 study and trouble had very early taught her 
 to stand alone and to hold her own. If she 
 would not take the place without an assist- 
 ant, which Miss Preston should it be? 
 Mr. Parker inclined toward his favorite 
 Madge; Mr. Sedgewick, alleging his igno- 
 rance, kept a discreet silence. Loraine was 
 in doubt. She thought the school might be 
 good for Madge ; she was sure Ruth would 
 be good for the school. Mary proposed that
 
 GRANDMA 'S BIRTHDA Y. 1 95 
 
 the matter should be left to the Professor, 
 who would probably be the best judge. 
 
 When the old clock on the stairs struck 
 one, Loraine, refusing urgent invitations to 
 dinner, ran away down the long garden, 
 "'cross-lots," home, with the lightest heart 
 that she had carried for years. She was 
 going to be necessary to somebody, to be 
 loved and trusted, to be a helper in God's 
 good work in the world. Madge could not 
 have understood that desire. Why, this 
 Loraine could go to her city friends and 
 enter on a career of social enjoyment; she 
 was young, handsome, cultivated, fascinating 
 when she chose to exert her powers; yet 
 she chose to board with a country school- 
 teacher and to tie herself up to a daily rou- 
 tine of duty. Madge would have called her 
 a foolish creature without ambition.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 TIDINGS FROM COLORADO. 
 
 "Auo. 15, 18 
 
 FOLKS: How I do long to see 
 every one of you, and every pot and 
 pan in the dear old kitchen ! Seems to me 
 I never did appreciate the conveniences of 
 what you might call ' polite life ' till I came 
 out here to live with human creeters who 
 make no difference betwixt and between a 
 dish-cloth and a duster, if so be they have 
 either, not to speak of morals, which are 
 dreadful. After I get home and at ease 
 again, with all the apply in gcies for good 
 clean cooking and housekeeping in a Chris- 
 tian fashion, if ever murmurous thoughts 
 come a-gurglin' up in me, I hope I'll re- 
 member Colorado and Miss Peterses board- 
 ing-house. If I hain't done much toward 
 recuperating your uncle, I have saved his 
 
 196
 
 TIDINGS FROM COLORADO. 197 
 
 life time and again by not letting him swal- 
 ler the mixtures that woman calls vittnls 
 and drink. I feel real discouraged about 
 him. He don't suffer to speak of, but he 
 is considerably feebler in body and mind 
 than when I came. I thought he would die 
 surely last week, for he began to talk off and 
 on by spells. He says he can't live but a 
 little while, and I will tell you just what he 
 said then, and so later, when I am carrying 
 out his directions, you will understand. He 
 said if he was to die here I am to go to the 
 nearest telegraph-office (six miles off) and 
 send for a man in Denver who is a lawyer and 
 a friend of your uncle Henry's. This Mr. 
 French will attend to everything, as he has 
 been already instructed. Your uncle wishes 
 to be taken to Denver and buried. I am to 
 see all done, and then to stay in Denver 
 while Mr. French settles up some business 
 and tells me when to go home. There are 
 a few papers and trifles belonging to your 
 uncle that I am to bring with me. After 
 this talk he seemed brighter, and this week 
 he rests so quietly it seems to me that he 
 ought to get well; but the doctor says he
 
 198 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 can't. I have asked him the doctor to 
 write out for the Professor just what ails his 
 brother, because I might not report things 
 as they are, for there is so much more inside 
 of folks besides heart and lungs and stom- 
 ach than ever I heard of before dykes, or 
 ducks, and sacks and organs, all easy got out 
 of kilter. I only wonder any of us live at 
 all, let alone the weakly ones." 
 
 At this point in her letter Abby went off 
 into a detailed account of her daily doings 
 quite too voluminous for quotation. Then 
 came a sudden break, and the letter was not 
 finished until ten days later, when it ran 
 thus: 
 
 "DEAR FOLKS: I ought to have sent 
 this before, but I have not seen the moment 
 when I could stop to write down the sad 
 events that I was passing through. I tele- 
 graphed you the day Mr. Preston died, so you 
 will be anxious to know all there is to tell. 
 Well, about the time I stopped in my letter 
 he began to fail very fast. That afternoon 
 he seemed to want to be entirely alone, so I
 
 TIDINGS FROM COLORADO. 191/ 
 
 hovered around outside his door until even- 
 ing, when I had to make him take some 
 nourishment. After it he said, 'Abby, tell 
 them I say God bless each one of them. I 
 love them all, if I did not talk about it. 
 Philip was always a good brother, and his 
 wife Tell her and grandmother they 
 kept alive my faith in God and in good 
 women.' Then I think he kind of wandered, 
 talking about an Eleanor that he said he 
 forgave and being sorry that she came to 
 want. I wouldn't have asked a question, 
 and had no idea of hearing a dying man's 
 secrets that he never told when he was him- 
 self, but long as I did hear more and could 
 not help it I'll feel better to confess it to 
 you. He talked about expecting to marry 
 this Eleanor and thinking she was too good 
 for him or any man, and she went and mar- 
 ried a rich man because she must have mon- 
 ey ; and I reckon your uncle found it so 
 hard to forget that he has been ever since 
 forgiving and forgetting it in that awfully 
 silent way of his. About midnight he 
 dozed, and waked up with his mind clear as 
 a bell, only he kept on talking as freely as
 
 200 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 anybody. He didn't like the smell of a lamp 
 in the room, so I had the windows wide 
 open, and he said, pointing out, ' That is my 
 star, Abby. I lie here and watch it every 
 night. It makes me think of my mother, 
 dead these fifty years, and that old hymn : 
 
 " When, marshaled on the nightly plain, 
 
 The glittering host bestud the sky, 
 One star alone of all the train 
 
 Can fix the sinner's wandering eye." ' 
 
 Then he whispered kind of to himself, 
 
 ' " Death-struck, I ceased the tide to stem," ' 
 
 and the rest of it about the ' port of peace.' 
 It was solemn, and I felt pretty sure that he 
 hadn't any fears of dying; but poetry and 
 hymns is not exactly like testimony, and 
 seems as if I had to ask him if he was 
 prepared to go. He answered as gently as 
 could be : ' My flesh and my heart .faileth, 
 but God is the strength of my heart and my 
 portion for ever.' 
 
 " I set up all night just inside the door, 
 and Miss Peters she watched the other side 
 of the threshold. About two o'clock he
 
 TIDIXGS FROM COLORADO. 201 
 
 sent his love to Ruth and Madge, and said 
 tell them to be good girls. After that there 
 was not much sense to his talk. He thought 
 he was a boy playing in a field full of 
 dandelions, but most generally it was all 
 confused with that star of Bethlehem, as he 
 kept calling it. In the dim light I could 
 see his long white fingers trembling in the 
 air, pointing out the window, and him mut- 
 tering how his mother led him until the star 
 ' came and stood over where the young Child 
 was,' and how she said now he would 'see 
 Jesus.' 
 
 " Toward morning is always the time sick 
 folkses' life seems to run lowest, so we tried 
 to tide him over with stimulants. He let us 
 do anything we wanted to, but just about 
 daybreak he turned his face on the pillow, 
 a feeble little quiver ran around his mouth, 
 and that was all. I sent right after Mr. 
 French, and he came and did everything 
 that the Professor himself could have done. 
 
 " I will tell you every single particular 
 when I get home, which I hope will be 
 soon. 
 
 "Everybody was kind as kind could be,
 
 202 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 and such as had ever had anything to do 
 with Mr. Henry said that, if he was not 
 noisy, he was the most blameless man they 
 ever seen. Some who had never met him, 
 and so could not know he was a gentleman, 
 took him to be my uncle or father. 
 
 " The night we started for Denver, before 
 the coffin was put in its box, one of those 
 wicked women I wrote you about came in 
 the twilight and asked for me. (That sick 
 one of them died, and they had known I 
 prayed with her about at the last, and she 
 prayed too, thank the Lord !) Well, this 
 poor creeter, she never said a word at first, 
 but held out something white so sudden it 
 scared me until I saw that it was a most 
 beautiful cross of the very purest blossoms 
 that could be found here. ' It is for your 
 father,' said she, ' and God bless you wher- 
 ever you go now !' Then, before I could 
 speak, she kissed my rough hand and was 
 off. I was so nervous-like I broke right 
 out crying when I put those snow-white 
 things on the coffin. To think of her being 
 so grateful for almost nothing! I suppose it 
 is being away off alone here that makes me 

 
 TIDIXGS FROM COLORADO. 203 
 
 realize my blessings when I see such lives as 
 these people lead all taken up with making 
 a little money or having what they think is 
 amusement. 
 
 " I have been dreadfully homesick in this 
 little dirty, noisy settlement of the queerest 
 men and women I ever knew, but, putting 
 Mr. Henry out of the question, I am so 
 glad I came ! Living in such luxury all my 
 life since I come out of that orphan asylum, 
 I had got regularly hard-hearted." 
 
 A letter from his brother's doctor had 
 fully prepared the Professor for the sad news 
 soon after telegraphed from Abby. It was 
 not at all to the little family what the death 
 of one of their own immediate circle would 
 have been, and none of them thought of 
 assuming a grief more poignant than was 
 actually felt. Uncle Henry had come and 
 gone in and out of the household more like a 
 shadow than like an ordinary man of words 
 and deeds. He rarely touched their lives 
 and he lived his own in silence, but because he 
 was gentle, pure-minded and often generous 
 they loved him for what he was and pitied
 
 204 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 him for what he was not namely, a man 
 with interests in common with other men. 
 They grieved sincerely to think that he 
 would never come among them any more. 
 Each one wondered if he or she had always 
 been careful enough of his unspoken pref- 
 erences, sympathetic enough to one who 
 never complained. 
 
 It touched Loraine inexpressibly to hear 
 the way in which the elder ones in this fam- 
 ily talked of death. She had seen passion- 
 ate, indignant sorrow and bitter revolt in the 
 presence of the dread messenger, she had 
 seen hypocritical tears and open indiffer- 
 ence, but no one had ever seemed to love to 
 talk about the Father's house, making no 
 more of the brief passage there than of a 
 step across a dim vestibule. 
 
 " The poor lonesome man will have some 
 society now," was one of grandmother's 
 quaint remarks. " His mother will know 
 just what to talk to him about, and he will 
 be interested to see William the Silent, for 
 he used to say he was a grand Christian. 
 Henry was so shy here on earth, and so 
 outside of other people's pursuits, that the
 
 TIDINGS FROM COLORADO. 205 
 
 zhange to strength and peace and perfect 
 love will be wonderful wonderful when 
 he shall see the King in his glory and the 
 Saviour. He trusted in Christ I always 
 knew that and he tried to keep his com- 
 mandments ; so now, as Bunyan says, ' the 
 smallest saint, when he gets to heaven, shall 
 have an angel's dignity, and his knowledge 
 of the love of Christ shall surpass all ours 
 here, even as the light of the sun at noon 
 goes beyond the light of a blinking candle 
 at midnight.' Think of all that for the poor 
 forlorn old bachelor ! I always knew he had 
 at some time fallen in with a hard-hearted 
 woman, just as Abby's letter shows. Well, 
 that's all nothing to him now. Nothing 
 on earth is any matter, except sin, that 
 separates us from God if we let it go un- 
 forgiven." 
 
 The day that Abby's letter was received 
 had been a terribly hard one for Mrs. Pres- 
 ton. Loraine had not yet heard from the 
 trustees, and so was not authorized to tell 
 what Mr. Parker had discussed with her in 
 regard to the academy. The Professor had
 
 206 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 utterly failed to find any position whatever ; 
 he had even tried to get an agency or a place 
 in some book-store. He would gladly accept 
 any honest employment that would ensure 
 his family the plainest, simplest support 
 Everybody wanted "a younger man," or a 
 "single man," or one who could talk 
 " French and German," etc. As the time ap- 
 proached when usually he began his year's 
 work he grew almost desperate. If he had 
 been, as had been his brother Henry, a sin- 
 gle man, he could or so it seemed to him 
 throw off this burden of worry for the fu- 
 ture, could meet poverty for himself without 
 flinching. He was not by nature so hope- 
 ful and trusting as his wife, but, like his 
 brother, he was more brooding and under 
 trial inclined to despond. 
 
 Abby's letter came late in the afternoon, 
 and its contents took off the Professor's 
 mind from his own troubles, which that day 
 had threatened to overwhelm his faith in a 
 protecting Providence. In the forenoon his 
 wife had gone to his room and found him 
 pacing back and forth. Something in his 
 face told her all she needed to know of the
 
 TIDINGS FROM COLORADO. 207 
 
 letter lying on his desk his last forlorn 
 hope in the way of an application. She 
 dusted the worn bookcase, put papers tidily 
 on the table and drew the curtain to hide a 
 little better the old carpet, from which the 
 pattern had wellnigh faded ; then she said 
 in that gentle way of hers, 
 
 " ' I have been young and now am old, 
 yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken 
 or his seed begging bread.'" 
 
 " I too feel like quoting Scripture," he 
 broke out, vehemently. "The words go 
 over and over in my brain : ' Why is light 
 given to a man whose way is hid and whom 
 God has hedged in ? For the thing that I 
 greatly feared is come on me, and that 
 which I was afraid of is come unto me.' " 
 
 The patient little wife's eyes filled with 
 tears as, looking up, she noted how dark 
 were the circles under his tired eyes how 
 even his hair seemed to have grown grayer. 
 Her sensitive lips trembled over the words, 
 
 " ' He shall deliver thee in six troubles, 
 yea in seven there shall no evil touch 
 thee.' " 
 
 Mr. Prestou would not look at her, per-
 
 208 THE SILEXT MAX'S LEGACY. 
 
 haps knowing that if he did he could not 
 reply so almost bitterly : 
 
 ' When I looked for good, evil came unto 
 me; and when I waited for light, there 
 came darkness. When I lie down, I say. 
 When shall I arise and the night be gone ? 
 and I am full of tossings to and fro until 
 the dawning of the day.' " 
 
 The Professor had read the grand chap- 
 ters of Job to her far too often for his wife 
 to forget to answer him lovingly : 
 
 " ' Behold, happy is the man whom God 
 correcteth, therefore despise not thou the 
 chastening of the Almighty. For he maketh 
 sore and bindeth up : he woundeth and his 
 hands make whole. ' ' She waited a minute 
 before she went on : "It is very hard, 
 Philip, to go on with blind eyes and keep 
 faith bright in the heart, but God knows 
 that we trust him, and perhaps this time 
 next year we shall be amazed at our dovvn- 
 heartedness of to-day and ' remember it as 
 waters that pass away ' this care that now 
 burdens us." 
 
 Mr. Preston wheeled suddenly about and 
 looked the speaker full in the face :
 
 TIDINGS FROM COLORADO. 209 
 
 " Do you yourself feel the hope and the 
 comfort that you are so bravely trying' to 
 put into me?" 
 
 " I say to myself, Philip, a hundred times 
 a day, that God never failed me yet ; so why 
 should he fail me now ? I think I realize 
 our circumstances." 
 
 There was a little quaver in the lady's 
 voice that touched the Professor with a 
 remorseful fear lest he was selfish in crushing 
 her with a double trouble her own and his. 
 He drew her down by him on the lounge, 
 saying, 
 
 " You are a great deal braver than your 
 useless old husband, and a blessing to him 
 that ought to comfort him under any trial. 
 The darkest day must come in every year, 
 and this may be it." 
 
 " It might be darker, Philip," she returned, 
 almost reproachfully, then added, " We have 
 not heard from Madge yet; she may have 
 had some answer to her application for a 
 teacher's place." 
 
 " Could we live on that child's earnings ?" 
 
 " We are not really destitute yet : grand- 
 mother's gift filled the flour-barrel."
 
 210 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 " That is the last straw to come down to 
 taking her little pittance given in charity." 
 
 Mrs. Preston burst into tears. She was 
 worn out with overwork and the tension of 
 every nerve. If her husband was to be 
 soured by anxiety, it seemed to her just then 
 that she could not endure with serenity any 
 more worry. He was instantly sorry and 
 ashamed, and comforted her as best he could, 
 but she went away with a heavy heart. 
 Everything tired her after that; all her 
 elasticity seemed to have gone. Her head 
 ached in a dull, numb way ; and when she 
 tried to plan, or even to pray, her thoughts 
 wandered confusedly. Abby's letter with 
 the news of Mr. Henry Preston's death 
 came about supper-time, and the rest of the 
 family attributed her pale face and silence to 
 her feeling in regard to her brother-in-law. 
 Meanwhile, she was reproaching herself for 
 hard-heartedness. The contents of that 
 letter, as read by Ruth, fell on her ears like 
 something listened to in a dream. It almost 
 seemed to her that she had heard it all be- 
 fore, and had known that Uncle Henry was 
 dead. She wondered if he suffered, and
 
 TIDINGS FROM COLORADO. 211 
 
 found herself thinking that Abby had not 
 lighted the hall-lamp, then remembered that 
 Abby was in Denver and that Ruth was 
 still reading her letter ; and oh how a poor 
 tired head can ache ! 
 
 The family sat a long time talking of the 
 different points Abby had touched on, until 
 Loraine, happening to look at Mrs. Preston, 
 saw the utter weariness in her pale face and 
 the hands that seemed to lie helpless in her 
 lap. She stole quietly behind the others 
 and whispered, 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Preston, you look really ill. 
 Do go right to bed and let me help Ruth 
 do anything that remains to be done to- 
 night." 
 
 To Loraine's surprise, Mrs. Preston yielded 
 instantly, saying, 
 
 " Don't worry them, but I feel faint. Let 
 me lean on you a little, and I will get to my 
 room and lie quiet a while." 
 
 Loraine helped Mrs. Preston there and 
 brought her a cup of tea, and then went 
 back to do some little things that Mrs. Pres- 
 ton usually attended to, and which Ruth 
 her mind full of the letter forgot. When
 
 212 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 they separated, later, Loraine was moved to 
 say how worn out Ruth's mother seemed, 
 but, reflecting that Ruth would surely see it 
 the next day, and in any case could hardly 
 be more thoughtful than she already was, she 
 said nothing. 
 
 The next morning Mrs. Preston was up 
 and about the house, a little fagged until 
 toward noon ; after that unusually bright, for 
 something pleasant occurred. Mr. Parker 
 called and offered positions in the academy 
 to Miss Faye and Miss Preston. Which 
 Miss Preston he would not decide; he in- 
 clined toward Madge. The salary offered 
 Miss Preston was liberal beyond anything 
 the Professor could have expected from his 
 own experience; and when Mr. Parker re- 
 marked that Miss Faye would be offered one 
 somewhat larger still, only Loraine and he 
 understood their private arrangement where- 
 by the other teacher was to profit. 
 
 There was for the rest of the day a lively 
 discussion as to which sister should begin the 
 work, and, after all, it was concluded to leave 
 the decision to Madge herself. The school 
 opened the first week in September ; a letter
 
 TIDINGS FROM COLORADO. 213 
 
 setting forth the matter could be written to 
 Madge, who, if she wished the position, 
 might return within the following ten days. 
 
 When the Professor heard the news, he 
 received it with resignation rather than with 
 the pleasure which Loraine had hoped for, 
 but in his present depression nothing looked 
 promising. He remembered all the trials 
 sure to meet any teacher in that academy, 
 and fancied how certain annoyances would 
 irritate his spirited Madge or wound sensi- 
 tive, conscientious Ruth. 
 
 It was very late that night before Ruth 
 could dismiss the subject from her mind and 
 calm herself to sleep. No one dreamed how 
 she shrank from the thought of having to 
 take the offered place. The indifference, crit- 
 icism, contact with rudeness and opposition 
 that would arouse Madge to conquer them 
 would hurt and dishearten Ruth, but, all the 
 same, she would attempt whatever was duty, 
 and fail doing her best if fail she must. 
 She had just fallen into a troubled sleep 
 after midnight when a hand was laid on her 
 arm and her father's voice was heard in the 
 darkness saying,
 
 214 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 "Ruth, will you dress yourself at once 
 and come to your mother ? I am afraid she 
 is going to be very ill. I am going now for 
 Dr. Hickox. Her head pains her so badly 
 I don't think it best to wait until morning." 
 
 Trembling with the chill of sudden alarm 
 and nervousness, Ruth hurried on her cloth- 
 ing and hastened down stairs just as her fa- 
 ther closed the front door behind him. Her 
 mother's low moans of pain distressed her 
 greatly, for nothing she could do gave any 
 relief, and, indeed, Mrs. Preston seemed hard- 
 ly aware that Ruth was there trying to do 
 for her. 
 
 The doctor came with Mr. Preston almost 
 immediately. After giving several orders 
 to Ruth he prepared a quieting potion for 
 Mrs. Preston and said that he would stay 
 and watch its effects. He was as unruffled 
 as ever, and Ruth argued from his manner 
 that her mother was not so ill as she had 
 feared, especially when, witli a joke about 
 improving his time, the old doctor stretched 
 himself on the sofa in the next room and 
 was soon placidly snoring. Almost every 
 half hour, however, he came into the bed-
 
 TIDINGS FROM COLORADO. 215 
 
 room to examine his patient and note any 
 change. Before daylight he made Ruth 
 herself go for a brief rest. 
 
 When Loraine came into the dining-room 
 next morning, the first impression which 
 she received was that of a breakfast-table 
 set by some " raw " Irish girl. Every dish 
 was at odds with every other; caster and 
 coffee-pot were vis-a-vis, and napkins were 
 nowhere. When Johnny was seen through 
 an open door laboriously cutting a loaf as if 
 it were a green-wood log, Loraiue went 
 quickly to ask, 
 
 " Is anything the matter ?" 
 
 Grandmother, coming from the kitchen, 
 told Loraine the state of affairs, but no one 
 seemed greatly alarmed until some hours 
 later ; then all understood that Mrs. Preston 
 had been taken very seriously ill. The 
 doctor gave no name to the attack, though 
 Loraiue heard him say something about 
 typhoid symptoms. Before night Mrs. Pres- 
 ton was delirious. 
 
 " Oh, if only Abby were here !" groaned 
 the Professor ; but Abby was not there, and
 
 216 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 there had to be speedy counsel taken. 
 Grandmother, Ruth and the Professor were 
 to care for the sick mother, resting by turns 
 and holding out as long as possible before 
 calling in outside help. Madge was to be 
 summoned at once, and she and Johnny 
 must carry on the house as best they could. 
 For Loraine no one planned, but before 
 many hours everybody felt her to be a 
 power for effective help ; she cared for every- 
 body and thought coolly when all were in a 
 quiver of excitement and fear. 
 
 " That is a grand good girl !" exclaimed 
 the doctor the second day, when Loraine 
 made grandmother take a cup of tea, sent 
 Ruth for a nap and was off to the kitchen 
 washing dishes. " I thought she held her 
 head pretty high the first time I saw her ; but 
 she ought to do so : it's a head worth having, 
 and there's a heart to match. When is 
 Madge coming?" 
 
 " I telegraphed last night," said the Pro- 
 fessor. " She will probably be here by the 
 first express train to-day." 
 
 "And that wall-eyed Abby where is 
 she?"
 
 TIDINGS FROM COLORADO. 217 
 
 "Abby can't get here ; she is detained in 
 Denver. Oh, if she could come !" 
 
 "Don't take things too hard, Professor; 
 keep yourself up and we will pull through, 
 please God, and come out all right again," 
 said Dr. Hickox. 
 
 The Professor turned quickly away and 
 shut himself into his room. He knew the 
 doctor thought his wife very ill ; he had 
 sent to a near town for counsel, and his do- 
 ing that so promptly proved his unusual 
 solicitude. 
 
