ALBATROSS 
 NOVELS * 
 
 LOVE 
 AT SEVENTY 
 
 ALBERT ROSS 
 
 j
 
 Mrs. Mildred E.Younrjman, 
 
 Kingston, 
 Massachusetts.
 
 H .1 
 
 BESS LIBRARY
 
 THE 
 
 ALBATROSS NOVELS 
 
 By ALBERT ROSS 
 23 Volumes 
 
 May be had wherever book* are sold at the price you 
 paid for thi volume 
 
 Black Adonis, A 
 Garston Bigamy, The 
 Her Husband's Friend 
 His Foster Sister 
 His Private Character 
 la Stella's Shadow 
 Love at Seventy 
 Love Gone Astray 
 Moulding a Maiden 
 Naked Truth, The 
 New Sensation* A 
 Original Sinner, An 
 Out of Wedlock 
 Speaking of Ellen 
 Stranger Than Fiction 
 Sugar Princess, A 
 That Gay Deceiver 
 Their Marriage Bond 
 Thou Shalt Not 
 Thy Neighbor's Wife 
 Why I'm Single 
 Young Fawcett's Mabel 
 Young Miss Giddy 
 
 a W. DILLINGHAM CO. 
 
 Publishers :: :: New York
 
 LOVE AT SEVENTY, 
 
 BY ALBERT Ross. 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 44 YOUNG Miss GIDDY," " IN STELLA'S SHADOW," 
 
 "Tnou SHALT NOT," " WHY I'M SINGLE," 
 
 "AN ORIGINAL SINNER," ETC. 
 
 , Tom r he cried, " the coming on 
 of years does not deaden the heart in a 
 healthy man, nor does the springing up 
 of love in his bosom indicate decay of 
 the mental faculties." Page 286. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1M, BY G. W. DflUMANAM. 
 
 G. W. Dillingham Co., Publishers. 
 \Allrights reserved.}
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter Plage 
 
 I. Picturesque and Poor 9 
 
 II. A Bit of History 21 
 
 III. " You do not know Julie." 31 
 
 IV. The Housekeeper's Daughter 42 
 
 V. Miss Giddings is Shocked 49 
 
 VI. " I'm sure I can trust you." 58 
 
 VII. Old Man Hobbs 70 
 
 VIII. "You mean the young lady." 81 
 
 IX. Around the Post-office Fire gi 
 
 X. " I'm Roland," said he 99 
 
 XI. A Paragon of Innocence 108 
 
 XII. Playing a Game of Chess 118 
 
 XIII. "This one I met in Trieste." 127 
 
 XIV. Caught in the Act 135 
 
 XV. " Now, don't say you're sorry !".... 142 
 
 XVI. Uncle and Nephew 153 
 
 XVII. "Oh! I know some things." 167 
 
 XVIII. Beginning all Over 176 
 
 XIX. In Eva's Chamber 183 
 
 XX. "Confound his Money!" 193 
 
 XXI. Guy Takes a Journey 203 
 
 XXII. One Kiss too Many 215 
 
 w
 
 OONTBJffTB. 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 XXIII. " He will do it for me." 225 
 
 XXIV. " Poverty is a weary thing !" 236 
 
 XXV. A Benignant Old Gentleman 245 
 
 XXVI. Mr. Linnette's Strange Story 252 
 
 XXVII. " You are a cool one." 261 
 
 XXVIII. Roland and Maud 271 
 
 XXIX. Off to Gretna Green 280 
 
 XXX. " You have married her !" 289 
 
 XXXI. Everything explained 297 
 
 XXXII. A Peep at the Stars 306
 
 TO MY READERS. 
 
 After giving you stories in which the scenes are 
 located largely in Germany, France, Italy, Spain and 
 Mexico, it seems only right to return to the United 
 States and write one in which nearly every incident 
 takes place on American soil. It is true that Roland 
 Linnette tells of some of his experiences abroad, in 
 one or two chapters ; but both he, and his dear old 
 uncle, who furnishes my title, his friend Dalton, Eva 
 Warren, Maud Arlineand Tom Hobbs are essentially 
 home products. 
 
 It is sometimes gravely disputed that my charac- 
 ters are " types." Sometimes, I must explain, they 
 are not intended to be. Willard Linnette is a type, 
 Eva Warren is not ; that is to say, Eva's character 
 is too peculiar to find many duplicates in real life. 
 In the same way, going back to " Young Misa 
 Giddy," Senator Scarlett is as true a type as can 
 be found in some respects almost a copy while 
 Flora may well be called an exception to most rules. 
 In " Thou Shalt not," Greyburn, Walter Campbell, 
 Jacob Mendall, Gabrielle I think every character 
 of importance is a type. The type of Madame 
 
 fvii]
 
 Vlll TO MY READERS. 
 
 O H 
 
 Biron in " Why I'm Single" has been used by Ibsen 
 in his play of " Ghosts " so closely as to suggest 
 plagiarism. 
 
 After much criticism on moral grounds, in past 
 days, it gives me pleasure to feel that this story can- 
 not injure the fabric of the most delicate mind. It 
 can safely be left in unlocked rooms where elderly 
 maiden ladies are accustomed to prowl. I hope you 
 will find it interesting, for it cost me some months 
 of labor and the valued services of a typewriter, 
 though it is written in a minor key that will not 
 disturb the sleepers in the rear pews. 
 
 Unless all signs fail there will be a round million 
 of novels credited to my account, before I make my 
 bow to you again in January. That means at least 
 five million readers. It should certainly inspire an 
 author to do his best when he has to reckon with 
 such a magnificent constituency. 
 
 ALBERT Ross. 
 
 Cambridge, Mass. 
 May, 1894.
 
 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PICTURESQUE AND POOR. 
 
 In the little room known to the employes of the 
 Montvale Optical Company as "the counting room," 
 two persons were sitting one cold March morning. 
 One of them was Rufus Hobbs, the book-keeper, 
 who was engaged in an apparently interminable 
 effort to add some columns of figures. The other 
 was Mr. (nobody would have thought of calling 
 Rufus "Mister") Roland Linnette, nephew and pre- 
 sumptive heir of Willard Linnette, owner not only 
 of the Optical Works, but of about everything else 
 in Montvale. 
 
 Mr. Roland was not engaged in adding figures. 
 Indeed, he had spent much more of his life in study- 
 ing the science of subtraction than that of addition. 
 He was a confirmed idler and a very comfortable 
 sort of fellow. At the moment when he is intro- 
 duced to the reader, he was gazing aimlessly into a 
 
 [91
 
 10 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 heap of coals which burned brightly in the grate 
 before him. 
 
 Both the book-keeper and his companion suddenly 
 became aware that there was a knock at the outer 
 door of the counting room. At least, they knew 
 that either this had happened, or that the wind, 
 which was very boisterous, had blown so severely 
 against the building as to convey the impression 
 that some one wished to enter. The book-keeper 
 looked inquiringly at Mr. Roland, who in return 
 looked inquiringly at the book-keeper. And the 
 upshot was that Rufus called " Come in !" in an ele- 
 vated tone of voice. 
 
 The door opened slowly and closed behind a young 
 man, or it might be more correct to say, lad, for he 
 did not look more than seventeen or eighteen years 
 of age. He was thinly dressed, notwithstanding the 
 extreme coldness of the day, and his features wore a 
 pinched look, such as is usually taken for a sign of 
 physical suffering. 
 
 " Have you any work that I could do, sir ?" inquired 
 the newcomer, directing his question to the book- 
 keeper, as Mr. Roland was partly concealed from 
 view by one of the large chairs in the room. 
 
 The book-keeper was plainly annoyed. He had 
 been interrupted at the very worst time. Before he 
 could find words, the intruder knew by the unpleas- 
 ant expression of his face what to expect. 
 
 " No, no !" replied Rufus, gruffly. " We've got 
 nothing for you. Come, be off !" 
 
 The last exclamation was caused by the hesitation 
 of the inquirer and his evident desire to prolong the
 
 PICTURESQUE AND POOR. 11 
 
 conversation. Mr. Roland, glancing obliquely from 
 his seat by the fire, saw the disappointed expression 
 one that was not far from indicating genuine pain. 
 He moved his chair slightly and surveyed the new- 
 comer with interest. 
 
 " Well, are you going ?" repeated Rufus, seeing 
 that the applicant still remained. "We have noth- 
 ing for you in any shape. The works are all full 
 and there is no prospect of a vacancy. Be sure and 
 shut the door, as you have already let in a good 
 deal of cold." 
 
 The attitude of the young fellow changed with 
 marvellous rapidity under the words and manner 
 with which he had been received. He raised his 
 head and threw at the book-keeper a glance of 
 defiance. 
 
 " I am poor, and I am cold, and I am hungry," he 
 said, in a firm voice, " but that is no reason why you 
 should speak to me like a dog. I asked you for 
 work, not for charity, and you might have replied in 
 decent language." 
 
 This conversation occupied but a few seconds, but 
 it gave Mr. Roland time to take a minute survey of 
 the boy. He saw at once that he had a fine face, 
 most intelligent eyes, and an air that does not usu- 
 ally accompany such poor garments as he wore. 
 He noticed also that the lad's hands, which were 
 entirely bare, were well shaped and very delicate. 
 Although the thermometer outside the window 
 registered far below the freezing point, he had no 
 overcoat. 
 