 The Professor sank into a corner of the 
 old sofa, and as he buried his face in his 
 hands he suddenly recalled the incident of 
 the day before yesterday. He saw his wife's 
 troubled face and heard her pathetic re- 
 sponse : " It might be darker." What if 
 there should come a day when she was not 
 in the house, but gone for ever? At the 
 thought of a day so "dark," so black, as 
 that, he groaned aloud and accused himself 
 of past ingratitude. What was poverty with 
 wife and children compared with life with- 
 out any one of them? Conscience-smitten 
 for the past and weighed down by apprehen-
 
 218 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 sioDs heavier than any felt before, he took 
 refuge in prayer, pleading most earnestly, 
 
 "'Hide not thy face from thy servant, 
 for I am in trouble. Hear me speedily.' "
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE MASCOT'S RETURN. 
 
 u Sweet promptings unto kindest deeds 
 
 Were in her very look ; 
 We read her face as one who reads 
 A true and holy book." 
 
 WHITTIER. 
 
 THE next three weeks were the darkest 
 ever known in the old yellow house on 
 the hill. , During all that time the mother's 
 life hung in a balance, and more than once 
 the grim hand of Death seemed touching the 
 scales. There were days when the hitherto 
 soft voice rang in unfamiliar tones through 
 the house, and again the girls must bend 
 low to hear the faint whispers. 
 
 Madge was as helpful as Ruth when some 
 one told her exactly what to do; otherwise 
 it seemed as if she could not think. She 
 was, as it were, paralyzed by the awful afflic- 
 tion that threatened them. While she sat 
 
 219
 
 220 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 motionless in the darkened room there was 
 but one thing that seemed more unreal to 
 her than the understanding that this perhaps 
 dying person was her bright, sweet mother : 
 this stranger thing was her own giddy self 
 as she had been for the months just passed 
 the Madge whose whole interest had centred 
 about dress, fashion, dancing, a future of 
 pleasure and of wealth, a present wherein 
 she was admired, flattered, even greatly dis- 
 liked by those who she was pleased to 
 believe envied her the sprightliness and 
 beauty that she possessed. Then, if all 
 this like an ugly dream were thrust out of 
 her thoughts, there came quietly stealing 
 into her memory picture after picture of this 
 home-life over which a black curtain seemed 
 about to drop. When her mother had been 
 the sunshine of it, what a warm, happy 
 place it had been, like some spot of perpet- 
 ual summer for ever full of singing birds ! 
 Could it be possible that she had ever turned 
 her back almost disdainfully on its happy qui- 
 et, its dainty simplicity, preferring instead the 
 vulgar glare and the empty show of a sum- 
 mer hotel ? A cold shiver ran over the girl
 
 THE MASCOT'S RETURN. 221 
 
 whenever she recalled the blare of the horns, 
 the crash of the drums, as she was listening 
 on the crowded piazza to the last concert. 
 Miss Ventnor had tried a minute before to 
 keep Bert Raynor holding her sunshade, and 
 it had pleased Madge to thwart her and send 
 him for her own letters. He brought in- 
 stead her father's telegram. She read it, 
 raised her eyes, wild with the momentous 
 fact that her precious mother was ill perhaps 
 unto death, feeling that nothing could matter 
 so much in all the world, and then for one 
 sickening second she realized that nobody 
 there cared. What was it to that red-faced 
 millionaire, to haughty Mrs. Ventnor or to 
 supercilious Maude ? Oh, the unreasoning, 
 resistless homesickness that seized Madge 
 then, and made her almost beside herself 
 until she was actually on the way to Hemp- 
 stead ! Bert had been very kind and thought- 
 ful. When she could think of anything be- 
 sides her mother, she now remembered this 
 of him in a curious, half-conscience-smitten 
 way. He had sent his love to her mother 
 with his eyes filling with tears as he said, 
 " She was always so good to me !" He would
 
 222 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 gladly have come all the way home with 
 Madge if she would have let him. 
 
 The day before the academy was to open 
 the school-year Mary Packer came, as she 
 had come daily, to bring neighborly offerings 
 or to render some help, but this time she 
 sought Loraine, saying, 
 
 " Father has arranged it all. You need 
 not even trouble to speak to the girls or the 
 Professor, for I see their anxiety has swal- 
 lowed up all thought of outside matters. I 
 will take the place with you and teach until 
 one or another of the girls is at liberty. If 
 dear Mrs. Preston dies, it might be the only 
 way to keep Ruth from grieving herself into 
 the grave after her. Madge would take sor- 
 row with the same abandonment with which 
 she takes everything important, but it would 
 not crush her. Do you think there is any 
 hope, Loraine?" 
 
 " The doctor has broken up the fever, but 
 the utter prostration that remains is disheart- 
 ening. There does not seem life enough 
 left to rally," whispered Loraiue. 
 
 " I am afraid that many more days of
 
 THE MASCOT'S RETURN. 223 
 
 such anxiety will wear out Ruth and her 
 father; he looks like a ghost." 
 
 " But, Mary, did you ever see anybody 
 like Grandmother Grey ? She works and 
 watches, carries everybody's good in her 
 mind, and yet bears up better than all the 
 rest. I keep thinking of that verse in Isaiah : 
 ' They that wait upon the Lord shall renew 
 their strength. They shall . . . run, and not 
 be weary ; and they shall walk, and not faint.' 
 I suppose the real promise is for spiritual, not 
 physical, strength, yet the supply in grand- 
 mother's case seems true of both soul and 
 body." 
 
 " Perhaps," returned Mary, " because an 
 uplifted soul always does seem to make the 
 body light. Don't you often notice how 
 hopeless people drag? There is nothing 
 this side of death that can make such an 
 old saint faithless and gloomy, and every- 
 thing beyond death she sees transfigured 
 in glory." 
 
 Loraine was silent a moment, then, re- 
 turning to the school-topic, said, 
 
 " I wish one of two things either that they 
 could afford extra help or that the academy
 
 224 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 did not begin so soon. I am not of great as- 
 sistance here, but there are small services 
 that I can render ; and it has been so good 
 to have been of any use in making the house 
 orderly and seeing that the rest ate enough to 
 keep them alive. By the way, Mary," cried 
 Loraine, with sudden animation, " what a 
 beautiful thing it is to live in a village like 
 this when one is in trouble ! The first day, 
 as I saw grandmother go to cooking after 
 losing almost all her night's rest, I could 
 have cried to think that I could not make 
 bread nor get them a comfortable meal ; but 
 since then I have actually cried at a revela- 
 tion of neighborliness such as I never saw 
 in my city-life. A dozen times a day it is 
 ' rap-rap ' on the kitchen door, and there is 
 this one with hot soup, that one with roast 
 beef or a child with pies or cakes. Jellies and 
 broths without end come from neighbors who 
 ' hope somebody will taste them if Mrs. Pres- 
 ton can't.' The weekly washing was carried 
 across the road before any one but Johnny 
 knew it, and there are a dozen neighbors 
 waiting to come in the moment nurses not 
 of the family will be allowed. It seems so
 
 THE MASCOT'S RETURN. 225 
 
 queer and lovely, and I think it a phase of 
 life altogether beautiful." 
 
 " Why, it is the most natural thing in the 
 world," laughed Mary. "A few years ago I 
 used to rail away to mother about Hemp- 
 stead, and say it was just full of gossiping, 
 meddlesome mischief-makers, and that all 
 little towns were much the same. She used 
 to say, ' Yes, Mary ; they will tease and tat- 
 tle and speculate on the cost of your ruffles, 
 by and by will engage you to the wrong 
 man, and maybe will say that your front 
 hair is not natural ; but if ever you fall into 
 great affliction in Hempstead, you will find 
 grand unselfishness and long-suffering, tender 
 care/ Father was very sick once, and I found 
 mother knew what she was talking about. 
 The very woman who said I was ' a conceited 
 snip with no good looks to brag of she 
 would nurse father ; and one day when Dr. 
 Hickox was downright discouraged she said, 
 ' There ain't no sort of use in him a-dyin', and 
 you've got to do something extra. Now, 
 try ;' and she proposed the oddest measure, 
 that the old doctor said afterward really may 
 have saved his life. He always called it 
 
 15
 
 226 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 'Sarah Elkins's extra.' But I am hindering 
 you. Good-bye until we meet as school- 
 marms. Did Madge say whether she would 
 like this position, or has she been too wor- 
 ried to give it any thought?" 
 
 "She has been too much alarmed to think 
 about it," answered Loraine. " I told her 
 about it one evening, and she seemed embar- 
 rassed. I fancied she might not think her- 
 self fitted for the place, and so I told her that 
 she had carried her studies with Mrs. Allen 
 farther than any pupil goes here. It was not 
 that of which she was thinking, for she said 
 she felt sufficiently qualified. Afterward she 
 said she wished that she could take the posi- 
 tion. She will explain hereafter, no doubt, 
 what was the objection or the hindrance she 
 saw." 
 
 Mary stayed but a moment longer, and 
 Loraine turned from the gate, where they 
 had been whispering, back to the solemn 
 house. 
 
 There were more days of fear and trem- 
 bling, of weary watching and prayer two 
 days when all hope seemed vain ; then, so 
 gradually that they could scarcely see the
 
 THE MASCOT'S RETURN. 227 
 
 change from one day to another, Mrs. Pres- 
 ton did begin to get better. The last week 
 in September, though she could not lift her 
 head from the pillow, Dr. Hickox declared 
 her to be " out of danger. " 
 
 One golden afternoon, when all the mel- 
 low warmth of summer seemed lingering in 
 the air and all he gay tints of autumn had 
 begun to glow on tree and shrub, Loraine 
 came home from . her school-duties to find 
 Ruth resting in an easy-chair by the open 
 door. 
 
 " It is delightful to see you sitting still," 
 said Loraine, dropping into her lap a cluster 
 of red leaves. 
 
 " Yes ; I have been feeling myself rest in 
 mind and body, and after such a strain on 
 both that sensation is delightful. Mother is 
 doing beautifully, sleeping like a baby 
 Mrs. Parker is watching her and grand- 
 mother too is asleep. Mrs. Parker sent 
 every one of us 'about our business/ and 
 elaborately explained that the business was 
 sleeping or sitting still. Johnny is the only 
 one who has disobeyed ; he is at work in the 
 kitchen. He tries so hard to help that I
 
 228 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 have not the heart to tell him how absurd 
 his proceedings are." 
 
 " Yes," said Loraine ; " the only time 
 lately I have heard Madge laugh like her 
 old self was when she went up stairs and 
 found Johnny had done her room-work. 
 He made her bed as if he never had slept 
 in one in his life everything laboriously 
 askew had dusted with a table-spread, and 
 had arranged her toilet-table too comically 
 to describe." 
 
 " Hush ! he is coming," laughed Ruth as 
 Johnny came suddenly around the house 
 instead of through it, mindful of his noisy 
 heels. 
 
 "Kitchen fire's made," he remarked, "and 
 I bet I could get supper slick as a pin if 
 you'd only let me try." 
 
 A long mark of soot adorned his counte- 
 nance, and at any other time his soiled cuffs 
 would have distressed Ruth, who now only 
 said, 
 
 " You are a dear good boy, Johnny, but 
 Madge and I will get supper when it is 
 time." 
 
 Johnny strolled down to the gate chew-
 
 THE MASCOT'S RETURN. 229 
 
 ing a twig and feeling only half appreciated. 
 He stood there a while, and then seemed to 
 discover far down the hill something that 
 greatly excited him. He turned to the 
 girls, was about to give a shout, thought of 
 his mother, and, merely raising both arms, 
 rushed away at a headlong pace. 
 
 " What is that red thing coming ?" asked 
 Loraine, who was near-sighted. 
 
 " ' Red thing ' ? Where ?" began Ruth, and 
 then, rising, laughed and choked and actually 
 cried hysterically at the sight of Johnny 
 with his arms flung around a woman in a 
 bright-red calico who had dropped bag and 
 baggage to return the embrace so enthusias- 
 tically bestowed. 
 
 " Oh, Abby ! Abby has come home !" 
 and away went Ruth to meet her. 
 
 At heart Loraine was a little bit of an aris- 
 tocrat, and she secretly wondered at the place 
 this unknown Abby seemed to hold in a 
 family so refined as were the Prestons. To 
 care for, protect and be kind to a servant 
 was right, but to love one had never been her 
 experience. To be sure, they said Abby was 
 " American-born " and had always been in
 
 230 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 the family, which probably accounted for 
 her influence. 
 
 Feeling no particular desire to see Abby 
 on the instant of her arrival, Loraine retired 
 to her own room ; during the next hour she 
 was not so absorbed in her book and her 
 needlework that she failed to detect a sort of 
 subdued excitement below stairs the Pro- 
 fessor's voice in hearty welcome, grandmoth- 
 er speaking faster than usual, a new stir of 
 cheerfulness and muffled laughter every now 
 and then from Ruth and Johnny. 
 
 It was three days before Loraine saw 
 Abby, for very likely Abby herself had no 
 desire to meet the critical eye of the stranger 
 within the gates. At about the end of that 
 time Loraine said to Madge, 
 
 " I must see this Abby, who is like noth- 
 ing so much as the Corliss engine, for every 
 bit of household machinery seems to get 
 power from her." 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! Only three days home, 
 and every disordered nook and corner is as it 
 should be, every meal is appetizing once more, 
 grandmother's cares are all removed and 
 father is taken care of as if he were a small
 
 THE MASCOT'S RETURN. 231 
 
 meek boy, to say nothing of the life she 
 seems to put into mother every time she 
 goes in there and makes her smile. But 
 she is not anxious to see you," laughed 
 Madge. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " She watched you down the hill this 
 morning, and she says that you are too 
 stylish. Her favorite red gown is stained 
 and travel-worn, though red as ever; you 
 will not see her until a certain purple one 
 is finished." 
 
 It happened, however, the next day that 
 Loraine was ill with a severe cold and a 
 headache. It was Saturday, so that, greatly 
 to her relief, she had no school-duties, and 
 she sent Johnny to the drug-store for a 
 simple remedy which she fancied might 
 help her. Before he returned Abby appeared 
 and took charge of Loraine in a masterful 
 yet gentle fashion there was no resisting. 
 After one look into her beaming full-moon 
 face Loraine did not want to resist, but let 
 herself be wrapped up on a sofa and fussed 
 over until she dozed off to sleep like an 
 exceedingly comfortable baby, and she awoke
 
 232 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 without the headache. Abby and she were 
 excellent friends from that time, and Loraine 
 enjoyed nothing more than to draw Abby 
 out and hear her impressions of the people 
 and the places she had seen. For at least 
 a week after Abby's home-coming she was 
 quite too busy, between Mrs. Preston's room 
 and the kitchen, to talk any more than was
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE LEGACY. 
 
 " It is as ordinary as for the light to shine for God to make 
 black and dismal dispensations usher in bright and pleasing." 
 BUNT AH. 
 
 IT was a cold, blustering day. The wind 
 tore about the yellow house as if it meant 
 to wrench away every shutter ; the air was 
 full of flying leaves, and heavy clouds hung 
 low, making twilight early in the afternoon. 
 But within-doors it was the brightest day 
 for many weeks, because Mrs. Preston was 
 for the first time able to come into the parlor 
 and sit by the roaring fire that Johnny had 
 spent much energy in building. Grand- 
 mother and Ruth had their sewing, but the 
 latter was telling them a funny story of 
 Loraine's school-experiences, and the Pro- 
 fessor put down his newspaper to listen. A 
 moment after, he glanced at Madge, who was
 
 234 THE STLENT MAN'S LEGACY, 
 
 the only silent one among them, and re- 
 marked, 
 
 " By the way, little girls, we must come to 
 a conclusion soon in regard to which one of 
 you is to be the teacher. It is not fair to 
 keep Mary Parker holding the fort a mo- 
 ment after you are rested enough to relieve 
 her." 
 
 Ruth looked up nervously, yet was evi- 
 dently of her father's mind that the pres- 
 ent would be a good time to decide the ques- 
 tion ; but when Madge gave a half-appealing 
 glance at her mother, the latter instinctively 
 felt that it might be better to talk with 
 each girl alone. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " we must talk that over, 
 but perhaps the discussion might prove a 
 little too much for my weak brain to-day. 
 I think we will let Madge tell us instead 
 something about her summer; I have not 
 heard anything, you know, since she came 
 home. It was a pity to cut your visit short 
 so suddenly, Madge." 
 
 " No, indeed, mother ; so far as I was con- 
 cerned, I had seen and enjoyed quite enough 
 for one season."
 
 THE LEGACY. 235 
 
 " Well, tell us about it, dear." 
 
 Madge roused herself from the listless- 
 ness which the family attributed to the re- 
 cent overtaxing of mind and body during 
 her mother's illness, and gave them a high- 
 ly-entertaining account of much she herself 
 had found amusing. Grandmother heard 
 with innocent surprise of life at a monster 
 hotel ; Mrs. Preston tried to banish certain 
 haunting thoughts of expenses incurred by 
 her illness, of a winter at the door and a 
 larder to be replenished how ? The Profes- 
 sor, who had almost learned his hard lesson 
 (if he had like thoughts), could, every time 
 he looked at her pale face and almost trans- 
 parent hand, feel thankfulness conquering 
 foreboding. God, who had eased her, would 
 do for them all in his own good time. 
 
 Madge ended her fun, and a quiet had 
 fallen while they all listened to the roaring 
 wind and watched the dancing flame on the 
 hearth. 
 
 " It is only five o'clock," exclaimed Abby, 
 appearing in their midst with a brilliant lamp, 
 " but I thought you couldn't see to sew any 
 longer by daylight."
 
 236 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 "And you knew I should waste valuable 
 time if I had a fire to watch," laughed 
 Ruth. 
 
 " Oh, the lazier you can be, the better, till 
 you get some more flesh on your bones," re- 
 turned Abby, arranging the lamp where its 
 light could not hurt Mrs. Preston's eyes. 
 Then, turning to the Professor, she said, 
 "Any time you get around to it I'll tell you 
 some things that Mr. French said to men- 
 tion to you, though he said you'd get the 
 hull thing in the papers sent." 
 
 " ' Mr. French ' ?" repeated the Professor, 
 questioningly. 
 
 " Why, the Denver lawyer your broth- 
 er's friend I wrote you about. I didn't pes- 
 ter you with the particulars when I first got 
 here, you all being in such trouble ; but he's 
 wrote it all out, I reckon, in the little tin 
 box. You'd a-laughed to hear him a-tryin' 
 without reg'larly insulting me to sort of 
 insinuate the information into me that if I 
 stole that tin box it wouldn't do me any 
 good and they could ketch me at it." 
 
 Abby looked around, expecting a response, 
 but both the Professor and his wife seemed
 
 THE LEGACY. 237 
 
 struggling to understand some unthought-of 
 condition of things. 
 
 When Abby went out, Mrs. Preston ex- 
 claimed in a voice so nervously tremulous 
 that it frightened Ruth, 
 
 " Philip, your brother was never depend- 
 ent on anybody ; he may have had more 
 than enough for his life an insurance or 
 something. I have thought sometimes he 
 might have had." 
 
 " It is possible that there may be some- 
 thing coming to us," Mr. Preston interrupt- 
 ed, hastily. U A little would be such a bless- 
 ing a hundred or two dollars. Abby 
 brought me a tin box, but the very morning 
 that I shut it into my drawer Dr. Hickox 
 seemed to lose his courage about you, and I 
 gave nothing else a thought. Any way, I 
 supposed what may be the case that it 
 contained merely papers of worth only as 
 belonging to Henry. I will go and see." 
 He rose, and, crossing the hall, shut him- 
 self into his study. 
 
 Grandmother, made drowsy by the fire, 
 was quietly sleeping in her chair. Ruth 
 exclaimed,
 
 238 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 " Where is Loraine ? She must have 
 come from school long ago." 
 
 " Yes, but perhaps she thought we were 
 having a family reunion and she would not 
 intrude," said Madge. 
 
 " That is it. Loraine has? the most deli- 
 cacy of any girl I know. But she ought to 
 know that we have adopted her." 
 
 " Well, let us go and tell her so," sug- 
 gested Madge ; and the two went clambering 
 up the old-fashioned stairs, Ruth saying, 
 
 " When our ship comes in, let us tear out 
 these steep stairs and have the kind that 
 turns with a landing, like that at the Parkers'. 
 There is a lovely window with a- wide seat 
 and a place for a desk and books." 
 
 The Professor did not come back. After 
 about a quarter of an hour Mrs. Preston 
 heard him suddenly drop something like a 
 heavy book and rise to his feet ; then every- 
 thing was quiet again. Her illness had left 
 her so very weak that this suspense made 
 her quite nervous. She was tempted to 
 send Johnny after her husband ; then she 
 reasoned that if there was anything to tell 
 he would soon return : his not coming back
 
 The Discovery of the Legacy. Page 23!.
 
 THE LEGACY. 239 
 
 was probably proof that his faint hope had 
 gone out in disappointment. After five 
 minutes more, chiding herself for what 
 seemed really childish impatience, she re- 
 solved to go and see for herself. She 
 wrapped closer the warm shawl and felt 
 almost naughty as she stole out, careful not 
 to awake the solicitous old lady, who would 
 have forbidden the exertion. 
 
 The hall was warm, but the blast that 
 swept past the front door reminded Mrs. 
 Preston of how long it was since that love- 
 ly morning when she had last entered her 
 husband's study, to go out of it very sad 
 and burdened. The Professor's lamp was 
 burning brightly, but he was not at his 
 table, where in a litter of papers was the 
 little tin box. Mrs. Preston went a few 
 steps beyond the door, that closed behind 
 her, and in so doing startled her husband 
 from his knees. He sprang up suddenly, 
 took his wife in his arms and exclaimed, 
 
 " How much good news can you bear ?" 
 
 " All you have to tell." 
 
 All the same, Mrs. Preston trembled 
 already, and, warned in time not to be too
 
 240 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 abrupt, the Professor put her gently down 
 in the sofa-corner and, trying to calm him- 
 self, said, 
 
 " Henry was better off than we had any 
 idea. He has left us plenty for present 
 necessities." 
 
 " Oh, I told you, Philip, that God would 
 not forsake us, but I never thought of help 
 coming by your poor brother's death. I 
 wonder now that I did not think he might 
 have more means than he talked of, for he 
 was so reserved about everything. I am 
 glad I never knew it ; I might have calcu- 
 lated on his dying: poor human nature is 
 so weak! Is it really enough to last all 
 winter, Philip ?" 
 
 Mr. Preston kissed his wife, laughing like 
 a boy as he asked, 
 
 " Could you believe it if I said there was 
 enough for next summer too ?" 
 
 " Tell me the whole thing plainly." 
 
 The Professor went back to the table, 
 saying, 
 
 "I cannot tell you yet in detail, for I 
 have only glanced over each paper and read 
 the lawyer's communication. This much is
 
 THE LEGACY. 241 
 
 clear: for the last fifteen years Henry had 
 an income of about one thousand a year, 
 and now that comes to us." 
 
 "And we have never had over eight hun- 
 dred," cried Mrs. Preston, eagerly, "and 
 managed nicely on that." 
 
 "About five years ago Henry made cer- 
 tain new investments. One of these proved 
 unwise, and he lost; the others succeeded 
 much beyond his expectations. Mr. French 
 tells me that Henry went out West this last 
 time, not for his health, but to take this 
 property recently made out of every enter- 
 prise that was in the slightest degree haz- 
 ardous, and to see it put where, humanly 
 speaking, there was no chance of its being 
 lost. The principal is secured to our chil- 
 dren Henry knew I am no financier but 
 the interest amounts to another thousand, and, 
 over and above that, Grandmother Grey has 
 a gift of five hundred dollars, and Abby an- 
 other five hundred." 
 