 The extreme paleness of his countenance was like
 
 12 LOVB AT SETBfTT. 
 
 that of one recently recovered from a severe illness, 
 and this environment gave his eyes an unusually 
 large appearance. The angry look which flashed 
 into them when he replied to the book-keeper's 
 brusque words caused them to light up in a way quite 
 attractive to any one but the object of their wrath. 
 
 " He is very picturesque !" muttered Mr. Roland, 
 beneath his breath. 
 
 Feeling the necessity of doing something to pre- 
 serve his dignity from the onslaught of the youth, 
 Ruf us Hobbs left his stool and figures and approached 
 him threateningly. 
 
 " Get out of here," he said, sharply, " or I'll put 
 you out ! I'll tcn^h you manners, beggar !" 
 
 For answer the young fellow, who was much 
 slenderer and shorter than his prospective assailant, 
 clenched his thin hands, but did not move an inch. 
 He evidently had no intention of being bullied 
 without a protest. His eyes, which had been dark 
 before, seemed to flash fire from out their depths. 
 His teeth, marvellously white and even, showed set 
 and determined beneath the pale lips. There could 
 be but one issue to a contest so unequal, but if Hobbs 
 imagined that he was to have his own way in the 
 scrimmage he had evidently made a miscalculation. 
 
 " How very picturesque he is !" murmured the 
 young gentleman by the fire again. Then, in a 
 louder voice, he addressed himself to the book- 
 keeper : " Let him alone, Rufus. I want to talk 
 to him." 
 
 The tone in which this was said was the most 
 ordinary one in the world, but there are two classes
 
 PIOTUBESQUE JLJfD POOB. 13 
 
 of beings who know and obey their masters without 
 hesitation. Rufus Hobbs was a member of one of 
 these classes ; and though Mr. Roland was in one 
 sense no master of his, he knew that the time might 
 come when he would be, and had a due regard for 
 the bread and butter question on that future day. 
 
 At this moment the piercing whistle of the works 
 blew, indicating the hour of noon. The book-keeper 
 recognized the welcome sound, and a sense of 
 pleasure at his approaching dinner overpowered every 
 other feeling. He took down a heavy overcoat from 
 an adjacent closet, turning up the ample collar 
 above his neck ; put on his fur gloves and hat, eye- 
 ing the scantily clad visitor with that contempt 
 which well-dressed people very properly have for 
 their inferiors in this regard ; and finally, stalking 
 by him as if he were some specimen of reptile, made 
 his exit from the building. 
 
 Not until the door had closed behind the form of 
 Rufus Hobbs did any change whatever come into 
 the pale face of the young fellow. But the next 
 moment he turned with quite a different expression 
 to Mr. Roland. 
 
 " Did I understand that you wished to see me ?" 
 he asked. 
 
 " Y-e-s," replied the other, slowly. 
 
 That was exactly what the young gentleman 
 wished to do with the boy to see him. He pleased 
 intensely his sense of sight. He would have enjoyed 
 nothing better than merely to look at him for the 
 rest of the afternoon. Having taken a very late
 
 14r LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 breakfast he was not troubled by those thrills which 
 made Rufus glad to hear the noon signal. 
 
 "Sit down," he added, presently. "It is surely 
 more comfortable here than out of doors." 
 
 As the lad feebly took a chair Roland whispered 
 to himself for the third time, " I think he is the most 
 picturesque boy I ever saw !" 
 
 The air of the counting room was undoubtedly 
 preferable to that of the street, but the youth had 
 something to think of beside his temporary comfort. 
 
 "You are very kind," said he, " but I cannot 
 remain long. I must find work to-day somewhere." 
 
 Roland looked at the slight figure. There was 
 much determination in its bearing, an appearance 
 entirely at variance with its slight bulk. He had 
 found Montvale very dull for the past month, and 
 this was the first thing that had in the least enter- 
 tained him. He wanted to retain the pleasurable 
 sensation. What a godsend a creature like this 
 would be in that desolate region ! 
 
 " Let me make a suggestion," he said, after a 
 slight pause. "I am obliged to stay in this village, 
 and I am simply dying of ennui. In saying this I 
 am making a confession to you with which I would 
 not honor anyone else for the world. You might 
 suppose, to look at me, that I was the most con- 
 tented chap on earth, but the fact is I am just the 
 opposite. Now, I live at the hotel and have no one 
 to talk to in the whole place, unless it be some 
 idiot like Hobbs, the book-keeper, with whom you 
 have just had a bit of experience. I want you to 
 come up to the house with me, and remain there
 
 PICTURESQUE AND POOB. 15 
 
 awhile as my guest. I will not insult you by offer- 
 ing a salary, for I want to treat you as one gentle- 
 man treats another. What do you say ?" 
 
 A notion that this well-dressed man was making 
 fun of him came into the lad's head, but he could 
 see nothing to endorse the idea in the straightfor- 
 ward glance that met his inquiring gaze. 
 
 " I cannot accept your offer," said he, " though I 
 thank you for it. It is absolutely necessary that I 
 lose no time in getting employment." 
 
 Roland was evidently disappointed. 
 
 " And so you prefer work to taking your ease ! 
 Excuse me for saying that such a choice is quite 
 incomprehensible. I cannot see why anybody should 
 want to work. I have always thought it one of the 
 dullest ways of passing one's time duller even than 
 sitting by this beastly grate and watching the gases 
 release themselves from that anthracite." 
 
 The lad stared at the speaker in great astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " I have no friends, no home, no money," he 
 replied, and his voice faltered. " What can I do but 
 work ?" 
 
 The young gentleman could not take his eyes 
 from the handsome fellow. It was an outrage that 
 such a picturesque specimen should be condemned 
 to a life of drudgery. 
 
 " What can you do ?" he echoed. "Why, I have 
 just told you. Have you never read that brilliant 
 saying of Theophile Gautier's ? He says ' The only 
 fitting occupation for a civilized man is to do 
 nothing.' "
 
 It LOVK AT BJEVMTt. 
 
 The lad shook his head in wonder. He heard, but 
 he did not understand. The idea that a person with 
 empty pockets could live without labor was a new 
 one to him. 
 
 "If you really insist on working, do not let me 
 detain you," added Roland, as his companion gave 
 no sign of intending to reply. " It is easy to see, 
 though, that you were never intended for a drudge. 
 You are not built with a great, rough frame, splay 
 feet and broad hands. You are handsome excuse 
 me and you have intelligence in your eyes. It is 
 ridiculous to think of you shovelling coal or pud- 
 dling iron, or even grinding lenses. And yet that is 
 what the foreman of these works would probably 
 have set you to do if there had been any place to 
 offer you." 
 
 Instead of replying in words, the scantily clad 
 figure rose, as if to take its leave. 
 
 " You haven't told me your name," said Roland, 
 cudgelling his brain to invent some means of keep- 
 ing his new companion a little longer. 
 
 " Guy Dalton," was the hesitating answer. 
 
 "You look as if you had been ill," remarked 
 Roland, kindly. 
 
 " I have." 
 
 " Then that is another reason why you should not 
 think of doing anything like manual labor for the 
 present. Don't be foolish. Come up to the hotel 
 and dine with me. After dinner we can talk it over." 
 
 This offer was declined with a motion of the head, 
 and another step was taken toward the doorway. 
 
 " You are the strangest mortal I ever met,"
 
 PICTURESQUE AND POOK. 17 
 
 smiled Roland, advancing and placing one of his 
 hands on the other's shoulder. " I will not oppose 
 you any longer, as it is evidently useless. Sit down 
 again and wait until one o'clock. I will say the 
 right word to the superintendent and he will employ 
 you here." 
 
 There was a moment of hesitation, and then the 
 lad responded that he would rather go elsewhere. 
 
 " There is no place here that book-keeper told 
 me so," he said. " I could not take a place from 
 which some one had to be discharged to make room 
 for me." 
 
 Roland looked much annoyed. 
 
 " I say, Master Guy, you won't be able to keep 
 that pace up," he expostulated. " Folks who persist 
 in working for their living cannot be so par- 
 ticular. That is one of the disagreeable things 
 about the business. You had better take this situa- 
 tion, or a lunch or some money or something. 
 It is very cold weather, as you may have noticed. 
 The next place you apply to will not be any more 
 likely to have a vacancy than this one. Before you 
 came this morning there were half-a-dozen in here 
 asking the same question." 
 
 " I can try," was the courageous answer. " Good- 
 by, sir." 
 
 The young gentleman could not think of anything 
 more to say. 
 
 "Good-by, then ; or rather au revoir, f or I am sure 
 it will not be for long. Take this card with my 
 address. When you are tired of walking about the
 
 18 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 country and wish to do a real kindness, you will 
 find my offer still open." 
 
 At this they parted, one to tramp through the 
 snowy roads to the next village, three miles away, 
 and the other to seek his cosy rooms at the Montvale 
 House. 
 
 " I suppose I am going to pity that young gander," 
 mused Roland, as he plodded along his brief road, 
 "and half spoil my dinner. "Pity him !" he contin- 
 ued, pausing at the thought which crossed his mind. 
 " Pity him ! Why, I would exchange positions 
 gladly at this moment yes, taking his poverty, 
 hunger and all. For has he not his youth his 
 golden, glorious youth still to spend that possession 
 worth more than all the rest of earth, and which 
 can never again be mine ! He has beauty ; more 
 than that, he has picturesqueness ; even in his 
 shabby clothes he looks fit to rule a dukedom. He 
 has courage, stoutness of heart, which I never had 
 and never shall have in like degree. Pity him!" 
 