 Mrs. Preston began to cry so hysterically 
 that the Professor became greatly alarmed 
 and exclaimed in terror, 
 
 " Now I have killed you with all this ex- 
 
 16
 
 242 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 citement ! The doctor said a relapse would 
 be dreadful." 
 
 "No, no!" she laughed, almost as hys- 
 terically ; "joy never kills anybody. But I 
 will go and get a cup of tea, for " 
 
 " No ; you will lie still on this sofa, and 
 Abby will bring it to you. And I will not 
 let those chattering girls those heiresses of 
 ours hear anything of this to-night." 
 
 The Professor was not an old man, and all 
 at once he seemed twenty years younger for 
 his release from the crushing burden that 
 had slipped off his shoulders. Never in all 
 her married life had anything given Mrs. 
 Preston more intense happiness than this 
 night to hear the thrill of thankful joy in 
 every word he uttered, to see the light in 
 his eyes and the elasticity of his step. He 
 did not love money ; he was truly no 
 " financier," as he said. He was unspeakably 
 glad for those dearest to him, not for any 
 selfish reason. 
 
 Nobody else was told that night, but there 
 was an electric influence in the air that 
 caused both Ruth and Madge to suspect the 
 truth, though only, like their mother, to
 
 THE LEGACY. 243 
 
 the extent of " a hundred or two." When 
 at family prayers the Professor read a psalm 
 of thanksgiving in a voice that would not 
 go evenly, Loraine was certain the clouds 
 over him had parted, and that there was 
 blue sky with clear shining. 
 
 It would be an utter impossibility to de- 
 scribe the content and the gratitude that 
 reigned in the house after each inmate knew 
 what had come to pass. A million would 
 hardly have seemed larger to grandmother 
 than did this unexpected gift. She was 
 every bit as full of fancies as were the girls, 
 only hers were after this fashion : 
 
 " Whenever the missionary society sends 
 a box to the West now, I can put in a beauti- 
 ful set of warm blankets, and every holiday 
 I can send turkeys to the church poor and 
 always have something for people in need. 
 Yes, and I can pay for a Bible- reader in In- 
 dia. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all 
 that is within me bless his holy name. !" 
 
 The girls had always supposed their 
 mother blind to faded carpets and rickety 
 chairs, perfectly satisfied with home as it had
 
 244 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 been. Now, when they settled her into an 
 easy-chair and brought their own chairs 
 close to her for a talk, they found her just 
 as enthusiastic as themselves about improve- 
 ments, and ten times as practical in her ideas. 
 Indeed, Ruth soon suspected that often in 
 the past this mother must silently have con- 
 sidered all these things and patiently given 
 them up. She had surprisingly clear plans 
 for adding to and repairing every article 
 that was worth repair in the house, and thus 
 making go much farther what they could 
 spend for new things. 
 
 " We will begin no important changes 
 until spring," she said one day during a de- 
 bate, " but in the mean time we can replenish 
 our linen-closet. Then, as we sit together 
 making tablecloths, napkins, sheets and 
 pillow-cases, we will decide on every curtain, 
 carpet and cushion." 
 
 "Yes, and paint the house outside and 
 inside, and paper and " began Madge ; but 
 Mrs. Preston laughingly suggested : 
 
 "Two thousand a year is a wonderful 
 amount for us, but it will not do everything 
 at once, you must remember."
 
 THE LEGACY. 245 
 
 " Well, I know you can make it do every- 
 thing that we ought to want done," returned 
 Ruth. 
 
 " I hope so. At any rate, we can brighten 
 and beautify the old home, in which we have 
 been very, very happy, and where God has 
 been pleased to leave us still a united family. 
 A home is not quite the same after a dear one 
 has gone out of it : we had an idea of what 
 a difference it would make when we feared a 
 few .years ago that Ruth had gone from us 
 never to return ; and if I " 
 
 The look Mrs. Preston turned on them 
 filled all their eyes with tears. Madge could 
 not control hers, and Ruth, wondering a 
 little, turned the conversation back to their 
 plans by exclaiming brightly, 
 
 " When we decide which one is to teach 
 and we must decide this week, you know 
 I have a proposal to make ; only let it be a 
 secret with us three. You know how dingy 
 the study is. Well, wouldn't it be nice for 
 Madge and me to have the .privilege of mak- 
 ing that cozy and suitable again for father ? 
 As much as possible of the first year's salary 
 would do a great deal toward paper, paint, a
 
 246 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 new bookcase and a big rug. We would get 
 the floor stained and have the lounge stuffed 
 and covered." 
 
 Ruth, stopping for breath, looked to see 
 an immediate answer in her sister's face, but 
 to her surprise Madge showed little anima- 
 tion besides a reply to the effect that the 
 study did seem rather dilapidated. Soon 
 after, she went away for some sewing-mate- 
 rial, and did not return. 
 
 " I am afraid Madge did too much while 
 I was ill ; she does not seem like herself." 
 
 " I don't know. I confess, mother, that I 
 hoped she would want to teach ; but if she 
 does not, we will not urge it. I have an idea 
 she is dreading that." 
 
 "Of course there is not the necessity 
 existing now that there was at the time this 
 offer of a place was made ; and if any more 
 needy person stood ready to take the posi- 
 tion, it might be best for her to withdraw. 
 But your father says that under present cir- 
 cumstances it would not be showing proper 
 gratitude to Loraine or due appreciation of 
 Mr. Parker's efforts. Moreover, he thinks 
 that Madge would get good, morally and in-
 
 THE LEGACY. 247 
 
 tellectually, from the discipline of teaching, 
 while the responsibility might develop in her 
 more helpfulness toward others. If we had 
 come into large wealth, neither your father 
 nor I would think that a reason why our 
 children should not be workers and help- 
 ers in a world so full of ignorance and of 
 trouble." 
 
 " That is probably as true of me as it is 
 of Madge. I don't want to go among all 
 those great girls they really frighten me 
 but I am selfish to put it off on Madge." 
 
 " You don't put any terror of big girls on 
 her, dear," laughed Mrs. Preston, smoothing 
 Ruth's silky hair, " and you are better 
 adapted to other duties. I think grand- 
 mother needs you at home." 
 
 " I wonder if Loraine does not regret now 
 that she accepted the position ?" said Ruth, 
 after a pause. " I feel sure she took it only 
 to help us." 
 
 " I sincerely hope that she is not sorry. 
 One thing we can do, and that is assure her 
 that we appreciate her staunch friendship." 
 
 This suggestion about Loraine troubled 
 Mrs. Preston, however, and that evening,
 
 248 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 finding herself alone witli the young teacher, 
 she resolved to get at the entire truth. Lo- 
 raine was quick-witted enough to detect 
 her motive, and with a frank laugh ex- 
 claimed, 
 
 "Oh, I see! You fancy that I am a 
 martyr. But I can't pose in that attitude 
 long enough for even an instantaneous pho- 
 tograph. I never was so interested and 
 happy in my life. I really believe that I 
 have a going-to-be-developed genius for 
 teaching. I like and understand the girls ; 
 I seem to know how to wake them up men- 
 tally and not repel them personally. I gave 
 them to-day in the class of moral science 
 a talk that grew out of the lesson on con- 
 science, and we were so interested that we 
 ran over the hour and were surprised by 
 Mr. Sedgewick's coming to tell us school 
 was out. You see the rapid growth of self- 
 esteem in me, don't you? No doubt by 
 another month I can give the Professor 
 himself valuable instruction about instruc- 
 tion itself." 
 
 "I see in you what I admire and love," 
 said Mrs. Preston, impulsively, " and I am
 
 THE LEGACY. 249 
 
 not jealous when the Professor says, as 
 yesterday, that his ' third daughter has by 
 far the most logical mind.' " 
 
 The talk was interrupted at this point, 
 and Loraine went singing to her room.
 
 CHAPTEK XIII. 
 
 MA DOE OPENS HER HEART. 
 
 "Ofttimes one vehemently struggleth for somewhat he desir- 
 eth ; and when he hath arrived at it, he beginneth to be of an- 
 other mind." THOMAS i KEMPIS. 
 
 I BELIEVE I know just exactly what 
 your uncle Henry gave me that five 
 hundred dollars for," exclaimed Abby, one 
 evening, after sitting long in silent meditation. 
 She was speaking to Ruth, who was helping 
 Loraine draw a map that was spread on the 
 long table. 
 
 " Everybody knows why he did it, Abby," 
 Ruth returned. " Uncle Henry always 
 liked you and knew how much you were 
 constantly doing for his comfort." 
 
 " Oh, law, Ruth ! I couldn't in decency 
 have done no less for the poor lonely creeter. 
 No ; he heard me a-telling once how I hank- 
 ered after an orphan." 
 
 " A what ?" asked Loraine, in surprise. 
 
 250
 
 MADGE OPENS HER HEART. 251 
 
 Mrs. Preston just then called Ruth to do 
 something for her, and Abby continued : 
 
 " I'll tell you ; Ruth knows what I mean. 
 I always did wish that I could be rich 
 enough to find a Nankeen orphan such as I 
 was or maybe it would be a Blue- Jean 
 one and make it as happy as Mrs. Preston 
 made me. You see, when I was a little girl, 
 I had a mother and a home, and never 
 thought anything about myself until there 
 came a time of poverty, sickness and trouble 
 that I remember like a dream. I waked up 
 out of it in an orphan asylum. It must 
 have been a very nice asylum, too, as I rea- 
 son over it now sweet, clean rooms, good 
 food, pleasant grounds to play in, and all of 
 us going to church every Sunday. But I 
 wasn't only seven years old, and I was queer. 
 I presume I was so awful homely that no- 
 body took to me big rickety head, green 
 eyes, white hair and a nose that got a-growing 
 and could not stop. That is the sort of or- 
 phan I shall look out for one nobody ever 
 would think of adopting for her good looks. 
 It was in Hampton, about seventy miles 
 from here, you know, and the Prestons lived
 
 252 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 next door that is, the Professor and his 
 wife : the girls weren't born. I wasn't old 
 enough to know that it was ungrateful in me 
 to be homesick, though I don't yet believe 
 the Lord thinks it is the best way to care for 
 little children in droves, being fed, dressed, 
 put to bed by dozens and sort of loved and 
 prayed for by wholesale, as you might say. 
 It is better than letting them suffer individ- 
 ually, but I reckon lots of 'em long as I did 
 to be Well, sort of one of a kind some- 
 where with folks all to itself. I hated to see 
 seventy-eight more of me dressed in nan- 
 keen, and seventy-eight bowls of bread and 
 milk. I loosened a slat in the Preston fence 
 and used to peep in when they had the win- 
 dow open. Mrs. Preston wore a pink mus- 
 lin, and their little pretty rooms and small 
 round supper-table were so lovely! She 
 used to have a little wineglass of flowers 
 in the middle, and one morning I found 
 a daffodil in the grass of the asylum yard. 
 I put it in a green bottle of water, and 
 was going to set it by my plate on the 
 dinner-table. Then I remember thinking 
 that all the other seventy-eight children
 
 MADGE OPENS HER HEART. 253 
 
 without any green bottle and daffodil would 
 feel bad to see mine, and, poor little goose as 
 I was, I concluded it would be a beautiful 
 present for Mrs. Preston. I crawled through 
 the fence and took it to her. She asked me 
 all sorts of questions, and she laughed like 
 everything ; she says she cried, but I didn't 
 know it. She called the Professor to see me, 
 and he says I gave myself away ; any way, 
 they took me in, and I never have gone out, 
 and never will, God willing, while there is a 
 Preston left to cling to. But how I do ram- 
 ble off! What I am going to get at is this : 
 I can't adopt an orphan right out, but I 
 mean to find one in some asylum and make 
 her feel that she has got a partic'lar person 
 interested in her. I'll write to her, and, so 
 far as rules will allow, I'll do for her in the 
 way of books and toys, and try, too, not 
 to have the others made discontented." 
 
 " How can you manage that ?" asked Lo- 
 raine, much interested. 
 
 " I must. If I can't do no other way, I 
 could give any girl of her age something 
 similar, or a little treat. I haven't thought 
 it out, and of course there is a best way ; but
 
 254 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 what that five hundred dollars will do is to 
 make some lonesome little body happier than 
 she was before. I haven't any use for such 
 quantities of money wages a-rolling up year 
 after year. I don't know as I am set on its 
 being an asylum-child, either ; only I know 
 the heart of one, for I have been there. It 
 is awful to be nobody in partic'lar and have 
 nobody in partic'lar to love you." 
 
 " There are a great many persons like that 
 in the world who are no longer children 
 not in an asylum, nor poor even." 
 
 " Then they hain't no call to be lonesome, 
 and selfishness, maybe, is what ails them. If 
 they would take right hold helping some- 
 body say the next one to them they'd be 
 loved before they knew it, and, better yet, 
 find no end of folks to love and do for." 
 
 " That is the true philosophy of Christian 
 living, Abby, but it took me until a few 
 months ago to find it out." 
 
 " The Lord Jesus Christ could have told 
 you any time you wanted to know." 
 
 " I found it out by finding him. I trod a 
 long weary way first." 
 
 "I'll warrant you did," said Abby, em-
 
 MADGE OPENS HER HEART. 255 
 
 phatically. " But there is this good for 
 groping around after help and peace: you 
 know it when you find it, and you can reach 
 out a strong hand to fainting pilgrims, as 
 grandmother calls them. When I was out 
 in them mines, I saw one or two people in 
 trouble that there was no earthly help for, 
 and I tell you, Miss Faye, I just got hold of 
 the sense of that verse : ' That we may be 
 able to comfort them that are in any trouble 
 by the comfort wherewith we ourselves are 
 comforted of God.' I used to tell them I 
 wasn't nobody nor nothing, as they could see, 
 but I had an Elder Brother who was ' mighty 
 to save even to the uttermost ;' and I never 
 found one who didn't want to hear about 
 him." 
 
 Abby's plain face was all aglow with hap- 
 piness and her voice tremulous with feeling. 
 Loraine the elegant, accomplished girl 
 did not see her then as the homely, illiterate 
 handmaid : fairer, finer and wiser as she her- 
 self was, her soul had gone down on its 
 knees, quite melted into reverence before 
 this glimpse into a life so unconsciously re- 
 vealed.
 
 256 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 "Abby," she said just as they heard Ruth 
 returning, " I am an orphan also, and I have 
 belonged to no one in particular ; I want 
 hereafter to belong to every one whom I can 
 help by being helped or can comfort by the 
 comfort which you will tell of. If I keep 
 praying, will I learn the way?" 
 
 " Jesus Christ is the Way ; learn all you 
 can from him, and you can't begin to tell all 
 you will have to tell." 
 
 The two sisters were together in Madge's 
 room, where Ruth had gone with a special 
 purpose. She had found the former very 
 quiet and unresponsive, and at last, in sheer 
 despair of getting any answer except to the 
 bluntest of questions, Ruth exclaimed, 
 
 " I do wish that you would say once for 
 all what you want to do or not to do about 
 teaching in the academy." 
 
 "I don't know what to say," returned 
 Madge, moodily. 
 
 " By that you mean that you dislike the 
 idea, but you think father or mother wish 
 you to, or perhaps that /am decided not tc 
 teach. If you really "
 
 MADGE OPENS HER HEART. 257 
 
 B-utk was going on to add that she would 
 not refuse in case Madge was greatly averse 
 to taking the position, but Madge hurriedly 
 interrupted her : 
 
 " I am not holding back on that account 
 at all. In the summer I did think that to 
 teach especially away from home would 
 be very tiresome, or even at home, if it 
 should be at Kn<5x Corners, seemed to me 
 dreadful. Now, however, things have shaped 
 themselves so that to teach with Loraine at 
 the academy might, I should think, be a 
 downright interesting experience all the 
 more agreeable that I should not be worried 
 with the thought that I must please, must 
 succeed or starve." 
 
 Ruth listened attentively, waiting for some 
 communication that did not increase her per- 
 plexity, and so was silent. 
 
 Madge went on in a nervously incoherent 
 way: 
 
 "I never appreciated our home as I have 
 these last weeks. The fear of losing mother 
 was what first opened my eyes, and now, 
 when I think how much freedom from care 
 this legacy of Uncle Henry gives father
 
 258 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 what liberty to make the home more attract- 
 ive than ever I feel as if I never wanted to 
 go away again." 
 
 " Oh You Why, the school-hours 
 are not so very long. Is that it?" 
 
 " No, no !" replied Madge, impatiently. 
 
 " Letter for you !" cried Johnny, outside 
 the door ; and, as if glad of the interruption, 
 Madge rose to take it from his hand. 
 
 "Another from Cousin Jane ? How anx- 
 ious she has been about mother ! I have not 
 heard half of those she has already written," 
 said Ruth. 
 
 " Yes, you have ; Bert has written a num- 
 ber of those that you thought were hers." 
 
 "Has he? Why, that is very kind -of 
 him. But he always loved mother. What 
 does he say ?" 
 
 " Oh, same thing he always says, no doubt. 
 He is not gifted in the art of letter- writing ;" 
 and Madge delayed reading, upset her work- 
 box and stopped to pick it up and rearrange 
 its contents, until Ruth, having little curiosity 
 and thinking the letter merely one of inquiry 
 about their mother, began again to bring 
 Madge to the matter in question:
 
 MADGE OPENS HER HEART. 259 
 
 " Well, you have not told me yet whether 
 you will or will not be the one to commence 
 teaching Monday next at the academy. 
 Mother says we must decide at once." 
 
 Madge tore open her letter, read it a little 
 way, dropped it, looked at Ruth with height- 
 ened color, then suddenly burst into tears 
 and exclaimed, 
 
 "I want to do it, of course you might 
 know that I did and to stay right here at 
 home for ever, and never, never go and 
 and marry nobody." 
 
 " ' Marry anybody ' !" faintly echoed her 
 sister, with the growing fear that insanity 
 was what ailed Madge, after all. " Why, 
 it may be years and years before anybody 
 wants you to marry, if if you want to your- 
 self." 
 
 "I never shall never. But oh dear, 
 Ruth ! I have done such an awful thing : I 
 have let Cousin Jane think I liked Bert, and 
 I have let him think that I would marry 
 him; and one time I thought, myself, I 
 should, all because I hated to be poor." 
 
 Ruth stared at Madge in such speechless as- 
 tonishment that Madge went on vehemently :
 
 260 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 "You see No, you never can under- 
 stand, because you were contented ; but last 
 summer I saw such ease and luxury where 
 money was plenty, and I realized how wor- 
 ried father was with nothing better to look 
 forward to, and they were all so fond of me 
 in New York. Bert seemed just like a 
 brother, and I could not help knowing that 
 Cousin Jane would like to have me there 
 always. Then I thought how horrid it 
 would be shut up in a place like Kuox Cor- 
 ners instead of being able to travel and buy 
 beautiful things, and to have you visit me, and 
 to give father and mother no end of comforts ; 
 for the Raynors are generous. Well, I can't 
 tell how it did happen. I never meant to 
 deceive or to be wicked. I like Bert very 
 much for a sort of a cousin, and I did enjoy 
 that lovely house; so that I let him think 
 the day before I was sent for that I 
 He expects I will marry him in five or six 
 months." 
 
 Ruth looked just as horrified as Madge 
 had expected her to look, but it was a min- 
 ute before she could collect her confused 
 thoughts. Later she would surely be sympa-
 
 MADGE OPENS HER HEART. 261 
 
 thetic, but the boldness of Madge's statement, 
 her half-childish truthfulness, made Ruth as 
 indignant as she was shocked: 
 
 " You mean that you wanted to be rich 
 more than than you liked Bert himself?" 
 
 " I didn't exactly know it then, but as 
 soon as I got home I knew that must be 
 true, because I never want to go back there 
 again never !" 
 
 "And you have let him think that you 
 liked him for his own sake, and Cousin Jane 
 thinks so too ?" 
 
 " Yes. I feel awfully about Cousin Jane," 
 wailed Madge. " How she will despise me ! 
 and she was so good I" 
 
 " I should think you would feel awfully 
 about Bert," retorted Ruth, sternly, adding 
 with shy hesitancy, " Did he seem to think 
 a great deal of you?" 
 
 "Oh, I came away pretty soon, and I 
 couldn't tell. Any way, he isn't so much 
 matter that is, I mean the loss of me would 
 never break his heart; but he would be 
 grieved and ashamed for me, to think I was 
 so worldly. I was so, Ruth, I know, and 
 that is why I can't go and tell mother that
 
 262 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 I have been mean enough to promise to 
 marry him, when I never would have done 
 it if he had been a poor man, because, Ruth, 
 I don't want to marry anybody, and the 
 thought that I have got to almost makes me 
 crazy ;" and, driving her head into a pillow, 
 Madge burst into passionate sobs such as 
 Ruth had frequently seen in Madge, ever 
 since their first doll broke its neck. 
 
 At that point it was borne into Ruth that 
 the situation, though deplorable, was not 
 really tragic ; and when Madge remarked in 
 a smothered tone, " Now you see why I can't 
 promise to teach school and get married 
 too, and it is so humiliating to tell mother, 
 and so awful to go away from home," Ruth 
 said, 
 
 " It would be to my mind a good deal 
 more awful to marry anybody who believed 
 in you, when all you wanted was- money and 
 a fine house ; and there is never any way out 
 of untruth but telling the whole truth. Be- 
 sides, if you really didn't mean to act de- 
 ceitfully, but slipped into it, why it is a little 
 less wrong, perhaps. I will tell mother for 
 you if you can't ; but you can."
 
 MADGE OPENS HER HEART. 263 
 
 "And what then ? It is just as dreadful 
 about Cousin Jane." 
 
 "And Bert?" 
 
 " Bert could forgive me ; he is very good- 
 natured, and I think he is enough like me 
 to be merciful. You remember he was al- 
 ways doing things that he had no business 
 to do, and repenting." 
 
 " I think it must be very uncomfortable," 
 suggested sweet little Ruth. 
 
 " Oh, it is dreadful ; you don't know any- 
 thing about it. Walking right into a trap 
 that you could just as well have kept out of 
 and been free and happy !" 
 
 " Mother will say " 
 
 " What ?" cried Madge, rising animatedly 
 from the pillow with brilliant cheeks. 
 
 " That you must write and confess." 
 
 " Oh, I never can," groaned the elder sis- 
 ter. " You do it for me, Ruth ; that is a 
 dear girl. Just say I thought I liked him 
 well enough, but I don't ; and in some nice, 
 delicate way say I never would have thought 
 of it if he had not been rich and " 
 
 " I think you can spare him that humilia- 
 tion and punish yourself with it. But I will
 
 264 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 go and prepare mother, and then you come 
 and tell her all the rest ; her way will be a 
 wise one." 
 
 " What if she should say that I had 
 promised and must keep my word?" 
 
 Ruth the younger realized then that 
 Madge had actually thought less of the 
 solemnity of marriage than she herself: 
 
 " Mother will say there is nothing wick- 
 eder than to pretend love and to plan to live 
 a lie, as you would do if you deceived the 
 E-aynors." 
 
 " Oh, how can you always tell if things 
 are wrong before you try them and find out, 
 Ruth ?" 
 
 " Did you think and pray over this ?" 
 
 " I thought some, but I didn't pray ; I 
 couldn't seem to take time this summer. Is 
 mother in her room ?" 
 
 " Yes. But you will be interrupted there ; 
 I will send her up here to you," replied 
 Ruth, going down stairs with her singular 
 report, the full meaning of which she could 
 not yet grasp. She had not seen Bert Ray- 
 nor in three years, and remembered him as 
 only a boy.
 