 Looking up the speaker saw coming toward him 
 a young girl, pretty enough to have fixed his atten- 
 tion at any time, but doubly attractive in his present 
 state of mind. With the instinct of his training he 
 lifted his hat and stepped aside to allow her the 
 fullest room to pass. But when directly in front of 
 him she stopped. 
 
 " Is not this Mr. Linnette ?" 
 
 "Yes," he responded, wonderingly 
 
 "Your uncle is at the hotel and wishes to speak 
 with you." 
 
 Roland stared at the pretty face in great surprisd
 
 PICTURESQUE AND POOR. 19 
 
 " But why did he ask you to do such an errand ?" 
 he asked, almost indignantly. " Are there no servants 
 at the house?" 
 
 The girl blushed violently. 
 
 " I suppose they call me one of the servants," she 
 replied, casting down her eyes. 
 
 One of the servants ! Was it possible ! And he 
 had never seen her during the four weeks he had 
 lived at the hotel. He took a critical, though hasty 
 survey of her dress, and noticed for the first time 
 that it agreed with her description of her position. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said, preparing to accom- 
 pany her. "I thought I had seen all of Mr. Han- 
 son's people, and you gave me a complete surprise. 
 May I inquire in what capacity you are engaged ?" 
 
 The girl had heard considerable about the nephew 
 of Willard Linnette, but his voice and manner were 
 very different from what she had supposed. When 
 called to do this errand she had expected to meet an 
 ogre. 
 
 " I am assistant waitress and chambermaid," she 
 said, following him at what she meant to be a 
 respectful distance, instead of walking by his side, 
 as he seemed to wish her to do. " I think your 
 uncle is in haste, sir. I believe he has received a 
 message to leave on the next train." 
 
 Roland was so wrapped up in his reflections that 
 he totally ignored her last statement. 
 
 "You surely have not been long at the hotel ?" he 
 said, interrogatively. 
 
 " About two months."
 
 JO LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 He stopped short in the snow, in a miniature 
 rage. 
 
 " Where have they kept you ?" he cried, impetu- 
 ously. 
 
 A turn in the road hid them from sight. Forget- 
 ing everything, Roland caught both the hands of the 
 girl in his own. 
 
 "It is a shame !" he said, speaking rapidly. " It 
 is an outrage, when they compel me to spend week 
 after week in this dull town, to keep from my sight 
 the only interesting thing the village can boast. I 
 shall speak to Hanson I shall tell him my opinion 
 of his conduct I shall " 
 
 She struggled gently to free her hands, and her 
 breath came rapidly. 
 
 " Your uncle, sir ! You forget. He will think it 
 my fault. You have no time !" 
 
 He looked into the eyes which she raised to his, 
 and his pulses were on fire. 
 
 "Time !" he cried. " What is time, or eternity, to 
 me ? I shall leave you, but remember, this is not 
 the last time we shall see each other. Tell me one 
 thing only your name." 
 
 "Maud Arline," she whispered. 
 
 He waited still another moment. 
 
 " With such a face and such a name," he mur- 
 mured, " what cursed fate placed you in such a posi- 
 tion ? Maud," he added, " you won't forget me ?" 
 
 "No, sir ; but, please, will you not hasten ?" 
 
 Turning abruptly, he walked as fast as long 
 strides could carry him in the direction of the 
 Montvale House.
 
 A BIT Of HISTORY. 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A BIT OF HISTORY. 
 
 And now, with the reader's permission, the author 
 proposes to take him back a good many years and 
 to give him as much as is wise at this time of the 
 history of the Linnettes* family. 
 
 In the ordinary sense of the term this family had 
 its beginning with the uncle of young Mr. Roland, 
 who made his appearance in the last chapter. 
 
 Willard Linnette and his brother Payson were 
 common workmen up to the day when the former 
 made his great discovery, now so well known to 
 everybody interested in searching the heavens. His 
 fortune came to him, as it were, at one bound. 
 Within five years from the time he established his 
 small shop at Ashfield he purchased the entire site 
 of the coming village of Montvale, and began pre- 
 parations for the future manufactories, the busy 
 streets, and the elegant estate upon which he was to 
 rear his own palatial residence. 
 
 " I am going to be a very rich man," he said to 
 his architect when he first took him to Montvale, 
 a and I want all my preparations made on a large 
 scale. On this side, we must lay out the site for a 
 village. Over here will be the factories. Here we 
 shall have cottages for the workmen, and beyond 
 them a hotel. In this direction I have reserved fifty
 
 22 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 acres for a home. That is the best part of my pur- 
 chase, and as soon as I have the money to spare I in- 
 tend to build a large house upon it." 
 
 The architect smilingly inquired if a wife was 
 among the early probabilities. 
 
 " Who can tell ?" was the reply, delivered in a 
 serious manner, which did not convey much in- 
 formation. 
 
 In time the projected factories sent up their 
 smoke ; long rows of cottages housed the workmen, 
 which finally numbered more than six hundred ; the 
 hotel took its place in line, and the other appurten- 
 ances of a village appeared in all directions. 
 
 Some years later work was begun upon a resi- 
 dence in the reservation that Mr. Linnette had set 
 aside for himself, and the townspeople had enough 
 to talk about when they saw the remarkable extent 
 of the edifice. The house seemed large enough to 
 accommodate twenty or thirty people, though noth- 
 ing transpired which indicated any other occupant 
 than its owner and his servants. Mr. Linnette dis- 
 couraged those few persons who deemed themselves 
 sufficiently privileged to make hints in his presence 
 in relation to the matter, and it became not only a 
 nine days' but a nine years' wonder. 
 
 Besides the residence itself there were several 
 smaller buildings inside the grounds, evidently 
 intended for the use of assistants upon the place. 
 Extensive stables, carriage houses, ice houses, and 
 other appurtenances to the home of a man of large 
 property were also erected. Conservatories, grav- 
 eled drives, gardens, etc., followed.
 
 A BIT OF HISTORY. 23 
 
 Then, one day, without any apparent reason, all of 
 the work, none of which was in a finished state, was 
 instantly suspended. For a long period the build- 
 ings stood, to the wonder and astonishment of the 
 villagers, in the dead silence of their untouched 
 surroundings, the closed gates of the great estate 
 barred and locked against every one. 
 
 And then, as unexpectedly as the work had been 
 stopped, it began again. Out of the stillness the 
 sound of the chisel, the hammer, and the saw 
 sounded once more. A large company of mechan- 
 ics, brought from a distance, proceeded with des- 
 patch to complete the work on the original plan. 
 Everything that had been contemplated was finished, 
 down to the smallest detail. Large sums were also 
 expended on the furnishing of the house. 
 
 " What can it mean !" cried the people of thq 
 village. " Is the master about to marry ? Yes, that 
 must be it. He is preparing a home for his ne\| 
 wife !" 
 
 But the work went on and Willard Linnett^ 
 moved into the house ; and, with the exception otf 
 the ordinary servants necessary to such a place, and 
 the occasional visits of his brother Payson, no one 
 came to the grand mansion. 
 
 Payson was an entirely different man from his 
 brother. Willard had made a great effort to interest 
 him in his early discoveries, being more than will- 
 ing to share his success with him. It early became 
 evident, however, that Payson knew nothing what- 
 ever about business and disliked everything relat- 
 ing to it. In the days of their extreme poverty he
 
 24 LOVB AT SEVENTY. 
 
 had performed the labor necessary to sustain 
 with ill-concealed detestation, but upon being 
 released his mind ran rather to the poetic than to 
 the commonplace, and he proved completely useless 
 when transferred to the counting room of the new 
 concern. Much to his satisfaction, though to his 
 brother's great regret, he was soon retired on a 
 handsome income. He established his residence in 
 the city of New York, where he attached himself to 
 societies for the discovery and advancement of 
 various things, and also occasionally varied the 
 monotony of his life by publishing, at his own 
 expense, erudite works that found their way to the 
 upper shelves of libraries and remained there undis- 
 turbed. 
 
 The one thing that varied this programme was his 
 marriage to a lady who only lived long enough to 
 present him with a son. Undoubtedly he mourned 
 her loss, but after all he was better fitted to live a 
 single than a wedded life. 
 
 The owner of Montvale had no confidants. He 
 began housekeeping with the assistance of a Mrs. 
 Martin, a rather severe-featured woman of forty 
 years or so, who for A long time managed all the 
 internal economies of the place so as to suit him fairly 
 well and to please herself admirably. It was his 
 habit to rise at four o'clock in summer and five in 
 winter, and stroll over his grounds. He visited the 
 stables, criticising the care given to the animals there, 
 or inspected the kennels to make sure his dogs were 
 looking well. He also had many long talks with 
 a landscape gardener that he had imported to
 
 A BIT OF HISTORY. 25 
 
 give additional beauty to his naturally attractive 
 grounds. 
 
 In those days Willard Linnette Seemed at peace. 
 He loved to reflect that all these things had come to 
 him through his own discoveries ; that it was only a 
 few years since he had been a common workingman, 
 of whom nobody knew and for whom nobody cared. 
 It was a pleasure to walk through this estate, and 
 the works down there in the valley, and the streets 
 of the growing village, and know that he had created 
 them all. 
 
 And he was generous, too. He founded local 
 charities and endowed them liberally. He was looked 
 up to by every one, from the humblest laborer in 
 his employ to the clergymen who officiated at the 
 Montvale churches. The great astronomers of the 
 world wrote him autograph letters of congratula- 
 tion. He Was the subject of many newspaper and 
 magazine articles, and an honorary member of sev- 
 eral astronomical societies. What a change for the 
 man who, such a little while ago, had shovelled 
 cinders at Ashfield ! 
 
 It is from contrasts like this that much of the 
 comfort in this world is derived. No one so enjoys 
 the outer air as the convalescent who has been con- 
 fined for months to a room. No one knows the joy 
 there is in a drink of water like the traveller who has 
 well-nigh perished of thirst before reaching the 
 oasis. 
 
 But, had he completed that great house and those 
 extensive grounds for his own use alone ? Yes ; and 
 no. Perhaps he would have done the same, had he
 
 26 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 had no intention of sharing them with any other 
 person, merely for the pleasure of possessing such 
 an elegant establishment. Still, it was largely on 
 account of his brother's infant that he set up house- 
 keeping on such an immense scale. 
 
 After the death of Roland's mother, Willard Lin- 
 nette, on his occasional visits to Payson, found him 
 so engrossed in his books that he hardly seemed to 
 know there was a baby to bear his name. The child 
 was left entirely to the care of servants, and though 
 this may have been quite as well for its health at 
 that period of his life, it distressed the kind heart of 
 the uncle, who soon conceived for the half-orphaned 
 boy a very warm affection. Having no closer ties he 
 early formed a resolution to make this little fellow 
 his heir ; and the real father, who might not have 
 been able to recognize his child out of a dozen, on a 
 wager, was quite content so long as he was not to be 
 troubled in any way about him. 
 
 Mrs. Martin, who presided over the household 
 affairs of the elder brother, and ruled them, it must 
 be said, with a rod of iron, welcomed the young 
 stranger doubtfully. But she soon found that she 
 was to have very little to do with him. A suitable 
 retinue of special attendants was engaged, and 
 Roland was to all intents and purposes as much at 
 home as if he had been the real son of the owner of 
 Montvale. 
 
 This condition of things, if it did nothing else, 
 relieved the optician of one cause for worry. Since 
 his fortune had been accumulating so fast he had 
 speculated a great deal as to what ought to be done
 
 A BIT OF HI8TOBT. 27 
 
 with it, in the event of his death. He felt that it 
 would be useless to leave to his brother a larger 
 income than he now enjoyed, which he had reason 
 to know was much bigger than he Sound use for. 
 His lawyers had made various wills for him, havinp 1 
 reference mainly to the spiritual needs of sundry 
 natives of the Guinea coast and Kamschatka. He 
 now had them draw up another leaving the bulk of 
 his property to Roland, without restrictions. 
 
 The elder Dombey, in Dickens' delightful story, 
 never felt more certain that little Paul would become 
 a famous figure in his house than did Willard Lin- 
 nette that Roland would be his partner in the Mont- 
 vale Optical Works when he became of age. As 
 soon as the boy was old enough to understand, the 
 uncle liked nothing better than taking him through 
 the manufactories, and impressing upon him the 
 various processes required to make the telescopes 
 which brought him his fortune and reputation. He 
 fondly dreamed of a time when Roland would build 
 the name of Linnette still higher among astronomers. 
 
 It was well that he enjoyed these reflections while 
 he was able to do so, for as the lad grew older it 
 became apparent that he had none of those instincts 
 which the future owner of such an establishment 
 ought to possess. The boy liked a gun, and a horse, 
 and a story book, especially if the book dealt in 
 tales of travel and adventure ; but he turned wearily 
 from his arithmetic and physics, and could not con- 
 ceal how thoroughly he was bored when the con- 
 versation turned upon the newest comet or the dis-
 
 28 LOVK AT SEVENTY. 
 
 covery of a star of the seventeenth magnitude by 
 
 some searcher in Madagascar. 
 
 The uncle hid his disappointment as best he could, 
 saying to himself at first that the boy was young, 
 and that it was too soon to expect his mind to 
 develop in these directions. He sent him away to 
 school, impressing upon the principal the necessity 
 of paying particular attention to such studies as 
 would assist the lad in managing his future trusts. 
 
 Roland stayed through the time allotted him, but 
 his professors failed entirely to alter his natural 
 bent, in spite of their most vigorous efforts. They 
 were obliged to admit, when they had done all they 
 could, that while he was most proficient in history, 
 he made a very poor showing in algebra and 
 geometry. He had no difficulty in getting a hun- 
 dred per cent, in geography, and he was the best 
 pupil they had in modern languages ; but a logarithm 
 was entirely beyond his comprehension, and all 
 attempts to interest him in astronomy were dismal 
 failures. 
 
 When Willard Linnette found himself face to face 
 with these facts he did just the opposite to what 
 many men in his position would have done. He put 
 all his hopes aside, and began to realize that he had 
 no reason to expect any other result. The boy's 
 father was a dreamer and a poet, and his mother 
 had come of a race of clergymen. What was there 
 in this lineage to warrant an expectation that he 
 would have an adaptability to things scientific ? 
 Linnette loved his nephew, and as he could not 
 make him what he had wished, he resolved to let
 
 A BIT OF HISTORY. 29 
 
 him pursue his own way, with every advantage that 
 money could give. 
 
 When the young man came home from school the 
 uncle sat down and had a long talk with him. He 
 told him frankly that he had expected to teach him 
 his own business, but being convinced that it was 
 not to his liking he should say no more about it. 
 He then urged the lad to open his heart, and to say 
 for what profession he believed himself best fitted. 
 
 Roland, till then unspoiled as any youth imagin- 
 able, felt the blood rush to his brain at the tender- 
 ness thus exhibited. He had come to regard this 
 man as a father, much more than that other relation 
 to whom he \vas in the habit of paying a brief visit 
 about once a year. He expressed his regret that his 
 uncle should find him lacking in the qualities he 
 desired, but admitted that there was nothing attrac- 
 tive to him about a business or scientific career. As 
 to what he would eventually prefer for an occupation 
 he could hardly say as yet, but for the present he 
 would like to travel in some of the foreign countries 
 whose history interested him so much and whose 
 tongues he had acquired. 
 
 " I am quite pleased that this is your desire," said 
 Mr. Linnette, kindly. "There is nothing like travel 
 to develop the mind. I shall miss you very much, but 
 if you make good use of your opportunities I shall 
 be willing, for your sake, to endure the separation." 
 
 Roland replied, with real feeling, and asked how 
 soon he might start. 
 
 "Whenever you are ready/' was the answer
 
 30 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 "That is, if your father has no objections. Of 
 course he must be consulted." 
 
 " Certainly," said Roland, with constraint. " I 
 will write to him at once." 
 
 This fiction of consulting Mr. Payson Linnette 
 had been followed from the first, though both 
 Roland and his uncle understood perfectly that it 
 was a merely perfunctory affair. 
 
 "I shall not limit you in the matter of expense," 
 said Mr. Linnette, when the time of parting came. 
 "Make your journey as long or as short as it suits 
 you. I should be sorry to have you travel in any- 
 thing but the best manner, and I wish to leave you 
 the sole judge in everything. Only wherever you 
 go remember that you are a gentleman."
 
 "YOU DO NOT KNOW JULIB." 31 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " VOU DO NOT KNOW JULIE." 
 
 Thus it happened that, when he had barely reached 
 his nineteenth birthday, Roland Linnette found him- 
 self on English soil, with no commission except to do 
 as he liked, and with unlimited means to draw upon. 
 He was in good health and of a pleasing face and 
 figure. A young fellow to be envied, will say, I am 
 very sure, the majority of my readers. A young 
 fellow to be pitied will be the verdict of a minority, 
 and perhaps they^re the nearer right of the two. 
 
 Roland saw considerable of Europe much more, 
 in fact, than he described in the letters which he 
 wrote home. His uncle's life was too busy, and his 
 father's too poetic, to give them much apprehension 
 in relation to him. But it is as well established as 
 any fact in chemistry that most young men need 
 some object in life, some kind of useful employment, 
 to keep them out of mischief. Give them plenty of 
 money and abundant leisure, and in nine cases out 
 of ten they will find use for both in ways which the 
 judicious might not wholly approve. 
 
 Many young men would have been irretrievably 
 ruined by the course which young Linnette passed 
 through during his stay abroad, but there was one 
 thing which saved him from sinking below a certain 
 point. He retained, through everything, an inborn
 
 82 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 love for the beautiful. Though he had developed 
 no particular talent as an artist, he had an intense 
 appreciation of form and color, a love of beauty for 
 beauty's sake. 
 
 If idleness led him to degrade his ideals he never 
 wholly forgot them. 
 
 Like the statues of the old masters, which the 
 excavator finds buried deep in the clay of centuries, 
 the original loveliness was still there in the caverns 
 of his mind, and at the slightest appeal to his senses 
 it came newly-born to the surface. 
 