 MADGE OPENS HER HEART. 265 
 
 To say that Mrs. Preston was astonished 
 would be to state the case very mildly. That 
 Madge was a young lady she knew after a 
 non-appreciative fashion, but that the time 
 had come for a change in her lifelong rela- 
 tions to the home circle was something for 
 which she was utterly unprepared. Under- 
 neath her consciousness that Madge had be- 
 haved very unworthily was a latent satis- 
 faction that she would now gladly draw back 
 and stay with them still longer. In spite of 
 Madge's dismay at the thought of " Cousin 
 Jane's" displeasure, Mrs. Preston was en- 
 tirely of Ruth's opinion that Bert was the 
 one who was to be considered, inasmuch as 
 Madge had promised to marry him, and not 
 his mother. 
 
 "And Madge cannot gauge his affection 
 for her by her own lack of it for him," said 
 Mrs. Preston as she started for Madge's 
 room, adding, " It is perfectly evident to me, 
 before hearing it from her own lips, that in 
 Bert's surroundings, and not in Bert himself, 
 is found the influence to which the foolish 
 girl has yielded, and so deceived him." 
 
 It was a very simple story that Madge
 
 266 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 had to tell ; but when once she had begun, 
 she told it from the beginning, and Mrs. 
 Preston could see just the temptations that 
 gradually had come up before her pretty, 
 luxury-loving daughter. 
 
 " Of course, mother, I never once admitted 
 to myself until since I came home that it 
 would be marrying for money. I have 
 heard of young girls who did that, and fan- 
 cied them deservedly miserable with dis- 
 agreeable old men ; but Bert is very nice 
 and near my own age, and living with 
 Cousin Jane was very pleasant." 
 
 " My child, you were not to marry Cousin 
 Jane, as I just told Ruth. And now I want 
 to talk to you about the folly and danger 
 of a woman who marries in any such cir- 
 cumstances of the unhappiness she usually 
 brings on herself and the injustice done 
 her husband. I have very old-fashioned 
 ideas about marriage, and I ought, perhaps, 
 to have given them to you before, but I did 
 not realize that you were actually done with 
 your playhouse and your dolls." 
 
 No listener could have been in a more 
 penitent and receptive mood than was Madg*
 
 MADGE OPENS HER HEART. 267 
 
 during the long, earnest talk that followed. 
 Indeed, so far as Madge herself was con- 
 cerned, her mother could hardly be sorry 
 for what had occurred, because it had taught 
 the young girl a lesson that might have been 
 learned later only with far more disastrous 
 consequences. . 
 
 The next day, when they were more com- 
 posed, Mrs. Preston wrote to Cousin Jane, 
 and Madge, with a strange mixture of re- 
 lief and mortification, succeeded in getting 
 into shape a letter for Bert. Her mother 
 counseled her to ask a release from her en- 
 gagement for the simple reason that she did 
 not love him. This she did, but, aware that 
 she had encouraged his belief that she liked 
 him more than was a matter of fact, Madge 
 attempted no justification of herself, but 
 wrote in a frank, half-comical, half-pathetic 
 unreserve that could not fail to conciliate a 
 harder nature than Bert possessed. 
 
 In a very short time both letters were an- 
 swered. It secretly amused Mrs. Preston 
 that " Cousin Jane's " was seized most eager- 
 ly by Madge. That lady was naturally very 
 sorry and much disappointed, but she was
 
 268 THE STLEXT .VAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 not angry or unreasonable. She moralized 
 on the mistakes often made by young people 
 and the advisability of guarding against them 
 when this was feasible. She hoped that 
 this little episode would make no differ- 
 ence in the friendly relations of the two 
 families, and declared that it should not 
 make any so far as Bert and herself were 
 concerned. She cordially urged all or any 
 of the Prestons to visit them during the 
 coming winter, and she altogether justified 
 her claim to being as Ruth said, " good-nat- 
 ured." Mrs. Preston fancied from this 
 hint dropped " perhaps later everything 
 will arrange itself satisfactorily " that Mrs. 
 Raynor imagined Madge did not know her 
 own mind, but of that no notice needed to 
 be taken. 
 
 Bert's letter no one but Madge saw, yet she 
 said he was " very good and a perfect gentle- 
 man ;" so all inferred that he had given her 
 the coveted freedom. Half an hour later she 
 was singing so merrily that the house seemed 
 filled with music, and before long she was 
 most enthusiastically discussing academy af- 
 fairs with Loraine.
 
 MAD.1E OPENS HER HEART. 269 
 
 The Professor had not been enlightened 
 in regard to this last exploit of his young 
 daughter ; and when, that evening, she de- 
 lighted him with some very sensible theories 
 of education the fruit of Mrs. Allen's long 
 experience he said to his wife, 
 
 "Our Madge is really very much more 
 mature in judgment than I had supposed. 
 I see now that she has been giving deep 
 thought to her future as a teacher." 
 
 " Oh, Madge is growing older every day," 
 said the non-committal mother, smiling se- 
 dately. 
 
 The Professor was very happy in these 
 days. His wife was fast regaining her 
 health, and home was never more cheery. 
 When the wintry blasts howled about the 
 house, he could for the first time in years 
 reflect complacently on full coal-bins, well- 
 furnished larder and outstanding bills all 
 liquidated. He had no idea of settling down 
 to inaction because in the prime of his life 
 he had come into a moderate competency, 
 but in the coming year he resolved to give 
 himself to a congenial work which he had 
 long wished to accomplish the preparation
 
 270 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 of certain grammatical text-books for school 
 use. He felt that a year spent in this way 
 would give him the time for study and rec- 
 reation which he needed after long labor 
 and mental anxiety. 
 
 It was a bright, cold morning when Madge 
 Preston went down the hill with Loraine to 
 begin her duties as a teacher. Freed from 
 the vexation and sense of wrong-doing that 
 had lately oppressed her, she was in most 
 exuberant spirits. 
 
 "Miss Preston," remonstrated Loraine, 
 pausing to laugh at an absurd speech, " you 
 are about to enter on a career where dignity 
 is absolutely essential. I will wait right, 
 here by this gate until you straighten your 
 face and get into a proper frame of mind." 
 
 " Oh, don't worry, Loraine ; I shall not 
 disgrace you. But I am so happy ! I have 
 had such a narrow escape ! I can't tell you 
 about it now ; perhaps I will hereafter as a 
 warning if I see you growing reckless. 
 There comes Mr. Sedgewick. Now I will 
 assume such gravity that he will not know I 
 could smile."
 
 MA DOE OPENS HER HEART. 271 
 
 Before the week was over, Loraine was 
 perfectly satisfied that "Miss Preston" 
 would be successful in her undertaking. 
 She was enthusiastic in imparting knowl- 
 edge, and she possessed the vivacity and 
 kindliness which attracted to herself those 
 about her. Moreover, she was a good disci- 
 plinarian ; all her rules were pleasantly but 
 promptly enforced, and soon in the same 
 way obeyed.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ABBY FINDS HER ORPHAN. 
 
 " Unheard no burdened heart's appeal 
 Moans up to God's inclining ear ; 
 Unheeded by his tender eye 
 
 Falls to the eartli no sufferer's tear." 
 
 WHITTIER. 
 
 JOHNNY PRESTON was not an in- 
 u tellectual boy. He detested mathematics ; 
 he " loathed Latin ;" he the son of a Pro- 
 fessor writing a Grammar used double neg- 
 atives and spelled a little like Abby. Never- 
 theless, he was a warm-hearted, truthful fel- 
 low, as industrious as possible at any mechan- 
 ical occupation. Abby was a great consola- 
 tion to him when he was conscious that " fa- 
 ther " was "trying to make the best" of him : 
 " Because, you know, he wishes I could 
 be a scholar like Mr. Sedgewick, and I never 
 can be. Don't you suppose I can be a man 
 that he never will be ashamed of even if I 
 should be only a carpenter?"
 
 ASSY FINDS HER ORPHAN. 273 
 
 "Our blessed Saviour was a carpenter, 
 Johnny, and that fact ought to keep any 
 man from looking down on that trade. Now 
 do your very best, and nobody will ever be 
 ashamed of you." 
 
 " But I ought to love study." 
 
 " Some folks can't," said Abby, well know- 
 ing whereof she affirmed, " but they can 
 study, all the same, if their duty demands, 
 and maybe love for it will come at least, 
 I've heerd so." 
 
 " When are you going to hunt up the or- 
 phan?" asked Johnny, who had discussed 
 at full length this object (elect) of charity. 
 
 " Soon as I can take a little more time." 
 
 "I don't see why you are so determined 
 that she shall be homely as a scarecrow." 
 
 " You will see if you live to be old as I 
 be, and a woman besides which is not to be 
 expected; so, being a man, you never may 
 understand. But it is just this, Johnny : 
 beauty gets taken care of pretty tolerably 
 easy in this world ; it settles naturally into 
 soft places and has the strawberries and 
 cream if any is being passed around in its 
 vicinity. On the contrary, crusts and three-
 
 274 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 legged stools if it is a question of sitting 
 down at all is considered plenty good 
 enough for tow-headed, crooked -nosed, freck- 
 led-faced little girls, especially if they are 
 motherless and poor. Oftentimes they are 
 tenderer-hearted and more lovable than the 
 rosy-cheeked, curly-haired girls that visitors 
 flatter till their heads are turned. Any way, 
 my orphan isn't going to be one mite pretty." 
 
 " Such ought to be helped," was Johnny's 
 sagacious comment, " but I should let out 
 the job and take a beauty. Oh, say, Abby ! 
 Did you know that Simpkins " 
 
 Abby prepared to hustle the lad out of 
 her kitchen post-haste. To tease her about 
 this shiftless old widower had been the boy's 
 delight for years.* 
 
 " Stop, stop, Abby !" expostulated Johnny, 
 interposing the clothes-bars as a barrier. " I 
 only want to tell you that he is dead." 
 
 " ' Dead ' I When and how did he die ?" 
 she inquired, at once ceasing hostilities. 
 
 " Oh, he had the rheumatism for the last 
 year got so infirm he could not do any- 
 thing, and came on the county. He died 
 suddenly of heart disease."
 
 ABBY FINDS HER ORPHAN. 275 
 
 " I hope he didn't suffer much. He took 
 everything so easy it doesn't seem as if he 
 would. Well, I trust the Lord has saved 
 his soul, and that he will take a new start 
 in the next world. He had so much putty 
 in him instead of charity, and some way it 
 never hardened. I am glad he didn't leave 
 any children." 
 
 " But he did." 
 
 "No, he didn't. His little girl, Nelly, 
 that he used to fetch up here and tell me in 
 a sort of insinuating way needed a mother 
 and much she did too Nelly died of scarlet 
 fever more than a year ago." 
 
 "All the same, he left a boy fourteen years 
 old." 
 
 " Oh ! Then he is old enough to take care 
 of himself." 
 
 " He would be if he could." 
 
 " What ? Is he as flabby as his father ?" 
 
 "He is a great deal flabbier," replied 
 Johnny, " for three years ago he fell off a 
 high building where he was helping he 
 was a smart little fellow, everybody says 
 and broke his back or paralyzed it. Any way, 
 he never could sit up since, and never will.
 
 276 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 Old Simpkins was as good to him as he 
 could be, and nursed him like a woman. 
 They lived in two little rooms over Hind's 
 cooper-shop. I went to see Moza once, and 
 took him some oranges." 
 
 " Moses is his name ?" 
 
 "No, but it is another Bible name, he 
 said one his mother found in the Old 
 Testament. He has had to be taken to the 
 poorhouse, and they say he cried awfully 
 because, of course, he never will come out. 
 But the doctor said he might live to be as 
 old as his father." 
 
 Abby's big green eyes were dim with 
 sympathetic tears; and when Johnny soon 
 went about his business, she fell into a long 
 train of thought. How she had detested 
 " old Simpkins," the slow, lackadaisical creat- 
 ure who had dogged her steps a few years 
 before, and had offered himself once a month 
 for a length of time that drove Abby almost 
 desperate ! But he was harmless and pious, 
 too, in an ineffectual, diluted way exasperat- 
 ing to a worker of any degree of energy, 
 physical or spiritual. Abby wished now 
 that she had not been quite so savage with
 
 AS BY FINDS HER ORPHAN. 277 
 
 him had oftener let him sit on the bottom 
 doorstep and eat what he was wont to call a 
 "snack of good vittals." She wondered 
 what the poorhouse was like, considered in 
 the light of a steady residence, and she re- 
 solved before another Sunday came around 
 to see for herself and to visit poor Moza. 
 As from that visit came results which may 
 (not here, but hereafter) be considered im- 
 portant, let it be recorded in detail. 
 
 The poorhouse was a long walk from 
 Hempstead, but, as it was near the main 
 road, Abby easily secured a ride to a point 
 near by, and so one clear, cold day she pre- 
 sented herself at a side door of the big red- 
 brick building. She then coolly constituted 
 herself a committee for silent investigation. 
 Being plainly clad and by no means stylish, 
 she was taken for a relative of some of the 
 inmates, and was thus enabled to see more 
 than any supervisor or caller at the front door 
 would probably have beheld. She concluded 
 that there might be far worse institutions of 
 the kind, and she sincerely hoped there 
 might be much better ones. Perhaps her 
 own account of the expedition, given that
 
 278 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 evening to Grandmother Grey, will be more 
 graphic than any elegant version : 
 
 " First, of course, I met the poor-folks' 
 smell always the same ; sort of made up of 
 old clothes, dead-and-gone victuals, depraved 
 human nature and carbolic acid. I went in 
 the kitchen a big brick-floored, smoked- 
 walled place with a roaring great fire in the 
 end, around which were a lot of feeble old 
 men and cripples. A half-witted woman 
 was setting the table with wedges of bread 
 and bowls of mush and milk down the bare 
 boards. I stumbled up a staircase that 
 ought to be mended, and looked through a 
 lot of rooms where there was work going on 
 half-and-half clean then into a lot more 
 rooms scoured up and cold enough for a 
 country funeral in January. I got halfway 
 into a wing where I believe they are keep- 
 ing lunatics contrary to law, for I am sure I 
 saw one in a kind of sacking-bag a strait- 
 jacket, perhaps standing by a barred win- 
 dow. I am going to find out hereafter why 
 I was hustled out of that part of the house. 
 Up another flight of stairs were big rooms 
 full of women, old and feeble and luny in a
 
 ABBY FINDS HER ORPHAN. 279 
 
 harmless way. They were chatting together 
 just like other folks, and some of them 
 seemed contented; some grumbled about 
 the tea they didn't get, and so should I in 
 their places, no doubt. The old men's quar- 
 ters were not one bit pleasant. An old 
 woman with any of the woman left in her 
 will tidy up her medicine-bottles and pin up 
 a chromo and wear a knit breakfast-cape 
 if she has one, but an old man-pauper 
 generally shrivels into musty woolen scented 
 with stale tobacco. I have often noticed it. 
 There was a long row of little dismal rooms 
 off a hall that wasn't furnished with any- 
 thing but new whitewash. The hall, I 
 mean ; the rooms had each a bed, a stool 
 and a shelf. I forgot what I came for, 
 because I found half a dozen poor creatures 
 that I had to spend a few minutes with try- 
 ing to cheer them up a poor girl dying 
 with consumption, not a friend this side the 
 ocean, a mother bedridden with five little 
 children tossing about she scarcely knew 
 where; but by and by I found Moza, and 
 the moment I saw that the poor fellow 
 hadn't a look like his shiftless coot of a
 
 280 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 father my heart kind of went out to him 
 If he had a had that grin, nothing but 
 grace could have made me want to help 
 him ; but he didn't far from it. A woman 
 said, ' Moz, here's company for you,' and let 
 me right in where he was. I thought it 
 was a girl till he spoke a girl with nice 
 features and big sad black eyes. I sat right 
 down on the edge of his bed a tin dish of 
 baked beans occupying the stool and we 
 got acquainted. He has ten times the sense 
 of his father, but, oh my ! how doleful he 
 was ! and good reason he had to be. He 
 can't set up unless he is propped up. The 
 overseer promised to have a frame made to 
 put behind his back, but he hadn't found 
 time. He can use his arms and hands, but 
 that is all. He thought that was nothing, 
 ajiJ he had looked at those four white- 
 washed walls for just one hundred and 
 seventeen days and amused himself calcu- 
 lating how many more such there would be 
 if he lived fifty years having three hundred 
 and sixty-five days in each. Cheerful, 
 wasn't it?" 
 
 Abby expected the "Poor child!" that
 
 ABBY FINDS HER ORPHAN. 281 
 
 grandma uttered from the very depths of 
 her tender heart, and she hastened to ex- 
 claim, 
 
 "Well, now, Grandmother Grey, if I 
 didn't have a revelation right then and there 
 that the Lord Jesus had sent me over to 
 that county-house to find my orphan, I am 
 greatly mistaken ; but I know I am not 
 He is not a girl, and he is not awful homely, 
 and he never will go out fighting his way in 
 the world ; but he is mine, and I love him. 
 I do, now, and you needn't laugh. I told 
 him so, and I told him enough to give him 
 some things besides whitewash and the mul- 
 tiplication-table to think of. That boy is go- 
 ing to have a frame for his back ; Johnny 
 is going to make it, and I reckon he will 
 get good in the process as well as Moza. 
 Moza can read, and he is going to have such 
 books as Mrs. Preston thinks good for him. 
 Maybe he can learn to draw and to sew and 
 amuse himself. I didn't say anything to 
 him about it, but a boy who can use his arms 
 and hands freely could learn some means of 
 being self-supporting in a measure. The 
 pauper feeling must never take the self-
 
 282 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 respect out of the poor chap. I did not tell 
 him anything unwise about my means or 
 plans, but I promised to look around for 
 something like basket-making or hand-work 
 of some sort that he could learn. He has 
 an aunt a decent, kind woman who would 
 gladly take him into her little home if any 
 small amount came in with him. I think 
 that can be managed, and I don't propose to 
 have this poor boy lie there in that poor- 
 house year after year until he grows half 
 idiotic for lack of care, as such people do 
 grow. I mean soul-and-brain-care. The 
 overseer told me his back was not seriously 
 injured, and that the doctor said he might 
 in course of time, being young and of good 
 constitution, get much more use of his limbs. 
 He misses his father dreadfully ; and there 
 must have been something good about the 
 old simpleton, for he was kind to Moza." 
 
 Abby had really no breath left to continue 
 her narrative, and so paused to hear grand- 
 mother's sympathetic comments. The latter 
 warmly commended Abby's benevolent proj- 
 ect, and declared it more feasible than the 
 plan of patronizing a stray orphan in some
 
 ABBY FINDS HER ORPHAN. 283 
 
 distant town. She said that she had heard 
 of Moza's mother as a Christian woman who 
 doubtless had prayed for her children's 
 welfare, and that Abby might now be God's 
 answer to those very prayers. 
 
 " I hope so ; I would ask nothing better 
 to do with all my spare time and money." 
 
 The simple-hearted old lady, who was 
 equally " rich," did not think of smiling at 
 the tone in which Abby spoke quite like one 
 able to found a hospital or endow a college. 
 
 From that day Abby had a mission. At 
 least once a week she visited her orphan 
 and with kindly words and vigorous common 
 sense kept up his courage and his dawning 
 manliness. There was no danger that she 
 would coddle him foolishly, but she kept 
 hope in him for the future and a present 
 trust in the divine Helper who previously 
 had been to him only as a Being remote 
 from humble lives like his own. 
 
 That was a short and happy winter for 
 the Prestons. The Professor enjoyed his 
 books, his work and the delightful novelty 
 of rest and recreation when he was weary.
 
 284 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 Madge and Loraine were equally contented 
 in the academy, which under Mr. Sedgewick 
 prospered well. He was as conscientious as 
 Professor Preston, and, being younger and 
 more magnetic in personality, he awakened 
 a real enthusiasm for reform in all his pupils. 
 Mrs. Preston and the others of the home- 
 circle gave many happy hours to plans for 
 remodeling the dilapidated old house into an 
 abode convenient and beautiful. In occupa- 
 tions like these the weeks and the months 
 fled swiftly by, leaving only pleasant records 
 behind.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 GRANDMA GREY'S REMINISCENCES. 
 
 "And oh, beyond this shadowy damp. 
 
 Where all is bright and fair, 
 I know full well those dear old hands 
 
 Will palms of victory bear. 
 Where crystal streams thro' endless years 
 
 Flow over golden sands, 
 And where the old grow young again, 
 
 I'll clasp nay mother's hands." 
 
 IT was May again, and all about the old 
 home the peach trees and the apple trees 
 were in bloom ; birds sang from dawn until 
 dark, and the air was sweet with spring per- 
 fumes of bud, flower and tender earth. Only, 
 the yellow house was greatly changed since 
 last May. Without, it had been tinted the 
 greenish olive that harmonizes with nature's 
 own coloring, and within, all was renewed or 
 beautified. Ruth rejoiced in the hall stairs 
 with a broad landing where midway were a 
 
 285
 
 286 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 window, a great easy-chair and a shelf of 
 books. The Professor could not sufficiently 
 admire his library with new desk, repolished 
 and replenished bookcases, soft dark rugs 
 and rejuvenated chairs and sofa. Madge's 
 taste, cultivated by the New York visit and 
 restrained by her mother's ideas of fitness, 
 had found exercise in making the parlor 
 artistically charming without taking away 
 its old quaint individuality as a room en- 
 deared to them and their guests. Perhaps 
 it was on account of hospitable thoughts of 
 these last that the mother, the grandmother 
 and Abby delighted chiefly in the enlarged 
 chambers, now daintly fitted up and ready for 
 the most fastidious visitor. Nothing any- 
 where in the house was very elegant or in 
 any way new-fashioned merely for fashion's 
 sake, but all was in order, appropriate and 
 pleasing. What that means to a family who 
 have had patiently to mend old furniture, 
 patch old draperies and endure the constant 
 sight of irreparable ugliness, only such a fam- 
 ily can appreciate. 
 
 When Ruth one day gayly announced 
 that the last pretty pin-cushion adorned the
 
 GRANDMA GREY'S REMINISCENCES. 287 
 
 last toilet-stand and everything was "com- 
 plete," her mother said, 
 
 " What shall we do now ?" 
 
 " Well, I was about to fill the blue jug on 
 the mantel-piece with pink and white apple- 
 blossoms. I will give you a holiday, as you 
 have been a very industrious mother of 
 late." 
 
 " Thank you ! But I was thinking of the 
 Kaynors, or of Cousin Jane. Would it not 
 be pleasant to write and invite Cousin Jane to 
 come for a long visit ? We could then re- 
 turn some of her kindness to Madge and do 
 away with any lingering unpleasantness con- 
 nected with that episode last fall, in case she 
 harbors any resentment. I hope she does 
 not." 
 
 " I think it an excellent plan," exclaimed 
 Ruth. " She likes the country, and she told 
 Madge last year that she began to get tired 
 of fashionable resorts. We can make her 
 comfortable now, because we are able to af- 
 ford things which she thinks indispensable." 
 
 " Well, I will write to her to-day," was 
 Mrs. Preston's conclusion when Ruth went 
 to her bouquet-making.
 
 288 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 The letter was written, and Cousin Jane 
 promptly replied that nothing would please 
 her more than an " old-fashioned " visit in a 
 quiet place like Hempstead, and with friends 
 like the Prestons. She said she had not been 
 at all well and her physician had told her 
 to avoid unnecessary fatigue, summer travel 
 and excitement. Accordingly, the first of 
 June found her in the sweet, cool front 
 chamber whose arrangements grandmother 
 had planned with a thought in her loving 
 heart of that Pilgrim's resting-place " the 
 chamber called Peace." The day she came 
 and was installed there Madge said to Ruth, 
 
 " She is growing old very fast ; she looks 
 ten years older than she looked last sum- 
 mer." 
 
 " Yes ; she is going to lose her health, I 
 am afraid. I hope not, for I can't think of 
 her confined to the house, she is so fond of 
 change and novelty." 
 
 " Yes ; she never reads much, and does 
 not seem to have what Mrs. Allen used to 
 call ' many internal resources of amuse- 
 ment.' " 
 
 It was in consideration of this fact that
 
 GRANDMA GREY'S REMINISCENCES. 289 
 
 the girls devoted a great share of their time 
 that summer to walking, visiting, driving 
 and various little excursions with Mrs. Ray- 
 nor, who from the first found herself very 
 contented and restful. She was a simple, 
 kindly woman who might have amounted to 
 more mentally and spiritually had she ever 
 had the companionship of earnest Christians 
 or the discipline of trouble. She had placid- 
 ly drifted down the current of an easy, un- 
 eventful life with all her wishes gratified be- 
 cause she had few beyond human agency to 
 supply. She considered the Prestons excep- 
 tional for goodness and intellect, but for her- 
 self would have never known what to do with 
 " their high ideals and profound principles." 
 Madge was the only one of them whom she 
 considered really "practical," although she 
 had formed a strong attachment to Ruth 
 while the latter was in her care abroad. 
 
 After several weeks spent in the family, 
 Mrs. Raynor began to study the domestic 
 life as a problem worth her thorough com- 
 prehension. Slowly the truth filtered into 
 her mind that Christianity, over and above 
 being the creed which she reverently recited 
 
 19
 
 290 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 in church when she attended one was a 
 life radiating from the heart out into every- 
 day conduct and coloring all the believer's 
 thoughts. Hitherto she had regarded her 
 handsomely-bound Bible as in a vague way 
 the corner-stone of civilization. The fact 
 that it reposed on her centre-table and con- 
 tained ten commandments which she hoped 
 she kept by not stealing, lying or worship- 
 ing idols, this fact made her a Christian, 
 not a heathen. It seemed to her very queer 
 when Grandmother Grey and Abby, per- 
 haps, would talk about a psalm or a gospel 
 promise with the unaffected pleasure of a 
 child in a letter from home or a gift received 
 of actual value to them personally. The 
 old lady was the first one to understand 
 Cousin Jane, to see that she was coming 
 gradually to realize that, like the foolish 
 ones of old, she had received her lamp, but 
 had taken no heavenly oil wherewith to fill it, 
 and now late, but not too late she might 
 arouse to look for help to those about her. 
 As opportunity offered, therefore, Grand- 
 mother Grey dropped a word in season, and 
 soon Cousin Jane made opportunities and
 
 GRANDMA GREY'S REMINISCENCES. 291 
 
 lingered with her after prayers in the morn- 
 ing even went with her to the evening 
 prayer-meeting in the church. 
 
 Loraine was the only person in the family 
 who failed to feel more or less interested in 
 Mrs. Ray nor. This exception was no doubt 
 because the only topics of conversation be- 
 tween them had been New York society, shops, 
 concerts and that about which each supposed 
 the other chiefly concerned. Cousin Jane 
 gave Loraine credit for great "intellectu- 
 ality," to be sure, but she carefully avoided 
 any " book-talk," being well aware of her 
 own limitations. 
 
 The three girls were sitting together in 
 the parlor one evening, when Loraine laugh- 
 ingly remarked, 
 
 "There is a wise injunction which says, 
 ' In time of peace prepare for war.' Now, 
 I can't affirm that I have found any gray 
 hairs yet, but I have been reflecting on old 
 age. Grandma Grey suggested my reflec- 
 tions, I have no doubt." 
 
 " She suggests a great many of mine," 
 said Ruth.
 
 292 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 " I met an old lady a year or two ago," 
 continued Loraine, " and at first I was de- 
 lighted with her. She was very elegant in 
 manner, very cultivated ; and when one day 
 I heard her entertain a roomful of young 
 people, I thought to myself, This is what is 
 meant by ' growing old gracefully ;' but later 
 I was not at all sure that I cared to know 
 her better. She was as vain of her beauti- 
 ful white curls as she could ever have been 
 when they were golden, and she was as full 
 of petty jealousies as any foolish girl, in 
 spite of her ability to shine in society long 
 after she was a grandmother. In fact, I 
 don't think she was as agreeable as many 
 fussy, tedious old ladies who never talk 
 about anything worth hearing. Many of 
 these last are Christians. Yet what makes 
 them so different from your grandmother ?" 
 
 " Well, my explanation of it is that she 
 was a lady of uncommon good sense, to 
 begin with," suggested Madge. 
 
 " Granted ; but so, doubtless, have been 
 many women who break up and degenerate 
 as they grow older," returned Loraine. 
 
 "Let us artfully entice her into giving us
 
 GRANDMA GREY'S REMINISCENCES. 293 
 
 her ideas of ' growing old gracefully/ " pro- 
 posed Ruth ; and accordingly, when, soon 
 after, the old lady came into the parlor with 
 her knitting to rest a while, Loraine asked 
 her the meaning of the phrase. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know, dear -just what most 
 people understand by it; but I think it 
 ought to mean growing old with grace 
 heavenly grace, all the time sought for to 
 the end that the older we get, the more com- 
 passion we may have one of another, being, 
 as the apostle says, 'pitiful and courteous.' 
 He expressly says that if we will ' see good 
 days ' and ' love life ' we must refrain our 
 tongue from evil, must ' do good,' and, last 
 of all, must ' seek peace.' We will not ' love 
 life ' in the right way if as we grow old we 
 neglect to bless others and to realize that we 
 ourselves are called, as Peter says, to 'in- 
 herit a blessing.' " 
 
 " Yes, but Loraine said just before you 
 came in that some old people who are sincere 
 Christians are not so lovely as they might 
 be, or are positively disagreeable." 
 
 "Unfortunately, Madge, that is true of 
 many who are young and middle-aged, as
 
 294 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 well as of the old. However, as I am not 
 good at theorizing, I will give you the result 
 of my practical experience and my observa- 
 tion. When you get along toward middle 
 life, you will do well, girls, to take your- 
 selves in hand and find out what things 
 you will be wise in avoiding. First, spend 
 a while studying the good and the bad traits 
 of your near relatives, for by that time the 
 same traits may have gotten tolerably well un- 
 der way in you. If there is a fussy old aunt 
 who worries all her servants until they are 
 cross, and who is detested by the children, the 
 first time that you are 'nervous enough to fly,' 
 just think, ' This way lies danger. Aunt 
 
 X is a blood-relation, and what she is 
 
 I can very easily be; so I will begin now 
 to drill for a placid old age which seeks 
 peace for myself and the people who may 
 have to live with me.' In fact, just appro- 
 priate the best sort of heirlooms, and banish 
 the worst kind to the attics with cast-off 
 clothes. Hold fast to your grandfather's 
 good manners, and relinquish that family 
 spirit of revenge which, it may be, you were 
 getting too intimate with. You will be
 
 GRANDMA GREY'S REMINISCENCES. 295 
 
 astonished to find, after such a time of men- 
 tal and spiritual overhauling, how ignorant 
 you were of your own failings and how 
 uncharitable toward your relations. My 
 particular struggle was to grow old believing 
 that new things were just exactly as good as 
 ancient ones, and often better that as roses 
 are blossoming rare and fragrant to-day just 
 as they opened when I was a child, so all 
 life around me is now bright and sweet and 
 always young to somebody. You cannot 
 arrive at this conclusion after you are old ; 
 you must grow old believing it. I had a 
 lesson once years ago," continued grand- 
 mother, smiling at the recollection, " and 
 it did me great good. I was long past 
 middle life when some young people were 
 chattering and laughing within my hear- 
 ing, and by and by they read a few 
 letters from their companions that amused 
 them greatly just such letters as all girls 
 like. I sat thinking of my schoolmates, 
 and in looking back it seemed to me there 
 were no such young people left none so 
 beautiful and so high-spirited and witty. I 
 remembered their letters, and thought they
 
 296 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 wrote in a style as superior to that of girls 
 nowadays as one could possibly imagine. I 
 did not mean to be ill-natured, and I don't 
 think the girls considered me so; but by 
 and by I told them of my girlish correspond- 
 ents how wise and witty they were, what 
 elevated sentiments they uttered and what 
 noble women they all proved. The dear 
 young girls with whom I was talking wished 
 so heartily that they could see ' those beauti- 
 ful old letters ' that I remembered I had a 
 pack of them somewhere, and I resolved to 
 find and reread them for their benefit and 
 pleasure." 
 
 "And did you do it ?" asked Ruth. 
 
 " Yes, and they could not appreciate them, 
 perhaps," put in Madge. " I have read 
 about those elegant epistles of olden times, 
 and fancy them in the style of the Spectator 
 that you liked to read, Ruth." 
 
 " Don't interrupt grandmother," said Ruth ; 
 " I want to know the rest." 
 
 "Well, I found the little yellow packet 
 forty-four years old and I read the letters 
 all over, and never but once before did I 
 have the same kind of a surprise. My
 
 GRANDMA GREY'S REMINISCENCES. 297 
 
 mother had a jewel-casket that when I was 
 ten years old I thought wonderfully rare 
 and fine. My father gave it to one of his 
 stepdaughters, and I mourned its loss more 
 than words can tell. This half-sister died 
 ten years ago, and among other relics sent 
 me was the casket. I told you, Ruth, 
 before it came, about the inlaid lid, the 
 golden hinges, the fine carved ivory and 
 the rose-satin lining. It came the very 
 same casket, but a little faded, common box 
 that never could have been the thing I 
 had imagined it after my imagination had 
 strengthened with my growth. So it was 
 with the poor little letters. I could not 
 understand the long-forgotten jests, and the 
 wisdom was very weak. They called up in 
 me lively memories, but there was no life or 
 worth left in them. I never read them to 
 the young girls, whose own letters I realized 
 were brighter, after all ; I only preached a 
 sermon to myself and afterward tried to 
 put it in practice. But this very minute, in 
 talking about myself, I am yielding to one 
 weakness that often is apt to go with fool- 
 ish old^ age."
 
 298 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 " You are yielding to an impulse to do us 
 good," returned Loraine, warmly. 
 
 "That you are!" echoed Madge, giving 
 the old lady a hearty hug as she rose to pull 
 up the curtain, and in her own half-loving, 
 half-teasing way added, " Don't you fail to tell 
 us something that Bunyan says, or I shall 
 feel cheated. Grandma's good talks are little 
 volumes with a Bible binding and a Bunyan 
 clasp. Think, now, and please have it some- 
 thing that will encourage a headstrong, blun- 
 dering creature like Madge Preston to try to 
 grow old as gracefully as a certain modest 
 relative whom I might mention. I don't 
 feel that I promise well for age." 
 
 "Then I have just the right message for 
 you, dear. Old Bunyan says tell you that 
 'some say, When grace and a good nature 
 meet together, they do make shining Chris- 
 tians ; but I say, When grace and a great 
 sinner meet, and when grace shall subdue 
 that great sinner, and shall operate after its 
 kind in that great sinner's soul, then we have 
 a shining Christian.' " 
 
 "According to that, I must believe that 
 you were once a great sinner," murmured
 
 GRANDMA GREY'S REMINISCENCES. 299 
 
 Madge, " but it requires faith to accept the 
 idea." 
 
 By and by the girls went for a stroll in 
 the moonlight, and Mrs. Raynor, who had 
 been silently resting in an easy-chair, was 
 left alone with grandmother. 
 
 "I never thought about growing old in 
 any such way. It has always meant dis- 
 agreeable things to me failing eyesight, false 
 teeth and trouble with false hair. Real old 
 people who have not had fine minds as you 
 must have had," she continued as earnestly 
 as ungrammatically " they do get silly and 
 tiresome, asking endless questions and fret- 
 ting." 
 
 " No, deary ; it is no question of having a 
 fine mind in younger days: it is only to 
 have the mind of Christ and the wisdom 
 of the Holy Spirit's teaching, and these are 
 freely given to us of God, the Bible says. 
 Of course physical decay may make many 
 old persons childish and troublesome, but I 
 was not talking to the girls so much about 
 extreme old age as of people who were grow- 
 ing old." 
 
 "Like me, and not with grace," said
 
 300 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 Mrs. Raynor, sadly. "If I knew how to 
 begin, I would try to make mys-elf over." 
 
 "Oh, none of us can do that, and so it is 
 blessed to remember that the gospel says, ' By 
 grace are ye saved through faith, and that 
 not of yourselves, it is the gift of God.' We 
 begin by believing the word and just taking 
 the gift." 
 
 The old lady never talked in a sancti- 
 monious, unnaturally-solemn way about sa- 
 cred things. Just now she was gently rocking, 
 stroking Johnny's cat, who would sit in her 
 lap, and talking as easily as about the moon- 
 light on the roses outside the window. 
 
 Swallowing something that seemed to 
 choke her, Cousin Jane said humbly, 
 
 " I am prett} r ignorant about religion. I 
 would like to have you tell me a few 
 things." 
 
 "I should love to help you, dear," said 
 grandmother, quickly; and just because love 
 did prompt her, every word she spoke found 
 its way to the soul hungering after right- 
 eousness. 
 
 -The three girls went down the hill talk-
 
 GRANDMA GREY'S REMINISCENCES. 301 
 
 ing of school-matters. The spring term at 
 the academy had been prolonged on account 
 of a Christmas vacation, and the next week 
 were to be held the closing exercises. The 
 new teachers were planning to make them 
 of unusual interest. 
 
 " Here we are almost at the Parkers'," 
 suddenly exclaimed Loraine, "and if you 
 don't object, let us go in for a moment. I 
 want to borrow a History which Mr. Parker 
 has in the library, and that he offered to 
 lend me." 
 
 "There are Mary and her father now, 
 sitting on the piazza. Yes, let us go," 
 returned Ruth ; but when they had entered 
 the gate and had been greeted by Mary, 
 they discovered that the second person was 
 Mr. Sedgwick, and not Mr. Parker. 
 
 " Sit here and chat a while," urged Mary ; 
 " it is quite too beautiful a night to stay in 
 doors." 
 
 Mr. Sedgewick seconded the invitation, 
 saying, 
 
 " Perhaps you don't recognize my right to 
 extend the hospitalities of the house or, at 
 least, of the porch ; but I have the right of
 
 302 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 an inmate : I have been taken in here, and 
 the members of the family have promised to 
 do for me. Have they not, Miss Mary ? or do 
 you agree only to bear and to forbear ?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't think I noticed the form of 
 the contract," laughed Mary, finding cushions 
 for the girls, who soon understood, somewhat 
 to their surprise, that Mr. Sedgewick intend- 
 ed to remain in Hempstead through the 
 vacation, and that the Parkers had taken 
 him as a boarder. 
 
 An hour passed very quickly, for Loraine 
 and Mary had always much to say to each 
 other, while Mr. Sedgewick and Madge dis- 
 cussed academy-affairs. At length he gave 
 her a few very sincere words of praise in 
 regard to her success as a teacher this first 
 year, and seemed honestly glad that she had 
 not refused to continue in the school the 
 coming term. . Madge was heartily pleased 
 with this appreciation of her efforts. She 
 had felt an undefined uneasiness in regard 
 to Mr. Sedgewick's opinion of her ever since 
 her first strongly-manifested hostility to him 
 while she supposed that he had unjustly 
 supplanted her father. In all their school-
 
 GRANDMA GREY'S REMINISCENCES. 303 
 
 relations he was sufficiently cordial, but he 
 was decidedly more unreserved and affable 
 with Loraine and Mary Parker even with 
 Ruth. This evening he came out in a new 
 light. After a while he declared he would 
 " talk shop no longer," and soon the whole 
 party were discussing a picnic to be planned 
 for the week after school closed.
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 THE PICNIC. 
 
 " Oh, sweet, lowly graces poverty of spirit, meekness thai 
 grow low and are of dark hue like violets, but of a fragrant 
 smell ! These are prime in the garland of a Christian." 
 
 rPHE next morning Mrs. Raynor felt so 
 -*- unusually fatigued that Ruth easily per- 
 suaded her to remain in bed. The young 
 girl brought her guest a tempting little 
 breakfast and served it to her in French 
 fashion, with many amusing allusions to the 
 summer when they traveled together. Then 
 she drew down the curtain and left Cousin 
 Jane to take a longer rest. 
 
 There was a good deal going on below 
 stairs that morning, and until dinner-time 
 nobody wondered at Mrs. Raynor's non- 
 appearance; then Ruth went up again, and 
 found her in a sleep so heavy that it seemed 
 unnatural. Hardly knowing why, she called 
 her mother, who after a moment said, 
 
 304
 
 THE PICNIC. 305 
 
 " She breathes as if she were not resting 
 comfortably, and I think I had better waken 
 her." 
 
 This proved to be such a difficult task 
 that the watchers were getting alarmed, 
 when Mrs. Raynor opened her eyes and 
 murmured a drowsy excuse. Mrs. Preston 
 in turn begged pardon for breaking her 
 visitor's slumbers, but explained that she 
 had moaned in her sleep. 
 
 " I feel wretchedly, but after I have a cup 
 of tea my head may be clearer. I have 
 waked up before several times, and once I 
 did not seem to know where I was, or much 
 of anything. I could not remember Ruth's 
 name to call her." 
 
 Ruth, who knew Mrs. Raynor's voice 
 better than her mother, looked curiously at 
 Mrs. Preston ; for it seemed to the young 
 girl that Mrs. Raynor spoke in a strangely 
 thick, slow way. Mrs. Preston did not per- 
 ceive anything peculiar, and so Ruth ran 
 away to get a cup of tea. 
 
 "Take this first, and then I will help you 
 dress to come down stairs," she exclaimed, 
 on returning ; " or if you prefer, let me bring
 
 306 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 your dinner to you and don't you get up at 
 all to-day." Half in fun, she propped up 
 Airs. Raynor's shoulders with a pillow, say- 
 ing, " I practiced so long with mother that I 
 know just the right angle for hot tea." 
 
 Mrs. Ray nor, smiling, took the pretty 
 china cup, held it vibrating, spilled some of 
 its contents, and, to Ruth's astonishment, 
 carried it up much nearer to her ear than 
 to her mouth. 
 
 "Catch it, Ruth!" said the lady, just in 
 time to save her neck from a scalding. 
 " Something ails my arm ; it seems as if it 
 were asleep yet." 
 
 Again Ruth summoned her mother, who 
 now suspected the truth that Mrs. Raynor 
 had experienced the very slightest shock of 
 something not unlike paralysis. She rubbed 
 her and avoided any expression of her fears, 
 but advised sending for Dr. Hickox. Mrs. 
 Raynor was too dull to be at all frightened, 
 but yielded herself passively to their care; 
 and so Johnny was at once despatched. 
 
 The doctor confirmed Mrs. Preston's opin- 
 ion, but said the attack was so slight that 
 Cousin Jane might scarcely realize its results.
 
 THE PICNIC. 307 
 
 She would be a little duller mentally and 
 tremulous physically. She would gradually 
 get better control over this right arm, and 
 perhaps in a few days be apparently as well 
 as before. The import of such an experi- 
 ence was not its immediate effects, but rather 
 was it to be recognized as prophetic of graver 
 seizures in days to come. He said he would 
 write a full explanation of the matter to Mr. 
 Raynor, and they could soon nurse and 
 cheer her back to a semblance of health. 
 
 For a day or two Cousin Jane was not 
 like herself in this new stupor of mind and 
 body, but before a week had passed she was 
 up, dressed and had ridden out. She moved 
 more slowly, could not easily go up and 
 down stairs and dropped articles that she 
 tried to lift or to hold. She was much less 
 talkative and drawled her words a little, but 
 she herself was less conscious of all this 
 than was any one else. 
 
 Mr. Kaynor came as soon as he received 
 the doctor's letter, and was greatly troubled 
 at first, but, seeing an improvement in his 
 wife's condition even while he stayed, he de- 
 parted hopeful at the end of a week. Before
 
 308 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 he left, it was arranged, greatly to Mrs. Ray- 
 nor's satisfaction, that Bert should come and 
 devote himself to her for the remainder of 
 the summer. She wanted to take long drives 
 daily, to be helped in and out of carriages 
 and up and down stairs by some strong 
 arm. 
 
 " It will be very nice for Cousin Jane," 
 remarked Ruth when the plan was an- 
 nounced to her by her mother, " but, moth- 
 er, will it not be embarrassing for our poor 
 Madge?" 
 
 " Speak to her about it and see," replied 
 her mother, smiling quietly to herself. 
 
 At that moment Madge was heard ap- 
 proaching, singing as she came. With con- 
 siderable hesitation and some circumlocution, 
 Ruth made known to her the fact of Bert's 
 expected arrival. 
 
 "Oh, will not that just be delightful?" 
 exclaimed Madge. " I hope he will get 
 here in time for the picnic Wednesday ; if I 
 thought he would not, I would write a note 
 and tell him to hurry." 
 
 "Why, don't you Wouldn't he " 
 stammered Ruth, incoherently.
 
 THE PICNIC. 309 
 
 Madge gave her sister a keen look, and 
 laughingly added, 
 
 "Oh, Bert is not revengeful one single 
 bit. He has forgotten all that nonsense, just 
 as I have, and we shall not make ourselves 
 uncomfortable over a trifle like that." 
 
 " No, certainly not," commented Mrs. 
 Preston, with that queer little smile which 
 neither girl quite understood. 
 
 About three miles from Hempstead was a 
 pretty spot called " The Glen." To find it 
 one turned into a charming lane leading from 
 the road to a grove thick enough in its cen- 
 tre to be called " woods." This sloped rap- 
 idly down to a gorge, at the bottom of which 
 rushed a wild little brook which once might 
 have been a broad river, judging from the 
 formation of the mossy rocks on each side. 
 The whole place was delightful, for in the 
 glen were spots where on dry, soft turf a 
 large company could assemble, shaded by 
 great oak trees and having an outlook along 
 the winding gorge. Elsewhere were deep 
 hollows filled with ferns, cool, damp and 
 green, deeply-shaded, and again twisting
 
 310 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 paths roughly trodden through tangled un- 
 derbrush into sunnier nooks and pretty 
 haunts of wild flowers, bright berries, vines 
 and delicate mosses. 
 
 Madge and Mary Parker always claimed 
 that they discovered the Glen and its " pic- 
 nic capacities," and they also declared that 
 so long as they could keep its delights a 
 secret from the noisy public they intended 
 to be silently selfish. They really need not 
 have worried over the matter, for only peo- 
 ple who loved the woods, fields and wild bits 
 of nature were ever likely to leave the old 
 picnic-grounds, five miles farther, where 
 were a summer hotel, a brass band, lawn 
 tennis and a saloon. 
 
 It was an exquisite day very early in July 
 when " our picnic," as Madge called it, came 
 off. Only the Parkers, the Prestons, the 
 minister's family, Dr. Hickox and a few of 
 Johnny's friends were going, and it was to be 
 the most informal affair imaginable. About 
 ten o'clock in the morning the procession 
 started. In the great easy carriage belong- 
 ing to the Parkers were Grandma Grey, 
 Judge Parker and Mr. and Mrs. Edgecomb ;
 
 THE PICNIC. 311 
 
 right behind them, in a similar carriage, 
 Mrs. Parker and Mrs. Preston, the Professor 
 and Mr. Sedgewick. Mrs. Raynor, who felt 
 a little timid with " intellectual people like 
 ministers and teachers," as she confided to 
 Madge, came with Madge, Ruth, Loraine, 
 Mary Parker and half the baskets in a 
 curious but comfortable old vehicle as com- 
 modious and nearly as big as an omnibus. 
 Abby lingered on the doorstep when these 
 last departed with much laughter and fun 
 about the contents of the hampers stowed in 
 until where feet should go became a puzzle. 
 