 Had he remained in England his morals might 
 easily have survived all the onslaughts made upon 
 them. As he strolled through the unfamiliar streets 
 of Liverpool, on the night following his arrival, he was 
 horrified by the women who accosted him, leering 
 with reddened eyes into his face, and breathing 
 brown stout and gin into his nostrils. The high- 
 ways seemed to be full of them. He could easily 
 believe it when he afterwards read in some book of 
 statistics that there were more of this, class in pro- 
 portion to the population in that great maritime city 
 than in any other spot in Christendom. He was 
 glad when he reached his. hotel, for he felt like one 
 who had passed through a territory infested with 
 poisonous and ugly reptiles. He wondered if any 
 man could be found so low as to accept the fearful 
 invitations with which his. ears had been dinned* 
 
 From Liverpool he went to Chester, and walked 
 upon the Roman walls ; then through the pastoral 
 country, rich in historic interest, lying between it 
 and London, stopping at Stratford-on-Avon, War-
 
 YOU DO NOT KNOW JULIE." 33 
 
 wick Castle, and other well-known resorts, where 
 almost as many Americans as Englishmen are en- 
 countered. In these places nothing meretricious 
 disturbed him. If there be women of easy virtue in 
 that region they are not foisted upon the notice of 
 unwilling travellers, as they are at the seaboard. 
 Then he reached London, where he found a condi- 
 tion of things second only to that of Liverpool, and 
 which shocks and astounds every man who comes 
 from this side of the ocean, and has occasion to walk 
 out after ten o'clock at night, in the metropolis of 
 the world. 
 
 Roland stayed in London a fortnight and would 
 have stayed longer but for the unbearable annoyance 
 of the crowd of women who seemed to think him 
 their natural and legitimate prey, and who pursued 
 him with a persistency equalled by nothing on earth, 
 unless it be the beggars at Naples or Cairo. He 
 anticipated great enjoyment in strolling at night 
 through the half-deserted streets, examining the 
 exteriors with which his reading made him familiar. 
 But everywhere, to his consternation, he found a 
 legion of scarlet women on his track. 
 
 He took lodgings in Russell Square, and if there 
 is a respectable square in London it is this one, and 
 found the streets leading from it infested with them. 
 He followed the advice of his guidebook and rode 
 into the suburbs on omnibuses, walking back so as 
 to inspect the various localities more at his leisure. 
 Wherever he went, they were before him. At 
 Piccadilly Circus they were more plenty than the 
 legitimate patrons of the conveyances which start
 
 34: LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 from there to every corner of London. They were 
 almost as numerous in the streets of South Ken- 
 sington as in Commercial Road, Whitechapel, or 
 Petticoat Lane. 
 
 One evening, when he had to walk at a late hour 
 through Oxford Street, it seemed to him that their 
 pickets were placed as regularly as those of an 
 army. They would accept neither his indignant 
 negatives nor his sullen silence. Sometimes they 
 followed him for blocks, recounting the advantages 
 of their propositions, making a price and then 
 lowering it like a Dutch auctioneer, and finally 
 dismissing him with a curse. 
 
 Long after, he learned the reason why none of 
 the members of the immense police force of London 
 make any interference with these people. One of 
 them happened to arrest a respectable lady, by mis- 
 take, several years ago, and naturally a great fuss was 
 made about it. In order to be perfectly sure not to 
 repeat this error, no similar arrests have been made 
 in London from that day to this. 
 
 Crossing the Channel at Dover, Roland stopped 
 at but one or two places of historic interest before 
 he reached Paris. Strolling with a new sense of 
 delight along the Grand Boulevards, upon the quays 
 and through the numerous parks, he found women 
 there, too ; not as plenty as they had been in Lon- 
 don, but numerous enough. And what an astound- 
 ing difference! Soft-voiced demoiselles, tastily clad 
 hot glances at him with their " bon jours" from 
 which it was not easy to turn away. When he 
 invited one of them as he did, why should I
 
 W TOU DO NOT KNOW JULIE." 35 
 
 falsify for him ? to sit at a little table in front of a 
 restaurant, she sipped light wine from a petit vtrrc 
 and replied to his interrogations in modest mono- 
 syllables that won his Anglo-Saxon heart and turned 
 his Anglo-Saxon brain. 
 
 As they sat there he mentally appraised the gar- 
 ments she wore, marvelling at the taste displayed in 
 making very ordinary materials so attractive. From 
 the bits of straw and lace which formed her hat to 
 the exquisite bottines which clad her dainty feet, 
 everything excited his admiration. He compared 
 her eloquent silence to the noisy chatter of women 
 of her class that he had seen elsewhere, and knew 
 that it would embarrass him even to say good- 
 night. 
 
 The American had no idea of completing this 
 acquaintance at the first interview, and began to 
 wonder how he should manage to continue it. He 
 began by inventing tales of an engagement for this 
 particular evening, and instantly realized from her 
 unmoved countenance that she did not believe a 
 word of his explanation. 
 
 " I shall have to leave you," he said, diffidently, 
 trying to stare his watch out of countenance. 
 " Could you could you come here to-morrow, at 
 six? I should like to have you take dinner with me. 
 But " he had read many French novels " I sup- 
 pose you have a lover " 
 
 " No," she replied, looking him in the eye in away 
 that made it impossible to doubt her. 
 
 " May I you won't be offended " 
 
 She bowed absently, in a way that made him feel
 
 36 LOVE AT 8KTENTT. 
 
 that she was conferring a favor rather than receiving 
 one. 
 
 He slipped two louis into her hand. 
 
 The next day was the longest one of his life. At 
 six she met him, as agreed, and they dined at one of 
 the great restaurants on the Boulevard des Italians. 
 When he asked her to show him where she lived, she 
 demurred, saying that her apartment was in an 
 unfashionable quarter and very plainly furnished. 
 When he had overcome her scruples, they took a 
 carriage and rode quite a long distance. Passing 
 through a courtyard they climbed many stairs to her 
 room at the top of the house. Roland looked out 
 of the window upon a wilderness of roofs, and bits 
 of the Seine, and little vistas of streets and parks in 
 the distance, and a stretch of railroad. 
 
 Plainly furnished it certainly was, but everything 
 was of the most scrupulous neatness. The counter- 
 pane of the bed was as white as snow. The window 
 curtains were tastily tied with bright ribbons. 
 From a bracket a pair of canaries hung in a brass 
 cage. And what riveted the stranger's attention 
 most was the fact that nearly every inch of the wall 
 was covered with pictures arranged with great care ; 
 pictures which had cost almost nothing, being made 
 up of supplements to the cheaper newspapers, but 
 which gave a cheerful air to the apartment, and 
 made him feel for the first time since he had left 
 America that he was in a real home. 
 
 Willard Linnette's money came freely and Julie 
 chared it with Roland. In the first flush of what he 
 imagined was his love for the girl, he promised her
 
 "YOU DO NOT KNOW JULIB." 17 
 
 something like eternal fidelity and she gave him 
 
 evidence of an intention to take him at his word. 
 But at the end of six months in Paris the American 
 began to think it high time to take his departure 
 for other parts of Europe. Letters from his uncle 
 contained mild hints that he was making too long 
 a stay in one city, and the approach of winter began 
 to remind him of Italy. 
 
 Now, mademoiselle was all very well in her own 
 sphere, but he could not see how he was going to 
 travel with her. He confided to one of his masculine 
 French acquaintances that he feared a scene when 
 he had to tell Julie he must leave. 
 
 His friend stared at him with unconcealed 
 wonder. 
 
 " You surely do not intend to tell her ?" he 
 exclaimed. 
 
 " How can I help it ?" 
 
 The Parisian smiled softly. 
 
 " When there is an easy way to do anything, and 
 a difficult way, why should you choose the hard 
 one ?" 
 
 " An easy way ?" repeated the American. 
 
 "To be sure. If you tell her you are going, she 
 may only have a crying spell ; but it is much more 
 likely she will tear your eyes out !" 
 
 It was now Roland's turn to smile. 
 
 "You do not know Julie," he said. "She never 
 shows the least symptom of temper.". 
 
 "Naturally," responded the other. "There has 
 been nothing to cause it. You have given her every- 
 thing she has wanted, and she believes herself settled
 
 38 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 for years in her present comfortable position. Tell 
 her to-morrow that you intend to give her the 
 go-by, and my word for it, you will have a different 
 entertainment. These girls are precisely like cats. 
 Stroke their fur the right way and you will never see 
 the steel that lies hidden beneath their velvet claws. 
 Stroke it just once the wrong way, and presto ! 
 out will fly the sharp briers and your skin will be 
 lacerated. Oh, you are not obliged to believe me ! 
 You can try it yourself if you prefer." 
 
 But Roland did not fancy trying it himself. 
 
 " How can I get away ?" he asked, helplessly. 
 
 " Easily enough. She goes every morning to her 
 mother's, does she not, to take her djeuner-a-la- 
 fourchette ? When she departs she inquires at what 
 hour you wish her to return. You respond that you 
 will expect her at six o'clock for dinner. That gives 
 you seven hours in which to leave the city. You 
 will pack your things, call a cab and skip to the 
 station, leaving a little note to say that a telegram 
 has been received informing you of the dangerous 
 illness of a kinsman in England." 
 
 "You mean America," interpolated Roland, more 
 for the sake of saying something than because he 
 considered the difference important. 
 
 "America or England, it is all the same. Julie 
 thinks them one country, I'll wager fifty francs. 
 These Parisian girls have no more idea of geography 
 than an oyster. They always divide the world into 
 two parts Paris and the rest and believe Paris by 
 far the larger. Leave her the note, saying that your 
 relation in England is dying, and that you were
 
 K YOU DO NOT KNOW JULJB." 39 
 
 summoned in such haste that you could not wait to 
 kiss her good-by. Put a nice little sum of money in 
 the envelope, to soften her regrets. Pay the con- 
 cierge three months in advance for her lodgings, and 
 there you are !" 
 