 "See here!" shouted old Dr. Hickox, 
 driving up in his gig. " I promised to get 
 over there to the Gulch or whatever Madge 
 calls her camp-ground in time for dinner ; 
 but the sight of you all forlorn just turns 
 my stomach, Abby. If you stay away, I 
 don't want to go ; I should be miserable." 
 
 " Law, now ! Don't get sentimental at 
 your age, doctor don't, now. I'm going 
 fast enough, but I'm going with a whole 
 load of boys." 
 
 "At 'your age,' Abby? Why, I'm as- 
 tonished !"
 
 312 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 "Six of 'em, at the very least," said 
 Abby ; muttering, " Did I, or did I not, 
 put mustard in the Professor's ham-sand- 
 wiches ?" 
 
 " My patient was in that last carriage, 
 wasn't she?" 
 
 "Yes, and she is improving every day 
 now." 
 
 " Did her son come ?" 
 
 " No, he couldn't get here ; but he is 
 coming to-morrow or the next day," replied 
 Abby, glad to see the old doctor prepare to 
 start again : she and the boys had a pri- 
 vate enterprise of their own. She hurried 
 into the house, packed the last pie, cake and 
 chicken into the last basket, and then dressed 
 herself in her gala-attire. 
 
 Ever since Ruth and Madge came to 
 years of discretion they had vainly striven 
 to regulate or to modify Abby's ideas in 
 regard to adornment and propriety in femi- 
 nine attire. They had given up the effort, 
 just as their mother before them had given 
 it up, for scarlet, orange and grass-green 
 Abby would wear. That her own eyes, 
 skin and hair were neutral in tint was to
 
 THE PICNIC. 313 
 
 her an added reason why she should gratify 
 her love for brilliant colors. This day she 
 wore a broad straw sun-hat with five blood- 
 red .roses on its apex ; her gown was a pink- 
 and-blue plaid gingham, and across her 
 broad shoulders was a royal purple shawl. 
 When she appeared in the door again, pre- 
 paratory to mounting into the cart where 
 were already collected the six boys, she 
 looked like a slice out of a rainbow. Never- 
 theless, she experienced immediate pleasure 
 in the admiration which she evoked from 
 those same benighted boys, every one of 
 whom was her firm friend. Now, seeing 
 her so new, neat and glaring in costume, 
 they actually told her that she looked splen- 
 didly, and, worst of all, they did not know 
 any better. 
 
 Johnny drove chiefly because he was 
 the boy who knew the least about driving 
 and the rest had a high time with themselves 
 and with Abby. It would have surprised 
 the advance-party to have seen them at a 
 certain point turn quite off the road taken 
 by the others, and, still more remarkable, 
 they had ridden scarcely a mile before, with
 
 314 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 a wild whoop of " Here we are !" every boy 
 of them leaped to the ground and was off. 
 
 Abby, left alone, folded her hands in 
 content, studied the radiant blue sky, said 
 a few consolatory things to the patient old 
 horse and awaited the boys' return. They 
 had all rushed for the poorhouse, and not 
 five minutes later out they came buzzing 
 like gigantic flies about a roughly-finished 
 but easy rolling-chair, which they propelled 
 down the gravel- walk. In it reclined Moza, 
 Abby's orphan, laughing with pure delight. 
 Three months after Abby had found him in 
 his loneliness she had stirred up such an 
 interest respecting him in Johnny and his 
 friends that Moza was now their common 
 property. Johnny's mechanical ingenuity, 
 their united contributions and the poor- 
 master's co-operation had given to Moza this 
 chair. With his uninjured arms he could 
 propel it about the house and grounds, and 
 the comfort he took in this way was inde- 
 scribable. When the boys proposed to take 
 him to the picnic, Abby gained Mrs. Pres- 
 ton's instant consent, and planned to give 
 poor Moza a treat that he would not soon
 
 Abl.y's Orphan.
 
 THE PICNIC. 315 
 
 forget. Their strong hands easily managed 
 chair and occupant, so that, hoisting him 
 into the cart, Moza was " one of the boys 
 again ;" and you can fancy what that meant 
 to him. He talked and laughed, but all the 
 time his happy eyes took in the familiar land- 
 scape, every road, house and bit of wood had 
 formerly been daily seen by him. Once or 
 twice those great eyes were turned on Abby 
 with such loving gratitude in them that, as 
 she told grandmother, " unless she sniveled 
 right out she had to do something." What 
 she did was to bestow a delicious great bun 
 on Moza because he was " delicate," and 
 then gleefully to enter on an uproarious 
 squabble with the other six, who vowed they 
 were delicate too and would have buns un- 
 limited. 
 
 Moza almost choked between his enjoy- 
 ment of the bun and his laughter over what 
 seemed to him the very wittiest hilarity, for 
 society in the poorhouse was decidedly tame. 
 Sometimes in his gloomy room or during a 
 season when he was suffering unusual pain, 
 Abby had talked to him of holy things and 
 divine love and comfort until he reverenced
 
 316 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 her as if she had been a saint with a visible 
 halo around her brow; to-day he thought 
 her the most sunshiny, lovable human be- 
 ing on the face of this earth while she frol- 
 icked away under the shade of that hat 
 with the bouncing red roses. It was so very 
 good, too, for him to realize not only that 
 heaven was beautiful and the next life desir- 
 able, but that earth was still a place for sum- 
 mers, birds' song and merry young life. 
 
 The boys were not in a bit of a hurry to 
 get anywhere in particular; neither was 
 Abby, so long as it was not dinner-time. 
 Accordingly, they were perpetually leaping 
 out of and into the cart, rushing across fields, 
 stopping for drinks, begging cherries and 
 interviewing wayfarers. It was high noon 
 before they reached the Glen. 
 
 Now, what need is there to describe a pic- 
 nic in detail ? There was something delight- 
 ful for everybody to do on this particular 
 day, and each one did what seemed good in 
 his or her eyes. The older ones conversed 
 together in cool, fragrant nooks ; the boys, 
 never forgetting Moza, gave themselves up to 
 innocent riot; the young ladies strolled
 
 THE PICNIC. 317 
 
 about exploring pretty places until Abby 
 arrived and the hampers must be unpacked. 
 
 Just as the air began to be perfumed with 
 the odor of coffee old Dr. Hickox came. 
 He declared that he was " afar ' off on a 
 country road, forgetful of the picnic, until, 
 smelling that coffee," he remembered the 
 Gulch ; and " gulch " he would call it on 
 purpose to tease Madge, who thought " glen" 
 a beautiful word. She could not, however, 
 stop to have her usual playful squabble with 
 him, for the young people were marshaled 
 about by Abby just then and made to put 
 final touches to the feast, to seat their elders 
 first and then to make themselves useful. 
 But there was an instant revolt against any 
 respect of persons, the older ones begging 
 that Abby would not insist on too much 
 style in table- waiting, but would let every- 
 body help his neighbor ; so all camped about 
 the long snowy cloth, and the delicious viands 
 vanished amid much merry conversation and 
 laughter. 
 
 The boys were together at one end, around 
 Moza, whose big black eyes shone with so 
 much happiness that it was delightful to
 
 318 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 watch him. This was for him a day of un- 
 alloyed pleasure; and when the old doctor 
 discovered him, an hour or two after dinner, 
 he gave him a new hope to make his future 
 bright. 
 
 " Hello, Moza ! This is good !" exclaimed 
 the old man, looking him well over; and 
 then, desirous to see more of his happiness, 
 he said, " You look surprisingly better, my 
 boy, than you did before your father died. 
 Doesn't the county-house doctor tell you so ?" 
 
 " He does not examine me very often," 
 replied Moza. 
 
 Dr. Hickox put out his hand, rolled 
 Moza's chair quite out of sight of the rest, 
 behind a thick clump of bushes, and pro- 
 ceeded to make an examination of his back 
 and limbs. 
 
 " You are better much better ; and the 
 fact that you have regained any power at all 
 over those limbs shows that with proper 
 treatment you will have more. I can't say 
 you will ever be well again that is, 'as good 
 as new ' but I believe that you can be up and 
 about among men by the help of one crutch," 
 were the doctor's words, adding, as he studied
 
 THE PICNIC. 319 
 
 the boy's attractive face, " You need not think 
 you are going to be left in that house much 
 longer. Abby has been at me and I have 
 been at the town authorities, and in a 
 month's time at the farthest we will have 
 you out and at your aunt's. There is far too 
 good stuff in you, my boy, to waste in a 
 pauper." 
 
 When the doctor had rolled him back, 
 Moza sent the boys, who were reluctant to 
 leave him, for the wild racing and tumbling 
 down-hill, up-stream and through woods 
 which they secretly longed for. This he 
 knew, and so he assured them that he wanted 
 them to go, because he was perfectly content 
 to be in the midst of all the sights and 
 sounds of out- door life. Moreover, Abby 
 was there to amuse him, and every one had 
 cheering words for him. The minister sat 
 by him a long time ; and if the rest did not 
 hear all that was said, they knew by the 
 light on Moza's face and the tenderness on 
 Mr. Edgecomb's own that they were having 
 a talk of Him who is the 
 
 " Hope of every contrite heart 
 The joy of all the meek."
 
 320 THE SILENT HAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 Shortly after dinner Mary Parker and 
 Madge started for a stroll through the 
 Glen. 
 
 " It is useless for you to run away from 
 us," called Mr. Sedgewick. " Miss Faye will 
 not be left alone, and it is a necessity that I 
 go along as a snake-chaser. I never knew a 
 lady to go a rod's distance over ground like 
 this without hearing a rattle or seeing a cop- 
 perhead possibly a boa-constrictor if the 
 dead twig was particularly dreadful in ap- 
 pearance." 
 
 " After such a remark you ought to be 
 forbidden to come one step with us," said 
 Mary Parker, severely. " I would like to 
 cast insinuations on your own courage." 
 
 " You may. I think it likely, if we do 
 see a boa-constrictor, that I should climb a 
 tree and shout ' Shoo ! Shoo !' as wildly as 
 you did when the Bradley cow would not 
 get off the walk one day. I never learned 
 to fight menagerie creatures outside school- 
 hours, at least." 
 
 " Isn't he growing frivolous since vacation 
 began ?" asked Mary. 
 
 "And I went to your house to board," put
 
 THE PICNIC. 321 
 
 in Mr. Sedge wick, overtaking them and 
 joining, not Mary, but Madge. He had 
 resolved to remove, if possible, the stiffness 
 that always made itself felt in his association 
 with the latter young lady. She was unre- 
 served with everybody else; perhaps she 
 thought him only a prim pedagogue incapa- 
 ble of unbending. It was odd that with both 
 Mary Parker and Loraine he could at any 
 time drop into fun, banter or a merry war 
 of words, but with Madge he was forced to 
 be as grave as the Professor himself. 
 
 "Mr. Sedgewick," exclaimed Loraine, 
 " do you know but of course you don't 
 this is the anniversary of our first meeting, 
 when" 
 
 "Oh how flattered I feel ! It marked an 
 era in your " 
 
 "It did not. At least, my meeting you 
 was not the chief thing, but the way 1 met 
 you was very embarrassing, and the date I 
 remember because it was the beginning of 
 my life in Hempstead." 
 
 " Miss Preston," said Mr. Sedgewick, with 
 a teasing glance at Loraine, " I should think 
 Miss Faye would be embarrassed to recall her 
 21
 
 322 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 wild conduct. We know how unconven- 
 tional and romantic she is, because now she 
 lias been with us ten months in the academy ; 
 but then it was such a shock to me to find a 
 young woman taking trains at random over 
 any railroad that she happened to see, and 
 with only two cents in her pocket. Or did 
 you have three and a brass check ?" 
 
 " No ; the check was stolen," laughed 
 Loraine, " but not the trunk, fortunately." 
 
 " I have often wondered what would have 
 become of her if she had not suddenly seen 
 that benevolence in my face which inspired 
 her with such unbounded confidence " 
 
 " Nonsense ! I was as afraid of you as I 
 could be until you found out that I was 
 coming to Hempstead and told me you had 
 visited Professor Preston. I knew no scamp 
 could be an acquaintance of his; so you 
 went forward simply on another man's re- 
 spectability," cried Loraine, warmly. 
 
 " Well, well ! Miss Preston, don't you 
 think she might have given your father 
 credit for something beyond 'respectabil- 
 ity ' ?" continued Mr. Sedgewick ; and so the 
 careless talk went on as the party walked
 
 THE PICNIC. 323 
 
 leisurely down a pretty path arched over 
 with maple trees and leading to the noisy 
 little stream below. Once down there, 
 Mary and Loraine lingered to watch the 
 boys, who had captured a great mud-turtle. 
 
 Mr. Sedgewick suddenly remembered a 
 curious formation of rock quite down the 
 stream, and showed a desire to conduct 
 Madge to it without waiting to summon 
 the others. Madge called, but they did 
 not respond ; so she followed her guide. The 
 rocks were mildly interesting, and Mr. Sedge- 
 wick was a good talker on geology or on 
 almost any other subject. He secretly exert- 
 ed himself to be entertaining, until Madge 
 grew animated herself, and they described 
 a wide circle around the woods before they 
 rejoined the picnic-party. 
 
 When Mary Parker had sufficiently ad- 
 mired the turtle's points as shown off by his 
 enthusiastic captors, she carelessly remarked 
 to Loraine as she glanced after their late 
 companions, 
 
 " See ! they are far ahead. Let us go on." 
 
 " No ; let us not go on." 
 
 "Why, you are not provoked at Mr.
 
 324 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 Sedgewick, are you, Loraine? He was 
 entirely in fun. Since he came to our 
 house we are always teasing each other about 
 something." 
 
 " I know Mr. Sedgewick as I would know 
 my own brother if I had one, and like him 
 almost as heartily as I should like a brother. 
 You don't know him, Mary, or else you are 
 a trifle stupid all of a sudden." 
 
 The bewilderment in Mary's face matched 
 in a most comical way the amusement in 
 Loraine's. 
 
 " Yes, you are almost as dull as Madge 
 herself. But then you are not in school, so 
 your ' wision is limited/ as Sammy Weller 
 said, to times like to-day." 
 
 Mary still stared in speechless meditation 
 on Loraine's seemingly incomprehensible 
 talk ; but when once more Loraine glanced 
 smilingly after the geologically-inclined 
 couple, now still farther in advance, a light 
 broke in and she exclaimed, 
 
 "O-h-h!" 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " I wonder" 
 
 " So do I, and approve."
 
 THE PICNIC. 325 
 
 "Yes; there is no question about loiter- 
 ing with the mud-turtle. If he does not 
 actually want us," laughed Mary, " he is not 
 wishing us present. Oh, Mr. Sedgewick, I 
 never thought it of you never !" 
 
 After a brief silence Mary said, 
 
 "I think Madge has greatly improved 
 this winter; she is not so restless and de- 
 sirous for excitement. Once or twice she 
 has surprised me by acting as reasonably as 
 Ruth herself in circumstances where once 
 she would have done something erratic, if 
 not reprehensible." 
 
 " Yes ; ever since Madge came from New 
 York she has been different has shown 
 this 'sweet reasonableness,' as you might 
 well call it. I had an idea that New York 
 would demoralize her." 
 
 " Was it not her mother's narrow escape 
 from death that quieted her down, rather 
 than the city visit?" asked Mary, linking 
 her arm in Loraine's as they started up the 
 bank again. 
 
 " Possibly. One thing is certain : within 
 the last six months Madge appreciates her 
 home as she never did appreciate it before.
 
 326 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 She used to seem to me both deaf and 
 blind." 
 
 " I suppose their uncle Henry's legacy 
 has enabled them to enjoy certain things 
 denied them before." 
 
 "Oh yes; but, while that is all true, 
 Mary, this is certain : money never made 
 as the lack of it never marred the real 
 happiness of that family-life. I could not 
 understand any one of them but Madge 
 when I first went there; in her discontent 
 was an element that I recognized from ac- 
 quaintance with self, but their restfulness 
 was doubly attractive." 
 
 " Have you found out their secret ?" asked 
 Mary, with a glance at Loraine's noble face, 
 which assuredly had acquired serenity in 
 this last year. 
 
 " Yes, I believe I have ; but grandmother 
 told it to me first," 
 
 " By a Bible verse going hand in hand 
 with a Bunyan quotation, was it not ?" 
 
 " No ; I think it was the Gospel according 
 to Leigh ton. You know Leigh ton is Bunyan 's 
 rival in her affections. One day soon after 
 I came Abby was out West, Mrs. Preston
 
 THE PICNIC. 327 
 
 was ill with a headache and poor grand- 
 mother looked tired out, but as angelic as 
 ever. ' What is the reason that when every- 
 thing goes wrong in this house there is never 
 a domestic panic, a season of scolding or 
 worry or blueness at least?' was the plain 
 question that I put to the old lady. She 
 beamed on me a minute, picked up a worn- 
 out little book and read me this, which I have 
 copied out since: 'The flower which fol- 
 lows the sun does so even in cloudy days ; 
 when it doth not shine forth, yet it follows 
 the hidden course and motion of it. So 
 the soul that moves after God keeps that 
 course when he hides his face, is content 
 yea, is glad at his will in all estates or con- 
 ditions or events. ' ' 
 
 "Well, it stands to reason that a Chris- 
 tian family believing and acting on such 
 principles must be a family with a home 
 ideally and really beautiful," said Mary ; 
 adding, a minute after, " Thank God I have 
 had a home in a measure like that !" 
 
 " I never had one, but God was good 
 enough to open a door for me into this one ; 
 and if ever in years to come I have one of
 
 328 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 my own, ' as for me and my house we will 
 serve the Lord,' " said Loraine the child of 
 an infidel. 
 
 When they reached the top of the bank 
 and retraced their way through the woods, 
 Mary suddenly exclaimed, 
 
 "Why, where is Ruth all this time? 
 The idea of running away from her ! What 
 will she think of us ?" 
 
 " I waited a little for her, but she said she 
 wanted to do something for somebody, as 
 usual, and told me to go on and she would 
 follow. Perhaps she has joined Madge." 
 
 The mention of Madge made Mary smile, 
 saying, 
 
 " Once or twice it has crossed my mind that 
 the quiet, scholarly Mr. Sedgewick might 
 find a congenial spirit in the shy, elusive 
 Ruth. He has asked a good many indirect 
 questions about the Misses Preston, I now 
 remember, and I have dwelt at length on 
 Ruth's perfections." 
 
 "Never mind; he has been quite equal, 
 no doubt, to finding out Madge's for him- 
 self," laughed Loraine. 
 
 " Oh how stupid I have been !" energet-
 
 THE PICNIC. 329 
 
 ically exclaimed Mary. " This is why he 
 stays here all his vacation ! He told me 
 last fall that he was going to tramp through 
 the Catskills this summer." 
 
 "Softly, softly, Mary! You must not 
 breathe one word of my romantic insinua- 
 tions; just wait and see. There was never 
 a person whose movements or emotions it 
 was harder to predict than those of Madge 
 Preston. Why, see! they are breaking 
 camp and getting ready to go home." 
 
 "And it is actually half-past five," ex- 
 claimed Mary, hastening her steps. 
 
 The boys brought up the carriages, the 
 ladies collected their napkins, dishes, baskets 
 and extra wraps, Abby filled a basket with 
 dainties for Moza to share with his friends 
 in the poorhouse, and finally everybody was 
 ready to depart. 
 
 Mr. Sedge wick and Madge were late in 
 arriving on the scene of action, so that the 
 order of departure, as regards the occu- 
 pants of the different vehicles, was alto- 
 gether changed. It made no difference, 
 however, as everybody was provided with 
 pleasant companions.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 RUTH'S ADVENTURE. 
 
 " The child leans on its parent's breast, 
 Leaves there its cares, and is at rest ; 
 The bird sits singing by his nest 
 
 And tells aloud 
 
 His trust in God, and so is blest 
 'Neath every cloud." 
 
 ISAAC WILLIAMS. 
 
 IF Ruth had not been at all conspicuous, 
 no one had any more enjoyed the picnic, 
 and no one seemed more essential to the 
 others' comfort. Abby was not satisfied 
 with the appearance of her table until Ruth 
 said that it was all right in every particular ; 
 grandmother had to trust to Ruth to find 
 her a nook where the ground was free from 
 " damp ;" the boys wanted Ruth's admiration 
 bestowed on their peculiar outfit for fishing ; 
 the old doctor wanted to joke Ruth, and the 
 minister's wife to pet her ; and she happened 
 about in her father's vicinity just in time to 
 
 330
 
 RUTH'S ADVENTURE, 331 
 
 prevent his investigating a hornets' nest : 
 the Professor was much more familiar with 
 schoolrooms than with glens. After dinner 
 she lingered by Cousin Jane, amusing her 
 when the others discussed a book of which 
 Ruth shrewdly guessed her cousin had 
 never heard. But after a while Mrs. Parker 
 and Mrs. Ray nor hit upon a topic of mutual 
 interest, and Ruth, who was exceedingly 
 fond of roaming the woods, gladly found 
 herself free to enjoy them to the utmost. 
 She missed Mr. Sedge wick and Madge, who 
 were not especially loud in their conversa- 
 tion ; she did not take the right course to 
 meet Loraine and Mary, but she did join 
 the boys for a half hour's frolic a mile up- 
 stream. Then, not at all sorry to be alone, 
 she hung her hat on her arm and wandered 
 where she would, gathering ferns, moss and 
 wild flowers, listening to the various birds' 
 notes, peeping after nimble squirrels who 
 were fleeing into leafy coverts, happier her- 
 self than any other of God's creatures there 
 rejoicing in sunshine and liberty. Not, by 
 any means, that Ruth was for ever thinking 
 of unseen things, of religious things or of
 
 332 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 her own self; she was not. This day her 
 thoughts were just a part of the beautiful 
 wood-life around her, all tangled in as it 
 were with the sunshine spread like a golden 
 net across the moss and leaves under the 
 arching trees. "A heart at leisure from 
 itself" can best joy in such scenes. 
 
 Naturally enough, Ruth forgot the flight 
 of time, and, straying farther, stayed away 
 longer than even Mary and Loraine. When, 
 at last, the tree-shadows on the grass suggest- 
 ed to her that the sun must be low, she 
 hurried back to the party. She heard their 
 voices a long time before she came in sight 
 of the picnic-ground. What was her sur- 
 prise, on issuing from the thick shrubbery 
 around about this last-named spot, to find it 
 entirely deserted ! It was as if the earth 
 had opened and swallowed up every trace of 
 the picnickers. No, not exactly that, either, 
 for traces of them abounded in eggshells, 
 brown paper, orange-skins and the peanut- 
 shells that marked Johnny's course. Gazing 
 off in amazement, Ruth saw far down the 
 dusty road, beyond all call, a short procession 
 of carriages rolling briskly homeward. It
 
 RUTH'S ADVENTURE. 333 
 
 took a moment or two for her to realize that 
 they had actually gone and left her, hut, the 
 truth once borne into her mind, she sat down 
 on a stump and laughed until a fat robin 
 perked his head at her as if to ask, "Are you 
 right in your wits, young woman ?" 
 
 "It is six o'clock, just," she said to herself, 
 studying her watch. " They will not know 
 that I am left here until they get home, per- 
 haps ; that will not be before a quarter-past 
 seven. Then, if somebody drives back some- 
 what faster, I shall be rescued before or 
 about eight o'clock. Well, my position is 
 by no means perilous ; no wild beasts abound. 
 If I am utterly forgotten by my short-sighted 
 relatives, I can walk half a mile across the 
 fields to that red farmhouse and spend the 
 night. I don't look like a tramp, at any 
 rate;" and she glanced down at the neat 
 blue cambric dress that she had worn to 
 please Loraine a dress that made her 
 cheeks like apple-blossoms and her hair like 
 spun gold. 
 
 Even when the sun went down, the air 
 was not chilly; and so Ruth, being tired 
 with the day's pleasure, sat quiet, singing
 
 334 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 softly to herself, laughing as she fancied the 
 dismay, when the party reached home, to 
 find her "lost, strayed or stolen," and after a 
 time watching the main road for a returning 
 friend or relative. A number of teams 
 passed, and after it grew late Ruth screened 
 herself from view. She had thought that there 
 might be going into town some farmer or per- 
 son known to her to whom she could apply, 
 but all the carts and carriages were coming 
 from town at that time of day. She was 
 not afraid ; but when the birds went to roost 
 in the darkening woods and the silence was 
 unbroken save by the lonesome sounds made 
 by the insects, Ruth was almost sorry that 
 she had not gone at once to the farmhouse. 
 What if by some strange inadvertence her 
 absence were not discovered for several 
 hours? Startled by the thought of staying 
 there until it was actually night, she rose to 
 her feet and resolved to go immediately to 
 the distant farmhouse. She drew back at 
 the sound of wheels, and, seeing a young 
 man with a fast horse dashing past, she hid 
 again behind a great bush. Scarcely had he 
 passed, and Ruth, trembling a little with ner-
 
 RUTH'S ADVENTURE. 335 
 
 vousness again, had hurried toward the road, 
 when the horse and carriage wheeled rapidly 
 around and the driver stood up and shouted 
 at the silent woods : 
 
 " Ruth ! Ruth Preston ! Are you there ?" 
 
 Whoever the person was, he had been 
 sent for Ruth ; so she crept through a gap 
 in the rail fence, ran noiselessly along the 
 dewy grass, and was by the carriage-step 
 just as the young man, straightening for a 
 mighty effort, roared, " Ruth ! Ruth Pres- 
 ton !" in a voice that verily might have 
 penetrated to the red farmhouse far, far over 
 the fields. 
 
 " Yes, but I am not at all deaf," was the 
 silvery utterance that brought the astonished 
 shouter to the knowledge of the fact that 
 Ruth's little foot was on the carriage-step. 
 She had recognized Bert Ray nor the mo- 
 merit he opened his mouth. Such war- 
 whoops were, indeed, more familiar to her 
 than were his now customary and well-mod- 
 ulated tones. 
 
 " Why, my dear little cousin !" he ex- 
 claimed, grasping her hand to help her into 
 the carriage. " If this is not the most out-
 
 3o6 THE SILENT MAX'S LEGACY. 
 
 rageous treatment for you to undergo at the 
 hands of your own family ! Do you think 
 you are all here now ? I left at least a dozen 
 women weeping, tearing their hair and de- 
 claring that I would find you devoured by 
 wild animals, frozen, starved, gone crazy 
 with terror, if not scalped by Indians. And 
 how is your health, any way, Ruth ?" 
 
 Laughingly at Bert's vehemence, Ruth 
 shook his once-more-proffered hand and 
 assured him that she was unharmed and in 
 her right mind. 
 
 "Were you not frightened-?" 
 
 " I began to be a little lonesome and to 
 wish I had a sister Anne here to help watch 
 for the cloud of dust." 
 
 "And because you took me for a Blue- 
 beard you let me pass you without knowing 
 that you were there?" 
 
 " Exactly. I hid behind an elderberry 
 bush until you Well, not to mince mat- 
 ters, howled," she replied, gayly. 
 
 "Didn't I? Well, I found you. Now, 
 why don't you ask how it falls out that I am 
 your preserver the knight who rushed to 
 your rescue?"
 
 RUTH'S ADVENTURE. 337 
 
 " I suppose, so far as I have had a moment 
 to reflect, that you came because you were 
 on the spot when they discovered that I had 
 been mislaid left behind with the orange- 
 skins and the eggshells. We expected that 
 you would put in an appearance yesterday, 
 and hoped that you would be here for this 
 picnic." 
 
 " If I had come, you would not have been 
 treated so shabbily. I always count the 
 members of my family wTien I bring them 
 home for the night. But really, Ruth, this 
 is a queer way to meet you. Madge has 
 given me such a very exalted idea of your 
 dignity and your general superiority to the 
 rest of us poor mortals that I planned to 
 enter your presence in the most decorous 
 style with some exceedingly wise sentiment 
 on my lips." 
 
 "Well, I can assure you that I am just 
 now twice as glad to see you as I could have 
 been in almost any other circumstances. 
 Your old-time yell was sweeter in my ears 
 than a quotation from Marcus Aurelius 
 would have been." 
 
 " Then I am perfectly content to have
 
 338 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 come hooting and howling upon the stage," 
 laughed Bert. 
 
 " Did you not find your mother looking 
 better than your father gave you reason to 
 suppose she looks ? We think that she has 
 improved rapidly in the days since he went 
 away." 
 
 " I am glad indeed to hear you say that. 
 In the excitement to-night over your loss 
 she was naturally .very animated; I should 
 not have seen any difference if I had not 
 been watching closely to detect how she had 
 changed. She came up stairs with difficulty. 
 Poor mother ! I can't bear to think of her 
 breaking up in health while she is still a 
 comparatively young woman." 
 
 " Dr. Hickox speaks very encouragingly 
 about her case." 
 
 " For the present. But I fear another 
 and a worse attack." replied Bert, sadly, all 
 the lightness gone from his manner now; 
 and Ruth, for the first time looking in his 
 face, discovered there a strength and an at- 
 tractive manliness which had been undevel- 
 oped in the boy Bert, best known to her. 
 " Yes, I must be good to her in these days,
 
 RUTH'S ADVENTURE. 339 
 
 for she has been a dear, good mother to me," 
 lie added, tenderly. 
 
 "I am glad that she does not seem at all 
 despondent about herself," said Ruth. 
 
 " Father thinks that she does not under- 
 stand the gravity of that attack, and I hope 
 that she does not. I rejoice to know that 
 she is here among such kind, cheerful peo- 
 ple. If she were at a summer hotel, I 
 should feel very sorry for her. Mother has 
 not cared very much this past year for the 
 things that she used most to enjoy society 
 and travel and in a mild way what you 
 might call fashion. She has often seemed 
 lonely ; and when your mother's invitation 
 came, she welcomed it heartily. She has 
 written me since she arrived of how calm 
 and restful it seems here, and of what a 
 lovely old saint Grandmother Grey is. I 
 knew that well enough before." 
 
 " Yes, she has spent a great deal of time 
 in long serious talks with grandmother." 
 
 " It is hard for me," said Bert, gently, " to 
 think that my own mother could be any bet- 
 ter or needs to be, but I have thought if she 
 could come out the kind of a Christian that
 
 340 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 your grandmother and your mother and 
 I think that you are yourself, Ruth, why 
 then perhaps her own life would be more 
 satisfying and she would feel less lonely." 
 
 " Grandmother told me something last 
 night that you will be pleased to hear," said 
 Ruth. " Your mother likes our minister, Mr. 
 Edgecomb, very much, and a few days ago 
 she told him that she wanted to confess her 
 faith in Christ at the next communion in 
 our church. She said that you joined this 
 church, and that that was a reason for her 
 uniting with Mr. Edgecomb's people." 
 
 It was quite dark now, yet some way 
 Ruth knew there were tears in Bert's eyes 
 when he answered huskily : 
 
 " I have been a poor specimen for mother 
 to study, Ruth, and sometimes I have 
 thought that I had no business to call my- 
 self a Christian ; but this I know that at 
 that time I was sincere in wishing to follow 
 Christ, and I believed that I loved him. 
 Later I was not sure of anything. About 
 a year ago I began to get ashamed of my- 
 self; I think it was a healthy symptom. I 
 read my Bible and let Darwin and Huxley
 
 RUTH'S ADVENTURE. 341 
 
 alone. I began to pray and fool away less 
 time, and I have got now where life seems 
 worth living." 
 
 "I am so glad for you," said a voice 
 which Bert thought wonderfully sweet and 
 sympathetic. 
 
 Five minutes more, and Ruth and Bert 
 were received by the assembled family with a 
 perfect uproar of excuses, greetings, expla- 
 nations, laughter, and even tears ; for Grand- 
 mother Grey feared that her precious Ruth 
 would feel " so hurt to be forgotten and left 
 in the woods." She meekly begged pardon 
 for her share in the naughty deed, and was 
 comforted only by a hug and with the assur- 
 ance that " the woods were lovely at sunset," 
 and that Ruth had enjoyed her ride home 
 with Bert very much indeed. 
 
 Abby had spread a tempting supper, of 
 which no one had partaken during the time 
 that Bert was absent in search of Ruth, but 
 now, happy and hungry, everybody ate, 
 talked and laughed. 
 
 Madge, seated by Bert, rattled on in her 
 merriest mood, as much at ease as if a cer- 
 tain episode were a matter of years past and
 
 342 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 of no account any way. Bert in his heart 
 fully agreed with Madge, if such were her 
 opinion of bygone events. He answered 
 some of her sallies and paid far more heed 
 to his mother, seated on his right, but more 
 than once he lost himself in admiring con- 
 templation of Ruth's fair spiritual face, 
 framed in that exquisite golden hair. What 
 a blockhead of a boy he must have been to 
 have thought her colorless and too quiet! 
 The longer he watched her, the more she im- 
 pressed him, until he wondered that he had 
 dared go " bawling " after such an ethereal 
 creature and joking with her as he might 
 have done with Madge. Madge was his 
 equal a "jolly good " companion but to- 
 ward this sister of hers he could easily fore- 
 see that he was to feel more reverently yes, 
 far more tenderly. All at once it came to 
 him, as his mother asked about city matters 
 and Abby urged him to take cold chicken, 
 that he always had felt something akin to 
 these sentiments for Ruth the child, Ruth 
 the young maiden. 
 
 Later in the evening, when some of the
 
 RUTH'S ADVENTURE. 343 
 
 older ones had retired and others of the 
 family were entertaining Bert in the parlor, 
 Loraine, going to the dining-room for a glass 
 of water, said to Abby, 
 
 " Have you had a happy day ?" 
 " That I have, and every day seems to be 
 happy since I came into my fortune, but 
 especially since I found my orphan. How 
 could I ever have squandered all that money 
 on myself? I never could have done it, of 
 course. But money isn't the point, either ; 
 it is neither here nor there, as you might 
 say. Anybody ought to be happy in a 
 Christian home ; and if a home ain't Chris- 
 tian, it ought to be. It has got to be if it is 
 going to be happy. Then, when a body is 
 happy that way, it is the most natural thing 
 to go looking for orphans and sick folks, and 
 ignorant people and outcasts, and showing 
 them how God is their Father and wants to 
 give them a home-feeling if only they'll let 
 him. A home-feeling isn't absolutely de- 
 pendent on a home." 
 
 " What do you mean by that, Abby ?" 
 " Well, when I was out West in that hor- 
 rid mining-town with rough and dirty folks,
 
 344 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 I did not feel at home in one sense, I can tell 
 you, Miss Faye, but in another way I had 
 the feeling when I went out starry nights, 
 for instance, and looked up a-realizing that 
 He was my Father and their Father too, 
 caring for all of us and wanting me to care 
 for the others. Yes, it was a home-feeling, 
 and I was happy." 
 
 " I understand, for I have found it," said 
 Loraine, "and I think I shall never again 
 be alone." 
 
 " Yes, the Christian carries his home 
 around with him if so be he is poor, and 
 he keeps it till he changes it for heaven, I 
 do believe." 
 
 " Come to prayers," said Johnny, putting 
 his head in the doorway. 
 
 The Professor opened to a chapter quite 
 new to Loraiue, and two verses of it lingered 
 in her memory long afterward like a strain 
 of music : " And the work of righteousness 
 shall be peace, and the effect of righteous- 
 ness quietness and assurance for ever. And 
 my people shall dwell in a peaceable habita- 
 tion, and in sure dwellings, and in quiet 
 resting-places."
 
 CHAPTEK XVIII. 
 
 MRS. PRESTON RECEIVES A SHOCK. 
 
 " O life and love ! O happy throng 
 Of thoughts whose only speech is song ! 
 O heart of man, canst thou not be 
 Blithe as the air is, and as free ?" 
 
 LOXGFELLOW. 
 
 WILLING, and even glad, as all were to 
 do it, the amusing of Mrs. Raynor, 
 added to the necessary care that she must 
 have, had been a real tax upon the time 
 and the strength of both Ruth and Madge. 
 They were very glad that after Bert's arrival 
 she was wholly taken up with him. Every 
 morning he took her for a long drive, every 
 afternoon she wanted him to read and talk 
 to her, and in the evening she enjoyed with 
 him the family intercourse. Sometimes one 
 of the girls rode with them, but not nearly 
 as often as they were urged to do. It was 
 Madge who went most frequently, and her
 
 346 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 exuberant spirits made her a most desirable 
 companion for the invalid. 
 
 One beautiful morning, a,s the mother and 
 her son were going slowly along a swamp- 
 road not very good for travel, but very 
 picturesque, Mrs. Kaynor said, 
 
 " What a cool woods-odor comes from the 
 dense foliage ! And see those lovely ferns ! 
 Stop the horse here in the shade and let us 
 rest a while." 
 
 " I wish that one of the girls had come," 
 said Bert, leaning out of the carriage and 
 picking the ferns that grew almost under the 
 wheels. 
 
 " Yes. I urged Ruth, but she was unde- 
 cided when she saw Mr. Sedgewick coming in 
 at the gate ; and while I was finding Madge 
 to secure her both escaped me, and Abby 
 said they told her that they were too busy 
 and I must excuse them." 
 
 "Who is this Sedgewick? He comes to 
 the house rather often, doesn't he?" 
 
 " Yes ; lately he does call often er than he 
 did when I first came. He is a very genial 
 man, and you will like him. I kept out of 
 his way for a while, because, of course, he is
 
 MRS. PRESTON RECEIVES A SHOCK. 347 
 
 intellectual and all that ; but he is as cour- 
 teous to me as if I knew something. Ruth 
 and he talk by the hour about books." 
 
 " Then he comes to see Kuth ?" 
 
 "Well," said Mrs. Ray nor, with an ex- 
 pression severely judicial, "I cannot posi- 
 tively affirm that he does, but I believe so. 
 He first came, I think, to visit the Professor, 
 but between him and Ruth there is great 
 congeniality ; all their tastes are similar." 
 
 "I fancied that it might be That is, 
 doesn't Madge like him?" 
 
 Mrs. Raynor detected the shade that 
 passed over Bert's face, and fancied she 
 could bring him into the sunshine again : 
 
 " ' Like him ' ? Oh, no doubt. But then, 
 you know, they are utterly unlike, and 
 Now I think of it, perhaps she does not like 
 him. I have heard her say they had some 
 little unpleasantness when he first came to 
 the academy." 
 
 It was very still in the swamp. The tap- 
 tap of ti woodpecker could be heard far off 
 in the woods, and no other sound but the 
 stir of the tree-tops. 
 
 " How very light-hearted Madge seems !"
 
 348 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 said the mother, after a long silence. " I 
 noticed it about the time that you came, 
 Bert. I was afraid that after the past she 
 might feel ill at ease." 
 
 Bert seemed just that. He hurriedly re- 
 plied : 
 
 " She had no reason to feel so. I am not 
 sure that a team could pass us here ; had we 
 not better go on ?" 
 
 "Oh, we will hear any one coming in 
 time to drive on to where the road is wider. 
 Madge is a wonderfully capable girl ; I never 
 half appreciated her until I saw her here at 
 home. She was like any girl fond of fun 
 and dress, and flattery too when she was 
 with me that time at the seaside ; I am now 
 surprised to see her unselfishness and her real 
 stability of character. She has matured great- 
 ly since she since Well, since she did not 
 know her own mind in regard to you." 
 
 Mrs. Raynor paused, hoping for some 
 rather confidential communication, but all 
 Bert said was, 
 
 " I think she knew her own mind accu- 
 rately." 
 
 " Oh, after a fashion. You were too pre-
 
 MRS. PRESTOX RECEIVES A SHOCK. 349 
 
 cipitate and did not give her time to like you. 
 She has had it, and Well, all I have to 
 say is that she was very frank in telling how 
 pleased she was that you were coming to 
 visit, and she is very happy since you ar- 
 rived." 
 
 " Has father written you about his West- 
 ern lands ? You know that three thousand 
 dollars he invested and the fun we had about 
 
 the city of L , which numbered only a 
 
 few hundred inhabitants when he bought? 
 Well, it is a city now, and his land went up, 
 until he sold three weeks ago and cleared 
 forty thousand dollars. I suppose, accord- 
 ing to-the ideas of people like the Prestons, 
 we are very rich. It is comfortable very," 
 he soliloquized; "but there are things that 
 money can't buy." A droll smile played 
 around his mouth as he added, " I suspect, 
 though, that it almost bought me a wife 
 upon one occasion ; Madge was honest enough 
 to tell me something to that effect. I won- 
 der if she is the only mercenary one in the 
 family ?" 
 
 "You are very unjust, Bert. Naturally, 
 the poor thing, who could scarcely buy a
 
 350 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 new ribbon without some sacrifice, wanted 
 more means." 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! And she acted more nobly 
 than even you think," asserted Bert. 
 
 Mrs. Raynor looked delighted at this 
 speech ; evidently, matters would arrange 
 themselves agreeably in due time: 
 
 "Yes, money is nothing to them merely 
 as a means of show or extravagance. Madge 
 would do credit to a fine establishment ; Ruth 
 would" 
 
 "Would what?" asked the young man, 
 promptly. 
 
 " Well, be a little like a stray angel with 
 a fat pocket-book likely to drop it any- 
 where the first time she ran to somebody's 
 assistance," said Mrs. Raynor. 
 
 " A sensible angel would do the assisting 
 with some of the contents, and Ruth is sen- 
 sible." 
 
 " Ruth is about perfect," said the mother. 
 
 The son said nothing. 
 
 The morning after the picnic, and in view 
 of Bert Raynor's arrival, Mrs. Preston 
 awake at last to the fact that her little maids
 
 MRS. PRESTON RECEIVES A SHOCK. 351 
 
 were fully grown and very fair took Madge 
 and warned her to be very careful not to 
 make any more mistakes in her relations 
 with Bert. To her surprise, Madge blushed 
 scarlet, laughed a little hysterically and as- 
 sured her mother that mistakes were "im- 
 possible " between Bert and herself. 
 
 " Very well, dear ; I am glad to hear it," 
 said Mrs. Preston, adding roguishly, " I 
 might have remembered that you never in 
 any circumstances mean to marry. That 
 one experience of an engagement was too 
 harrowing." 
 
 Mrs. Raynor had no thought beyond a 
 purely random jest, and great was her as- 
 tonishment when Madge began an incohe- 
 rent account of "yesterday, after dinner 
 and a walk and Mr. Sedgewick and a 
 mud-turtle and she did not think anything 
 about it at the time " (though why she should 
 think anything of the mud-turtle to-day was 
 the floating query in her mother's mind) ; 
 and "he talked and talked" (now, evidently, 
 not the turtle, but the gentleman), and 
 
 " He said he loved me." 
 
 "And what did you say?" asked Mrs.
 
 352 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 Preston, after a gasp and a kind of implor- 
 ing look at Ruth. 
 
 " Oh, don't you be afraid that I did any 
 rash thing that will have to be undone. I 
 I am going to take time for reflection." 
 
 41 Why, you used to be very unjust and 
 crusty to Mr. Sedge wick," exclaimed Ruth. 
 
 " That is just what I am going to reflect 
 on, and repent, perhaps. I had to be crusty 
 when I fancied he was wronging father." 
 
 "Madge," said her mother, more sternly 
 than the sisters had heard her speak since 
 they were children, " are you capable of tri- 
 fling with a man like Mr. Sedgewick, and of 
 letting him suppose that you might marry 
 him if you do not know whether or not you 
 even like him ?" 
 
 " No, indeed !" replied Madge, warmly. 
 "I do like him very much. I I might 
 have said ' Yes ' right away, I suppose, but 
 I thought this time I would be very wise 
 and prudent; and here you don't approve 
 of me this way, either;" and tears started 
 in the great brown eyes so full of light a 
 moment before. 
 
 " You dear silly child !" said her mother ;
 
 MRS. PRESTON RECEIVES A SHOCK. 353 
 
 " if you were in earnest, I approve of you 
 very much. But Mr. Sedgewick is very 
 dignified and intellectual." 
 
 " I should want my him to be." 
 
 "And will probably never be a rich man 
 maybe always as poor as your father was 
 before we inherited this money." 
 
 " Father was poor, but you married him, 
 and you always led us to think you were 
 happy." 
 
 " Madge," replied her mother, with a little 
 quaver in her voice, " I don't think Mr. 
 Sedgewick need be distressed at his prospects 
 during the period that you will take for re- 
 flection." 
 
 The mother and daughter talked very 
 earnestly a long time after that, for under- 
 neath Madge's sometimes light words was a 
 really solemn sense that now she knew what 
 a true, unselfish love meant. The knowledge 
 awed her and awakened all her womanliness. 
 When they were about to separate, Madge 
 said to her mother, 
 
 " Do you think it is necessary that the 
 Raynors should know just yet? I would 
 rather, on some accounts, that they did not 
 
 23
 
 354 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 know. Bert is perfectly at ease with me, 
 and has, I feel certain, gotten over all the 
 sentimental fancy it was nothing more 
 that he had for me; but Aunt Jane 
 Well, she would not like to see Mr. Sedge- 
 wick here if she thought he came especially 
 to see me, and the little while she stays I 
 want her to be comfortable." 
 
 " I understand," returned Mrs. Preston, 
 reflecting; "she would be a little mortified 
 to see another preferred to Bert. After they 
 go home and your season of * reflection ' is 
 ended we can write them. Very well; it 
 makes no difference ;" and the good lady 
 went to seek the Professor and to surprise 
 him in turn. 
 
 "No, of course it makes no difference, 
 unless, as mother thinks, Cousin Jane might 
 feel disappointed," meditated Ruth. "And 
 yet I think Madge is a little unjust to Bert; 
 he is capable of a great deal more intense 
 feeling than she supposes. I like him, and I 
 am sorry for him."
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 u BLESSED ARE THE PURE IN HEART." 
 
 " The more we are filled with the loving, persuasive, trans- 
 forming spirit of Christ, the more intense, beneficent, hopeful 
 and enduring will be the wayside service of our lives. ... It 
 is the service of life for life, heart for heart, spirit upon spirit." 
 J. R. MILLER. 
 
 IT was Sunday, and the first day of Sep- 
 tember. Every one who formed a part 
 of the Preston household was going to 
 church, and the exercises of the day were 
 to be in a more or less degree of peculiar 
 interest to all. It was communion Sabbath, 
 and Mrs. Raynor was to unite with the 
 visible Church of Christ on confession of 
 her faith in him. Bert was at her side to 
 renew the vows taken a few years before, 
 and he felt that his hope and belief rest- 
 ed on surer grounds than in those earlier 
 days. He had learned much of his <>\vu 
 
 255
 
 356 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 weakness and more of his Saviour's suffi- 
 ciency. 
 