 The author of this ingenious plan spread open the 
 palms of his hands and shrugged his shoulders, after 
 the manner of his countrymen. 
 
 But Roland's face was very grave. 
 
 "It seems contemptible," he said. " Julie cares a 
 great deal for me." 
 
 " So she will for your successor," laughed the 
 Frenchman. " Bah !" 
 
 " She really is a very nice girl," mused Roland, 
 regretfully. 
 
 " I am sure you have found her so," replied the 
 Other. " And that is a strong reason why you should 
 take nothing away but pleasant memories. It is a 
 good rule never to look into a coffin." 
 
 In a dolorous voice Roland stammered that this 
 would be his last adventure of this kind. 
 
 " Cla va sans dire, 1 ' laughed the other. " Well, 
 which will you do, follow my suggestion or your own 
 fancy ? Because, if you are determined to say good- 
 by to her in person, I shall think it necessary to send 
 up a surgeon on the morning of your departure." 
 
 The affair of Julie, Roland Linnette used to think 
 in after years, when he looked back upon it, was 
 only a slight incident in his life. There soon came 
 a time when he regarded the delicate scruples he 
 exhibited as the most senseless things in the world. 
 But the sentiments of which he grew ashamed did
 
 40 LOVE AT SEVENTY". 
 
 him more credit than those which supplanted them. 
 Those feelings of compassion with which the French 
 girl inspired him marked a mile-post on the road he 
 was to travel, separating widely the two extremes of 
 his life. 
 
 The first place he went to after leaving Paris was 
 Switzerland, where he soon forgot his resolutions in 
 the smiles of a fair daughter of Geneva. He then 
 toured the principal cities of Italy, finding a new 
 divinity in each. He crossed to Africa and basked 
 consecutively in the sunlight of a Tunisian, an 
 Algerian and an Egyptian. After that he passed 
 through Asia. And everywhere he saw more of the 
 women of the land than of the topographical 
 beauties, or the handiwork of ancient or modern 
 men. 
 
 In Rome he visited the Colisseum, the Vatican, the 
 Forums and the great churches ; but when he 
 recalled that city the clearest thing in his memory 
 was a dark-eyed girl, who babbled to him in the soft 
 accents of her native tongue, as they wandered 
 about under the moonlight, one of his arms around 
 her slender waist. He admired the bay of Naples, 
 which he thought inferior only to that of Genoa, 
 explored the depths of Herculaneum, walked 
 through the ashen streets of Pompeii and climbed 
 the steep sides of Vesuvius ; but he remembered 
 better than any of these the oval beauty of a Neapol- 
 itaine, with whom he drove back to the city late at 
 night, eating grapes they had stolen from a vineyard. 
 He rode in gondolas over the watery streets of 
 Venice, the nearest like dreamland that any mortal
 
 "YOU DO NOT KNOW JULIB." 41 
 
 city could be ; but always in the foreground of his 
 vision, when he recalled the place, was the drooping 
 head of a young girl, sitting by his side in a boat on 
 the Grand Canal, her dark hair falling over a low 
 forehead, her white hand making ripples in the wave. 
 
 In Berlin and Stockholm he saw the tragedy of 
 Faust and Margherita re-enacted, a flaxen-locked 
 young woman, with braided hair and tinted bodice, 
 taking the now familiar role of the beguiled one. 
 Even in Japan and China, on the plains of Tartary 
 and in the City of Mosques he always found his 
 stay made more agreeable by some sweet creature 
 with the charm of femininity and the bloom of youth. 
 
 Years later, when asked the exact appearance of a 
 certain historical part of Jerusalem, he was forced to 
 admit his forgetfulness ; but he could have recognized 
 without question the photograph of a certain Zerlina 
 whom he knew there. And when, after belting the 
 globe, he landed from the Oriental steamer at San 
 Francisco, he confessed that his greatest anxiety 
 after years of absence was to know how well the 
 women of his own country compared with those of 
 foreign lands. 
 
 He would have been surprised, had anyone inti- 
 mated such a thought, that he had been faithless to 
 his uncle's advice when he left home, to be "a 
 gentleman" wherever he went. But then, "being a 
 gentleman " means many things to different people.
 
 42 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 CHAPTER IV, 
 
 THE HOUSEKEEPER'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 At the risk of leaving Master Guy Dalton stil! 
 wandering through the snowdrifts in the neighbor- 
 hood of Montvale, in search of employment, it is 
 necessary to relate at this time something more of 
 the experiences of the Linnette family. For some 
 time after the departure of Roland for Europe the 
 affairs of his uncle's household continued to be pre- 
 sided over by Mrs. Martin. She had become a 
 genuine fixture upon the place, and the idea that she 
 could leave it had never entered the head of its 
 proprietor. Her health began to fail, however, and 
 one day she announced that she was about to take 
 up her residence with a son who lived in Michigan. 
 
 Though not without her faults, Mrs. Martin was a 
 pattern of neatness and order. The architect who 
 drew the plans of the buildings had sent her on from 
 Philadelphia, apparently to match the rest of the 
 trimmings, which were grand, solemn and impres- 
 sive. When Mr. Linnette received news of her 
 intention to leave him he was in a state of conster- 
 nation and did his best to dissuade her. But the 
 housekeeper, having made up her mind, was not to 
 be turned from it, and when the next month ex- 
 pired she went her way. 
 
 Mr. Linnette had lived so long with everything 
 arranged for him by one set of careful hands that
 
 THE HOUSEKEEPER'S DAUGHTER. 43 
 
 ior the next few weeks he endured real torture. 
 The house was all at sixes and sevens. His meals 
 were execrably served. His bed was not made 
 right, though the same chambermaid attended to it 
 as formerly. He could not find anything he wanted. 
 Still he dreaded the advent of a new housekeeper 
 quite as much as the inconveniences he was endur- 
 ing ; and he had just reached a point where he 
 thought seriously of closing up the house and board- 
 ing at the hotel, when he was informed one evening 
 that a lady awaited him in his parlor. 
 
 It was the first time a lady had ever asked to see 
 him in his parlor that he could remember. The vil- 
 lage people were not of such a social grade as to 
 presume upon calling in that manner, and his clergy- 
 man's wife was about the only female person he 
 knew who would have felt justified, under any cir- 
 cumstances, in ringing his front door-bell. As he 
 sent his check quarterly to that lady's husband, and 
 limited his acquaintance with the ministerial family 
 to that extent, he did not suppose for an instant that 
 his present caller was the one in question. He there- 
 fore went down with some curiosity. 
 
 "I heard, sir, that you were in want of a house- 
 keeper." 
 
 It was a lady in mourning garments who spoke. 
 So that was all, eh ? He confessed to a feeling of 
 disappointment. It was a mere applicant for work. 
 
 " I am in need of a person in the capacity which 
 you mention," he replied, " but as I have said noth- 
 ing about it in this village, I am at a loss to under- 
 stand "
 
 44 LOYB AT SBVEHTT. 
 
 Mr. Linnette stopped short in his speech, and a 
 gleam of recognition came into his face. 
 
 " Why," he exclaimed, " it is Miss Moulton !" 
 
 "No, it is Mrs. Warren now," she answered, 
 quietly. " I do not wonder you did not recognize me. 
 It has been a long time since we met." 
 
 " And so you you have been married ?" he 
 responded, now speaking with complete cordiality, 
 " And, excuse me, you are a widow ?" 
 
 She bowed pensively. 
 
 "It has become necessary for me to earn mj 
 living, Mr. Linnette, and I think I could suit you. I 
 should certainly try very hard." 
 
 He looked at her in some doubt. 
 
 "I do not like changes," he said. "I want a 
 person who will be permanent. I want one who 
 will remain as long as I live. Now, you are young, 
 and the probability is, will marry again." 
 
 A shadow crossed the lady's features. 
 
 " Oh, no, I never shall, I assure you," she replied, 
 gently. 
 
 "And you have no attachments, no encum- 
 brances ?" 
 
 She hesitated a moment, fearful lest what she had 
 to say would prejudice him against her cause. 
 
 " Only a child a daughter. I know what you 
 will think, but she is not the least bit of trouble. 
 She is fifteen years of age, a very good girl, too. 
 Let me show you her picture." 
 
 Upon which she handed him the photograph of a 
 little sprite, with the sweetest expression, and with 
 hair hanging in a wavy mass about her shoulders.
 
 THE HOUSEKEEPER'S DAUGHTEB. 45 
 
 " My husband did not leave us much," continued 
 the mother, "but with economy we have kept along 
 until now. It is evident that I must soon get em- 
 ployment, and as I knew you " 
 
 The old man was holding the child's picture in 
 his hand and gazing abstractedly upon it. The 
 little one had pleaded her mother's cause success- 
 fully. His heart went out to her at once. 
 
 " When can you come ?" he asked. 
 
 The mother drew a deep breath of relief. 
 
 "Then I am really engaged! But you won't 
 refuse me leave to bring Eva, will you ? I want 
 very little wages. Of course," she added, doubt- 
 fully, " if you insist, I shall have to board her some- 
 where in the village." 
 
 He put the photograph on the table, as if he 
 accepted it as his own. 
 
 " Eva is that her name ? is part of the contract," 
 said he. " Where are you staying at present ?" 
 
 " We arrived at the hotel an hour ago." 
 
 "Then I suppose you can come in the morning ?" 
 