 It was an extremely beautiful day, and 
 Grandma Grey, who could not always en- 
 dure the fatigue of the public exercises of 
 the sanctuary, had been counting much on 
 sitting to-day at the table of her Lord in 
 company with her dear ones. She went 
 from the breakfast-table to her room ; and 
 when Ruth heard the key softly turned in the 
 lock, she knew that, as Abby quaintly put it, 
 the old saint was " adorning her soul " in 
 garments of praise and prayer. Indeed, this 
 morning so absorbed did she get in this 
 occupation that a little time before the first 
 church-bell rang Ruth had to stand outside 
 her threshold and say in her pretty petting 
 way, 
 
 "Dearie, I'm afraid you will not be 
 dressed in time if I don't come now and 
 help you." 
 
 The door was quickly opened, and the old 
 lady somewhat nervously bustled about her 
 preparations. 
 
 "Not the black dress to-day, grandma; 
 that is for dull weather," said Ruth. "I
 
 "BLESSED ARE THE PURE IN HEART?' 357 
 
 like that soft gray cashmere so much better ; 
 it makes me think of a dove's breast." 
 
 " Or a nice old Quakeress, as Abby thinks. 
 Well, the Quakers are a peaceful people, and 
 often very godly in their walk," returned the 
 old lady, taking from her closet the dress 
 that Ruth preferred ; and then she meekly 
 resigned herself to the young girl's dainty 
 touches. When her snow-white locks were 
 in order, the soft lace kerchief that went 
 about her neck folded over on her bosom, 
 and when she had laid out her large-print 
 hyinnbook and her tiny " smelling-bottle," 
 she was as fair and sweet as any bride. 
 
 " Go now and put on your bonnet, Ruthie, 
 while I rest a few minutes," she said, seating 
 herself by the open window and crooning a 
 psalm -tune. 
 
 When the first bell had ceased ringing, 
 the Professor came to the old lady's door, 
 saying, 
 
 " Mother, you and I will start on and go 
 slowly down the hill ; then you can rest a 
 bit before the services begin." 
 
 "Philip, don't mention it to the others, 
 but I believe I had better not venture out
 
 358 THE SILEST JA4JVS LEGACY. 
 
 to-day, after all; I feel a little faint and 
 unsteady on my feet. It is nothing new at 
 all, but at such times I am better to keep 
 quiet." 
 
 " Oh, I am sorry, mother' for I know you 
 wanted to go to the communion. I will just 
 hurry on and ask some one from the country 
 who has a horse and carriage at the church 
 to drive up here and get you. Mr. Ellers 
 will gladly come, and will bring you home 
 at noon." 
 
 " No, dear ; I really do not think that I 
 can sit up all the forenoon." 
 
 At this point Mrs. Preston and Ruth ap- 
 peared, and grandmother's plan of staying 
 alone was promptly discarded as not to be 
 allowed at all; "for you might faint or be 
 very ill and need help," Mrs. Preston de- 
 clared. 
 
 It distressed the old lady to have any one 
 of them stay, until last of all Johnny's 
 name was mentioned, and after a moment's 
 reflection she consented, saying, 
 
 " Johnny is not a church-member, as all 
 the rest of you are, so he will not miss as 
 much by staying. And then I haven't seen
 
 "BLESSED ARE THE PURE IN HEART." 359 
 
 the boy a great deal lately, lie is so busy at 
 one thing and another." 
 
 It was easy after that to arrange every- 
 thing satisfactorily, and with tender words 
 of regret to the old lady and many admo- 
 nitions to Johnny to be " real good to his 
 grandma," the family started off down the 
 hillside avenue toward the village church. 
 
 Johnny brought a hatful of apples and 
 two or three books, and settled himself in 
 one corner of grandma's capacious lounge. 
 She assured him that if he would not go 
 quite out of the sound of her voice or her 
 little bell he need not stay close by her, 
 
 Johnny said, " All right," but being, for a 
 wonder in the mood to read, he found him- 
 self very comfortable. He was perfectly well 
 aware that if he stayed long enough the old 
 lady would "talk pious" to him, and John- 
 ny was not more spiritually-minded than are 
 most rollicking boys of his age. At the same 
 time, piety was not an element that he could 
 even in imagination eliminate from grand- 
 ma's character ; and was not that character as 
 a whole a never-failing revelation of kindli- 
 ness ? If he had tried to put his idea of her
 
 360 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 into words, how touched and amused yes, 
 and perhaps shocked she would have been ! 
 She was a special providence to him. He did 
 not love her better than he loved his mother, 
 but she was more quick in looking over his 
 transgressions into his good intentions. He 
 did not suppose that she had sinned for 
 years, and no one on earth made such 
 "doughnuts or such ball-covers as did 
 grandma." 
 
 Johnny munched apples and read and 
 swung his heels in content until he reached 
 the last page of the book, and then he 
 tossed it aside. He looked out the window 
 and called to the cat; he looked at his 
 grandfather's portrait over the bed, and 
 thought of him as having been dead nearly 
 as long as Moses in fact, for no conceivable 
 reason, Johnny fancied that he resembled 
 Moses ; then he looked at his grandmother. 
 Her sweet face was calm, but there were tears 
 in her faded blue eyes. 
 
 " Does your back .ache ?" he asked, sym- 
 pathetically. 
 
 "No, little boy; I was thinking how I 
 would like to be down in the church with
 
 "BLESSED ARE THE PURE IN HEART." 361 
 
 the others. It is a holy, holy day and a 
 precious feast." 
 
 " It is only bread and wine," *;aid 
 Johnny, under his breath, curious, but not 
 irreverent, as he tried to follow the old 
 lady's thought. 
 
 " That is all that you see ; but, my child, 
 if you are thinking of the spotless Son of 
 God, who lived down here among men and 
 loved and blessed them if you realize that, 
 though he ascended into heaven, he said to 
 those who loved him, ' Lo, I am with you 
 alway,' and that he is a friend, a helper, 
 to-day as much as yes, more than when 
 he walked the streets of Jerusalem, then, 
 Johnny, this communion means, not bread 
 and wine, but meeting the blessed Saviour. 
 The last time I sat in the church on a com- 
 munion Sunday was before your uncle 
 Henry died ; I have been there since then 
 on other Sundays. Well, that day we were 
 all in trouble ; your pa was poor and your 
 ma sick, and I felt pretty low in my mind. 
 I had only ten cents that I 'thought I ought 
 to put into the plate for the poor of the 
 church, and that grieved me, until just
 
 362 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 before the plate came to ine I happened to 
 think that I might just give it to Jesus; he 
 knew how I loved him and loved his poor. 
 He was at his own feast, and was he not 
 Lord of the whole earth, as when he made 
 water wine and the little loaves and fishes 
 into plenty for thousands? And, Johnny," 
 whispered the old lady, " some way I never 
 knew who held out that plate to me, for it 
 seemed to me as if the Lord himself stood 
 there holding out his hands and I was fall- 
 ing at his feet in adoration. It is love that 
 makes that a feast; it is the remembrance 
 of him that calls out that love in us. Don't 
 you love the Saviour, Johnny ?" 
 
 "I ain't good enough to, but I can't help 
 it sometimes," said the boy, his own eyes 
 very misty. 
 
 " Do you stop loving me when you are 
 not good ?" 
 
 " No ; I love you all the better then, 
 'cause you are forgiving and you set me 
 straight again." 
 
 "And I love you when you are not good 
 because you need me most then. Now, 
 Johnny, you know about your Saviour all
 
 " BLESSED ARE THE PURE IN HEART." 363 
 
 that any one can teach you, and what you 
 ought to do is to think more about him, to 
 love him better every day, to pray for help 
 to do his commandments, and then to go 
 down there to the dear old church and 
 stand up among his people." 
 
 Johnny sat in silence a long time. 
 
 "Some of these Sundays I will not be 
 here," continued the old lady. 
 
 "Are you going to New York?" 
 
 " No, child, but to heaven, and I want to 
 know that you are following the Saviour on 
 earth and coming to be with me there." 
 
 " I surely will, grandmother, but I shall 
 be awful clumsy about it, for I am slow, 
 any way, you know," he exclaimed, sitting 
 up resolutely. 
 
 " We are all clumsy and slow, dear, until 
 the Lord gets through teaching us, but his 
 patience never gives out. Now I am a 
 little tired, and you may run out in the 
 garden and pick me my Sunday bouquet. 
 But first turn over my Silent Comforter 
 and let me see the verse for to-day as I lie 
 on my bed." 
 
 Grandma went to rest herself a while,
 
 364 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 reading, as Johnny turned the leaves on the 
 wall, 
 
 " ' Blessed are the pure in heart ; for they 
 shall see God.' That is beautiful. And 
 never forget that we don't have to wait for 
 purity until we get to heaven. Ask the 
 Lord to keep making your heart pure every 
 day of your life, and then God will manifest 
 himself to you ; he promises that in his 
 gospel." 
 
 Johnny lingered by the bed, fingering 
 grandma's kerchief with boyish admiration. 
 
 " Why don't you wear it every day ? 
 You look awfully pretty," he asked. 
 
 Mrs. Grey laughed with innocent pleasure, 
 and the lad half bashfully kissed her 
 wrinkled cheek, because he felt very old in 
 these days and thought kissing childish ; 
 then he went to the garden. There he 
 struggled with the desire to make such a 
 bouquet as he liked, and with the conviction 
 that the sort that Ruth made were more in 
 accordance with grandmother's tastes. The 
 biggest, most flaunting blossoms with what 
 he characteristically termed " the loudest 
 gmell " were most beautiful in his eyes. He
 
 "SLESSED ARE THE PURE IN HEART." 365 
 
 was in a softened mood, however ; so, coming 
 on a bed of purest white lilies, he picke 1 a 
 double handful, and with a cluster of rose- 
 geraniuni leaves carried them, back to the 
 old lady. He found a vase and arranged 
 them on the table by the bed, first laying a 
 number of them on her breast, and felt 
 rewarded when she warmly praised his good 
 taste. He took another book then, and read 
 until noon in the piazza. 
 
 It was a long, peaceful morning a good 
 morning in the congregation of saints 
 gathered in the church, a holy morning to 
 the saint in the silent room which the fair 
 lilies filled with perfume. She touched no 
 broken bread, no silver wine-cup, but great 
 blessedness came to her. 
 
 At noon, with a common impulse, the 
 family turned toward grandmother's room to 
 see if she were feeling better. Ruth stayed 
 them with finger on lip, whispering, 
 
 " Fast asleep with flowers on her bosom." 
 Abby gazed fixedly, went forward slowly, 
 stood hesitating, touched one wrinkled icy 
 hand and broke into a long, bitter wail.
 
 366 THE STLENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 When grief had had free course for hours 
 and the grandchildren were quite spent with 
 crying, they gathered again around that bed, 
 and the pastor whom their grandmother 
 loved so well soothed them with tender, 
 hopeful words memories of the rare life 
 here ended begun above, promises of blessed 
 reunion a little later and inspirations to 
 follow Christ as closely as she had done. It 
 was very sad for them, but they could not 
 help acknowledging that in no more loving 
 way could the death-angel have summoned 
 grandma's pure spirit. His touch had left 
 no trace of pain on her face; he had not 
 even shaken the earth-flowers from her 
 grasp. Suddenly, without struggle or suf- 
 fering, she had joined the redeemed. 
 
 Very often the death of the aged is only 
 a relief to the living ; this ought not so to be. 
 It will not be if the departed soul has been 
 a fit dwelling-place for the Holy Spirit and 
 graces have ripened with years.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 RUTH. 
 
 "The grand essentials of happiness are something to do, 
 something to love and something to hope for." CHALMERS. 
 
 THE summer came to a speedy end, aiid 
 much earlier than usual the leaves '11, 
 while the autumn winds and rain made out- 
 door exercise very dismal. 
 
 After Grandmother Grey's death Mrs. 
 Kay nor found the atmosphere of the house 
 a little depressing, although every one 
 showed her a cheerful face. They mourned, 
 and could not conceal the fact. She herself 
 missed the confidential, earnest Christian in- 
 tercourse with the old lady an intercourse 
 that had been to her of incalculable value. 
 She was, therefore, not unwilling to reti rn 
 to her own home when Bert found it neces- 
 sary to resume his business. 
 
 Mrs. Raynor was so much better in both 
 mind and body that her friends felt assured
 
 368 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 that life would never again mean to her the 
 aimless existence it had meant. They were 
 sorry to have her go from them ; if not a 
 very interesting person, she was kind and, 
 as Abby privately designated her, " harm- 
 less." With Bert one and all were heartily 
 unwilling to part, for more winning kindness 
 and thoughtful consideration of other people's 
 interests could not well be found in any other 
 young man whom they knew. Sometimes 
 they fancied that he was fast losing his for- 
 mer gayety and acquiring a gravity that oc- 
 casionally seemed like melancholy ; but if 
 any demands were made on him at such 
 times, he was eager to be helpful. His moth- 
 er had a theory that accounted for his state 
 of mind, and she wrote to his father that 
 Bert found it rather trying that Madge would 
 give him no " encouragement." 
 
 Ruth shared Mrs. Raynor's views so far 
 as Bert's low spirits were concerned, and she 
 too thought that he had better go home. 
 For the first time in Ruth's own sunny life 
 she was inclined to look down instead of 
 looking up, in instead of around, and to be 
 despondent. Nobody seemed especially to
 
 RUTH. 369 
 
 need her. The mother's cares were lifted ; 
 Madge was very happy, and was being taken 
 out of Ruth's life, at least Madge had 
 now a closer friend; Loraine was busily 
 content in her school ; and, saddest of all, 
 there was no dear old grandmother to pet 
 and to be petted in a quiet corner of that 
 now still and unoccupied room where Ruth 
 used to take all her troubles. Bert would 
 gladly have spent more of his time with 
 Ruth, but she was elusive, and after that 
 first evening never so accessible. 
 
 By the first day of October, therefore, 
 the Raynors were settled in their city home, 
 and the Professor's household seemed quieter 
 than ever before. 
 
 Abby and " Dr. Hickox about this time 
 were doing for Moza. Since the day of the 
 picnic the doctor had taken the boy under 
 his care professionally, and the result was 
 surprising. From the first the doctor had 
 believed that exercise would restore the power 
 to Moza's limbs, which, he insisted, were not 
 really paralyzed. He had so far benefited 
 the boy that he could walk with two crutches, 
 and the doctor declared that in time his gen- 
 
 24
 
 370 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 era! health would be very good, and, as his 
 mind had never been in the least impaired, 
 he could learn a trade. He would be lame 
 in one leg for life, but that seemed nothing 
 to the poor fellow who once expected to be 
 bedridden and a pauper all his days. After 
 many talks with him the doctor had a plan 
 of his own for the boy, whom he found by 
 no means dull. Early in October he re- 
 moved him from the county-house and 
 lodged him with his aunt, who was glad to 
 do anything that she could for him, but who 
 was too poor to feed or clothe him. Every 
 morning he hobbled over to the doctor's 
 office, which fortunately was within easy dis- 
 tance. There he acted as office-boy all clay, 
 taking messages and keeping things tidy, or 
 sometimes driving for the doctor. The office 
 was in the house, and in return for his serv- 
 ices Moza had comfortable food and decent 
 clothing. He could not earn more ; often 
 he shrewdly guessed that he did not earn 
 that much, for active boys able to harness 
 the horse and do stable-work sometimes ap- 
 plied for his situation, but the doctor sent 
 them away.
 
 RUTH. 371 
 
 Abby it was, however, who gave Moza his 
 best start in life when one day she said to 
 him, 
 
 " Moza, in this world there is something 
 sort of curious that I've noticed real often. 
 Some folks the Lord means to go through 
 on their legs, and some folks on their heads : 
 I've been thinking maybe you are meant to 
 go on your head." 
 
 Moza's great black eyes opened in amaze- 
 ment. Dr. Hickox had put him through 
 many kinds of bodily exercises, but noth- 
 ing quite so erratic as locomotion upside 
 down. 
 
 " I mean like this ;" and Abby extended 
 a number six shoe with a " common-sense " 
 heel with vast dimensions. " Evidently, he 
 meant me to make them carry me around 
 lively 'from morn till dewy eve,' as the 
 hymn says. I knew so because my head was 
 that useless for learning anything out of books 
 whereby I might earn my bread and butter 
 that reading almost made it rickety, and 
 'rithmetic Well, I tell you I am thank- 
 ful I've got ten fingers to count on, and I 
 use 'em, too, oftener than any multiplication- 

 
 372 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 table. For me digging would be fun, but 
 study Oh, my gracious!" 
 
 Abby very seldom indulged in expletives, 
 so Moza felt that she was greatly in earnest 
 when she continued: 
 
 " Now, it was what the Professor calls a 
 ' wise provision of Nature ' meaning Provi- 
 dence, of course that weak and nobbly legs 
 often carry first-class head-pieces. I'm in- 
 clined to think, Moza, that you could learn 
 out of books." 
 
 "Oh, I love to do it! The doctor has 
 promised me a lot of old school-books. 
 You know I always kept up with my classes 
 before I got hurt." 
 
 "Exactly. Then fill your head full of 
 the kind of information that will some day 
 make you independent of of your legs ; 
 then you can be a doctor yourself." 
 
 " Could I ?" exclaimed Moza. 
 
 " It ain't for me to say, so far as the main 
 thing is concerned ; it is for your head to 
 carry you there." 
 
 "Where?" asked Moza; for Abby nodded 
 her own head as if toward some special 
 locality.
 
 EUTH. 373 
 
 "To college." 
 
 " Whew ! That costs money." 
 
 " Moza, if you will do your best to fit 
 yourself, I will see that you go," replied 
 Abby. 
 
 Was Abby not now a person of means? 
 Did she not regard Moza as her property, 
 too, and might she not help educate a 
 doctor ? 
 
 November came in a relenting mood, and 
 brought with it blue skies and balmy airs. 
 Ruth used to take long walks through the 
 quiet village streets under the leafless trees, 
 whose soft gray tracery against the sky was 
 very beautiful, and whose interlaced tops 
 again reminded her of the lovely old cathe- 
 drals she saw in that European trip that 
 sometimes seemed to her very, very long 
 ago. Then, because she was only a girl, 
 and not, as Mrs. Ray nor declared that she 
 was, either an " angel " or " perfect," Ruth 
 grew a little morbid and unreasonable, and 
 wondered if she had any place in the world, 
 and if it would have made much difference 
 to any one if she had died that time she had
 
 374 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 the fever abroad. But one day she resolved 
 that this was weak and wicked. She went 
 home and entered with new energy into the 
 family-life, perceiving almost as soon as she 
 did so that her mother looked weary and in 
 need of change of some kind. She was not 
 overworked, but the large family during 
 the summer and the death of her own 
 mother had taxed her strength physically 
 and mentally. 
 
 About the middle of December an urgent 
 invitation was received from the Raynors 
 for just as many of the Prestons as could 
 come to make them a visit extending at the 
 least over the holidays. It was at once 
 decided by Ruth and Madge that their 
 parents must go, for the needed rest and 
 change of scene ; so the week before Christ- 
 inas saw them on their way. Ruth was 
 rather glad of the added care thus thrown 
 upon her. She took on herself all her 
 mother's duties and left Madge free for 
 many seasons of reflection, but not always 
 solitary " reflection," Mr. Sedgewick fre- 
 quently assisting on these occasions. 
 
 Christmas Day was spent very quietly, for
 
 RUTH. 375 
 
 no one in the house could forget that last 
 year there was there a gracious presence which 
 had for ever gone out from them. In the 
 evening Madge, Loraine and Johnny went 
 to a Sunday-school festival in the church, 
 but Ruth, having a cold, remained at home. 
 She was sitting in the firelight singing softly 
 to herself: 
 
 " O little town of Bethlehem, 
 
 How still we see thee lie ! 
 Above thy deep and dreamless sleep 
 
 The silent hours go by. 
 Yet in thy dark streets shineth 
 
 The everlasting Light ; 
 The hopes and fears of all the years 
 
 Are met in thee to-night." 
 
 Out of a host of tender thoughts of the 
 dead, and of not less loving remembrances of 
 the living, Ruth was startled by the opening 
 of a door and the entrance of some one 
 Mr. Sedgewick, as she supposed for a mo- 
 ment, until Bert exclaimed, 
 
 " No Christmas greeting for a belated trav- 
 eler?" 
 
 Of course there was a cordial one, made 
 unrestrained by the fact that Bert was in one 
 of his sunniest moods, overflowing with the
 
 376 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 peace and good-will of the season itself. 
 When they had discussed the doings of the 
 Professor and his wife in New York and all 
 the items of interest in the respective house- 
 holds, Bert said, 
 
 "I expected to be here at noon, but we 
 were delayed by snowdrifts." 
 
 " Well, I am very glad you are here now," 
 said Ruth, pleasantly. 
 
 "Are you ? Well, I wish you would ask 
 me why I came, because I want a chance to 
 tell you the reason." 
 
 " Let us have it at once. Nothing has 
 happened to " 
 
 "Everybody is well and happy, only not 
 so happy as I was to learn yesterday that 
 Mr. Sedgewick is engaged to Madge. I 
 thought that you meant to marry him, and, 
 Ruth" 
 
 But in dialogues similar to the one which 
 followed two persons only are required to 
 sustain the parts, and no audience at all is 
 desirable. 
 
 Seven years have come and gone since 
 a June morning when in the village church
 
 RUTH. 377 
 
 "the Professor's girls" were married with 
 fair promises of happiness, and so far those 
 promises have been richly fulfilled. The 
 house on the hill still shelters the old in- 
 mates, and, contrary to the adage, another 
 family dwells there in harmony. Madge, 
 beautiful as ever, but with added dignity and 
 gentleness, is not less the devoted daughter 
 that she is herself a wife and a mother. 
 Four of the most remarkable children if 
 Abby's word is to be taken that ever were 
 born have come to keep the house gay and 
 bright with youth again. Abby ought to 
 know, for much of her time is spent in a 
 big chair with a girl on each arm and two 
 boys dangling from the back while she tells 
 of that time " I was 'way out West." The 
 Professor and Mr. Sedgewick have built up 
 a school after their own hearts, and the pres- 
 ant generation of village youths are profit- 
 ing by the fact. Loraine Faye is at the 
 head of a seminary for young women in the 
 building once known as Mrs. Allen's sem- 
 inary. In this home of her girlhood she is 
 doing noble work. 
 
 And Kuth is the wife of a millionaire,
 
 378 THE SILENT MAN'S LEGACY. 
 
 with a husband and a father-in-law eager to 
 gratify every whim. Does she spend mon- 
 ey ? Is she a power in society ? Yes. She 
 is no recluse ; she wears soft silks and vel- 
 vets ; she is often seen where the " world's 
 people " wonder at the grace and the ease 
 of a lady " in her position " who never at- 
 tends balls or theatres. She has no children 
 or she has, as Bert says, "hundreds of 
 them." Oh, they know Ruth in orphan 
 asylums ! She sends barges full of babies 
 sailing for cool breezes ; she brings delight 
 into childish hearts at every holiday, and 
 very, very often not dressed in silks she 
 moves softly through hospital wards. There 
 are rough men who bless her with dimmed 
 eyes, wicked women who reach out and touch 
 her garments for very love and gratitude. 
 Sometimes, in the presence of appalling 
 wretchedness and sin, where so young a 
 woman might naturally be dumb, it would 
 almost seem as if Grandmother Grey's man- 
 tle had descended on her, so wondrously wise, 
 so weighty with loving-kindness, are the coun- 
 sels she utters. Again, in " society " has it 
 many times happened that from the lips
 
 RUTH. 379 
 
 of an infidel, a scoffer or a " fast " man or 
 woman would fall a sneer at the faith Ruth 
 holds most holy. She never argues, seldom 
 reproaches, but a voice sweet with kindness 
 repeats a saying of the Saviour, a quaint re- 
 membered passage of old Leighton or John 
 Bunyan, and it is as if a casket of precious 
 perfume were opened on the air. 
 
 THE END.
 
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