 Mrs. Warren smiled an affirmative. 
 
 "Your salary will be fifty dollars a month, the 
 same that I paid Mrs. Martin. I will send a carriage 
 for you at nine o'clock." 
 
 He rose and accompanied her to the door. 
 
 " Are you alone ?" he asked, seeing that no one 
 was in waiting. " I think I will walk back with 
 you. It is late." 
 
 This is how Eva and her mother for it was always 
 in this order that they appeared to him became 
 residents of the mansion of Willard Linnette.
 
 46 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 For some weeks after Roland's departure his 
 uncle had missed him acutely. Nothing but shame 
 kept him from writing to request his return. Even 
 when at school the boy had come home at least once 
 a fortnight, and nearly the whole of his vacations 
 had been passed there. At no time was he so far 
 away that a few hours' ride would not have sufficed 
 to reach him in an emergency. Now, with thou- 
 sands of miles of land and water between them, a 
 feeling of intense loneliness would often oppress 
 the foster-father. But for the coming of the War- 
 rens he surely would never have consented to the 
 long tour that his nephew made. 
 
 Little Eva galloped into the affections of the old 
 man with as much facility as she galloped about the 
 roads in the neighborhood on a pony that he very 
 soon bought for her. She even filled a vacancy 
 in his heart which the boy had never quite suc- 
 ceeded in doing. He found the greatest delight in 
 her society, and thought nothing finer than to take 
 her little hand in his and stroll through the grounds, 
 or down to the village, or over to the works. 
 
 Gossip, that plant which flourishes in all seasons 
 and at all times, took up the subject, and many 
 were the observations and surmises regarding the 
 strange fancy of the taciturn man for the child of 
 his housekeeper. As he never heard any of these 
 things, however, they did not trouble him. His 
 servants repelled with indignation the insinuations 
 which came to their ears, declaring that the master's 
 life raised him above criticism. Having nothing to 
 feed on, the rumors soon subsided.
 
 THE HOUSEKEEPER'S DAUGHTER. 47 
 
 Mr. Linnette met his nephew at New York and 
 welcomed him cordially, though with rather less 
 effusiveness than the latter expected. When they 
 spoke of Montvale, Mr. Linnette, Sr., suggested 
 guardedly that the young man would probably find 
 much better accommodations at the hotel than at 
 the family mansion. 
 
 " I live like a sort of hermit," he explained, " tak- 
 ing my meals at random, and I'm afraid it would be 
 dull for you. When you get ready to come up I will 
 arrange with Mr. Hanson to give you the best rooms 
 he has, and I can meet you every day, at the count- 
 ing room." 
 
 So far from being disagreeable to Roland, this 
 plan entirely met his views. He felt that it would 
 be necessary to pass considerable time at Montvale, 
 for the looks of the thing, and he regarded the whole 
 affair as a species of penance from which there was 
 no feasible means of escape. He had grown a great 
 deal older in the past three years. He dreaded the 
 sepulchral air of his uncle's house, and chafed at 
 the prospect of bed at nine and breakfast at six, 
 which he recalled as the rule of former days. Life 
 at the hotel, though it must be dreary enough, would 
 not involve these restrictions. He could come and 
 go when he pleased, with no one to interfere. He 
 felt certain that Mr. Hanson would not spend much 
 time in attending to things which were none of his 
 business. 
 
 He accordingly responded, to his uncle's evident 
 satisfaction, that he would be content with any 
 arrangements that were made for him.
 
 48 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 "You have your letter of credit on Baring's still, 
 of course," remarked the elder gentleman. 
 
 " Oh, yes." 
 
 " I believe it is not limited in amount ?" 
 
 " No, sir. I hope I have not drawn more than 
 you thought proper." 
 
 " By no means," was the reply. " I left it alto- 
 gether with Rufus. I wanted you to have enough. 
 How long do you mean to stay in Montvale ?" 
 
 Roland was surprised at the question, and wished 
 he knew how best to answer it. He stole a sidelong 
 glance at his uncle, in hopes to find some guide in 
 his expression, but that gentleman was looking 
 vacantly at the carpet. 
 
 " I do not know, exactly," he replied, at last. 
 " Have you any suggestions ?" he asked, desperately. 
 
 "N-o,"said Mr. Linnette. And here the conver- 
 sation changed to other subjects and the matter was 
 not taken up again. 
 
 Willard Linnette had never mentioned, in any of 
 his letters to Roland, that he had changed house- 
 keepers. The )oung man knew nothing of the child 
 who had gone so far toward taking his place in his 
 uncle's house and heart. He must know it at some 
 time, but the one most interested wanted to postpone 
 the day as late as possible. 
 
 Why should not everything have been revealed at 
 once ? What reason was there for this secrecy, so 
 foreign to everything else in the old man's character ? 
 
 Roland was now an experienced man. Eva was 
 seventeen ; quite a woman. Perhaps that had some- 
 thing to do with it.
 
 MISS OIDDIXG8 IS SHOCKED. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MISS GIDDINGS IS SHOCKED. 
 
 Roland's recollections of the character of Mr. 
 Hanson, who "ran" the hotel at Montvale were 
 entirely correct. The house over which he presided, 
 like almost everything else in Montvale, was owned 
 by Willard Linnette. As Roland was the favor- 
 ite relation and probable heir of his uncle, Hanson 
 was glad to see him, and had no idea of letting any- 
 thing interfere with his contentment. The day 
 before his arrival the landlord spoke to each of the 
 employes in turn, bidding them make every effort to 
 please the young gentleman who was to come. 
 
 " He has travelled a great deal," he said, oracu- 
 larly, " and may appear unreasonable in some things ; 
 but there is to be just one rule for him. Whatever 
 he asks for he must have." 
 
 To this Mr. Hanson added a mild hint that it 
 would be very disastrous for any particular servant 
 with whom Mr. Roland came in collision ; and an 
 air of trepidation, not to say awe, permeated the 
 entire household as the critical day drew near. 
 
 The number of domestics was naturally small, as 
 the establishment seldom had a dozen transient guests 
 at one time. There was a female cook, who never 
 came into any portion of the house where the guests 
 would be likely to encounter her, but who played a
 
 50 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 most important part, for all that, in the economy of 
 the concern. There was a middle-aged woman who 
 officiated in the double capacity of chief chamber- 
 maid and head table waitress ; a scullery maid ; a 
 boy who did odd jobs ; and one or two men whose 
 duties were mainly at the stable. 
 
 To this retinue had recently been added the 
 pretty girl whom Roland met on his way from 
 the counting room, on the morning when he first 
 saw young Dalton. She was under general instruc- 
 tions to be ready for any emergency, and, never 
 having had the least experience in a hotel, was con- 
 siderably exercised over the prospect. The chief 
 chambermaid and head waitress, whose name was 
 Giddings, partly quieted the fears of this young 
 damsel in relation to Mr. Roland, by saying that she 
 (the Giddings) would answer all of his bells in per- 
 son, and that it was doubtful if she (the pretty girl) 
 would even so much as get a glimpse of him. 
 
 Roland made up his mind, as he was to be forced 
 to remain for some time in Montvale, that he would 
 get all the fun possible out of his residence at the 
 hotel. Before he had been in the house an hour he 
 had the cordial ill-will of every person with whom 
 he came in contact, except the landlord, who could 
 not afford to harbor such a feeling against a guest 
 of his description. 
 
 Nothing done in anticipation of his arrival suited 
 him in the least. 
 
 "These are your rooms, sir," said the smiling 
 Miss Giddings, when she had piloted him up the 
 stairs.
 
 MISS GIDDINGS 13 SHOCKED. 51 
 
 I say the " smiling " Miss Giddings, but it was 
 the last smile that fair creature wore for many days. 
 
 " Rooms !" echoed the heir of Montvale. " Rooms! 
 These are not rooms! they are ovens! No human 
 being could exist for five minutes in this atmos- 
 phere. Throw open those windows, every one of 
 them or knock them out, or something !" 
 
 " We thought " began the chambermaid. 
 
 "That I was a salamander? Very likely; but I 
 am not ! Unhappily I have lungs, which are set in 
 motion by supplies of oxygen." He walked to the 
 window as soon as it was opened, and took in a deep 
 breath of the frosty air. " What in Heaven's name 
 are these things ?" he continued, in allusion to the 
 lace curtains that had been arranged with great care 
 across the upper panes. " Pull them down quick ! 
 I want to look out without sitting on a stool." 
 Then he glanced around the walls, and uttered an 
 exclamation of horror. "What are those dreadful 
 things in frames ! Not pictures ! Don't tell me 
 that ! Whatever they are, have them removed im- 
 mediately. I would not sleep in the same room 
 with them for a fortune !" 
 
 Miss Giddings, much agitated by this avalanche, 
 gladly seized the opportunity to escape to the lower 
 floor and inform the landlord of the strange requests 
 which his new guest had made. Mr. Hanson 
 promptly called William and Patsey, two of his male 
 retainers, and ordered them to go to Roland's room 
 and execute as rapidly as possible every order that 
 he gave. 
 
 " Her* ! Take these off first/ called Roland to the
 
 52 LOVE AT SErENTT. 
 
 advance guard, as the reinforced detachment ap- 
 peared in sight. He tossed toward them several bed 
 coverings known in the vernacular as " comfort- 
 ables." " What under the blessed sun do you call 
 those ? They would asphyxiate a man in about 
 thirty seconds." 
 
 Miss Giddings thought it time to make a stand. 
 
 " Why, sir, they are the very best we have in the 
 house. They were bought on purpose for your 
 room." 
 
 " They might do for mats," retorted Mr. Roland, 
 "but they are totally unfit for any other purpose. 
 Have you no woolen blankets ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, but " 
 
 " Then get them. Lug out that trash !" he added, 
 to the man, alluding to the pictures. " And what is 
 this ? A. stove, as I'm alive ! A stove, with a red hot 
 fire in it, and an unused fire-place ! Drop those 
 chromos and take this stove out first. No wonder I 
 was suffocating !" 
 
 William, the hostler, who had taken up several 
 articles in succession and let them fall again, started 
 for the stove, as if with the intention of removing it 
 forthwith. But Miss Giddings sprang toward him 
 with a scream, declaring that the fire must be extin- 
 guished. 
 
 " Go down and get some kindlings, Patsey," she 
 said to the boy, "and start a blaze in the fireplace. 
 We shall have to wait till the stove is cooler, before 
 removing it," she remarked to Roland, in a shaking 
 voice.
 
 MI8S GIDDINGS 18 SHOCKED. 53 
 
 fhe traveller felt a keen delight in the commotion 
 ne was causing. 
 
 "There is kindling enough here," he said, pointing 
 to the pictures that lay in a heap on the floor. 
 "Those frames would burn, I should think." 
 
 The woman felt compelled to enter a feeble pro- 
 test to this proposition. 
 
 " Patsey will be here soon with plenty of better 
 stuff," she ventured. 
 
 " But they must be burned some time /" replied 
 Roland. 
 
 " The last gentleman who had these rooms," re- 
 torted Miss Giddings, rallying under the impression 
 that the entire house was being assailed, " never said 
 a word against them. He was a sick man, too, and 
 had to lie here all day, with nothing else to look at." 
 
 Roland stared at her with counterfeited alarm. 
 
 "Where am I?" he demanded. "Is this a hos- 
 pital ? I thought it was a hotel. He was sick, was 
 he ? He died, I'll bet a guinea. And he lay there 
 in that bed day after day looking at those pic- 
 tures ! And they called doctors, and prescribed for 
 him, no one suspecting the dreadful cause that was 
 gradually sapping the foundations of his existence !" 
 His voice began to tremble. " Did he have this 
 stove, too ?" 
 
 The woman's teeth chattered. 
 
 *' Yes, sir in the fall. We put it up when it 
 began to grow cold." 
 
 Roland turned away and buried his face in his 
 handkerchief.
 
 54 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 " Poor fellow ! Poor fellow !" he murmureu, 
 wiping his eyes. 
 
 Patsey came up with the kindling. The fire in the 
 stove was subdued sufficiently to admit of the re- 
 moval of that obnoxious piece of furniture. Blank- 
 ets were substituted for the heavy " comfortables." 
 The lambrequins that had been carefully arranged 
 to hide the magnificent view were taken down. And 
 then Miss Giddings ventured to inquire humbly if 
 that was all he wanted. 
 
 "All!" echoed Roland, looking at the woman as 
 if about to break into another rage. It seemed as if 
 he could never reply to one of her questions without 
 repeating something she had said. " No, it is not 
 all! f It is not half 7 Doesn't it occur to you that a 
 man who had his dinner two hundred miles from 
 here may want something in the way of food ?" 
 
 " I meant all in the room," faltered the chamber- 
 maid, her heart ready to burst. She had never 
 imagined that anyone would address her in this 
 manner before William and Patsey, who had hitherto 
 regarded her as a person of superior position. 
 
 " Then you should have said so. What have you 
 in the house that is fit for a Christian to eat ?" 
 
 " Anything you like to order, sir." 
 
 "But I shall not 'order, sir !' I am not going to 
 spend my time attending to your business. You can 
 bring me what you think best. Only," he paused 
 and looked more darkly than ever at his attendant, 
 "if it should happen to be a beefsteak, and it 
 was cooked more than one minute on each side, on 
 a broiler, over coals, I would not touch it ! If it
 
 HISS GIDDING8 IS SHOCKED. 55 
 
 was fried in a spider, as I have known your country- 
 men to cook it, I would sue the landlord of this 
 house for assault and battery, and I would get judg- 
 ment, too ! If there is coffee and I don't say there 
 will be it must come up here half cream, and very 
 hot, or it will go down again ! If there are fried 
 potatoes, they will have to be brown, but not burned, 
 mind you ! And if anyone should offer me/*V not 
 merely to-night, but at any time during my stay 
 there would be blood spilled ! You may go." 
 
 Miss Giddings delivered this message, shorn of its 
 verbiage, to the cook, and then went to the rear 
 door of the kitchen for air. She was actually dizzy 
 from the shock to her feelings at her strange recep- 
 tion. As soon as she was out of the room young 
 Linnette threw himself into one of the easy chairs, 
 the only articles of furniture present of which he 
 fully approved, and laughed consumedly. 
 
 "Idiots!" he muttered. " Talk about your cool- 
 ies, your Bengalese ! It takes a free-born American 
 to bow before the power of gold. As long as I 
 have plenty of money to salve over the wounds to 
 their sentiments I can wipe my feet on any of them. 
 There is not a femme de chambre in Europe who 
 would endure half the insolence I gave that woman. 
 I shall be ashamed of my country, if Hanson does 
 not come up here and toss me out of the window." 
 
 The cook, who had heard all that William and 
 Patsey could tell her of what had passed upstairs, 
 was in a nervous state lest the viands she was pre- 
 paring should be returned as unsatisfactory ; but 
 Roland had exhausted, for the moment, his love of
 
 56 LOTS AT 
 
 fun, and ate his supper, which was really very good, 
 without comment. When it was finished he walked 
 the piazza, to watch the stars which shone brightly 
 over the still mountain and valley, and in the pleas- 
 ure of the contemplation forgot his loneliness foi 
 the time. 
 
 His uncle was away on business when he arrived 
 at Montvale, but returned within a day or two and 
 came promptly to the hotel. Roland noticed, as he 
 had in the interview at New York, that there was 
 something for which he could not account in the 
 manner of this relation. He felt that he had in 
 some unknown way displeased him, and expected, 
 every time Mr. Linnette opened his mouth, to learn 
 the cause of his changed attitude. He feared that 
 he had delayed too long to suit his uncle's ideas in 
 deciding what to adopt as a profession ; but he had 
 become so used to doing nothing that he did not 
 like the thought of giving it up. 
 
 Though the conversation lasted for more than an 
 hour, however, it bore no reference to this subject. 
 It ran backward and forward at random among 
 things native and foreign, and not a word was spoken 
 conveying the least hint that anything disagreeable 
 was in mind. 
 
 Roland could not help wondering whether he had 
 alarmed himself unnecessarily. Could it be that his 
 busy uncle was willing he should lead a life of entire 
 idleness ? 
 
 "I hope they make things agreeable for you here,'' 
 said Mr. Linnette, after one of his long pauses. 
 
 " Quite so," responded Roland. " Having lired
 
 MISS GIDDINOS IS SHOCKED. 57 
 
 In countries where the manners are so entirely dif- 
 ferent, things seem a little odd at first, but Hanson 
 is doing the best he can." 
 
 The elder man seemed relieved at the answer. 
 
 " I live so plainly myself," said he, " that I fear 
 you would not be comfortable at my house. How- 
 ever, some day before you go, if you would like to 
 come for a dinner, I I could arrange it. That is, 
 of course, with time for preparation." 
 
 Roland laughed lightly. 
 
 " That sounds awfully formal," said he. " I would 
 be glad to take pot-luck with you, but the hotel is 
 just as well. When you get a chance you might 
 come in and dine with me, and save all the 
 trouble." 
 
 " I will do that, then," responded the other, draw- 
 ing a long breath. " On the whole, it would be 
 better. Yes," he added, musingly, " it would be 
 much better." 
 
 Although Mr. Linnette had dined twice with his 
 nephew after this, he had said nothing in relation to 
 the dreaded subject up to the time when he sent the 
 pretty waitress to call him, as detailed in the first 
 chapter of this story.
 
 58 LOTS AT SEVENTY. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "I'M SURE I CAN TRUST YOU." 
 
 Mr. Linnette had nothing of special moment to 
 communicate to his nephew beyond the message 
 presaged in the words of Miss Arline. A matter 
 connected with his business had suddenly occurred 
 which made it necessary for him to take a journey 
 that might occupy a fortnight or more. He only 
 wished to say good-by to Roland and to inquire 
 whether he would probably find him at Montvale on 
 his return. 
 
 Had this question been asked an hour sooner at 
 any time, in fact, before he met the charming girl 
 the young man would have answered without hesi- 
 tation that he would spend the time of his uncle's 
 absence by taking a trip to New York. He cordially 
 disliked Montvale, and remained merely from 
 motives of policy. Nothing but his interest in the 
 face he had just seen would have kept him there 
 over night. But, to such a man, this reason was 
 amply sufficient. He had no idea of leaving a vil- 
 lage containing such a worthy object of attention, 
 and he told Mr. Linnette he thought he would stay 
 where he was for the present. 
 
 " You arc still satisfied with the hotel ?" asked the 
 uncle.
 
 "I'M flUBE I CAN TRUST YOU." 5d 
 
 "Quite," replied Roland, with the pretty girl in 
 his mind. 
 
 " There would be nothing for you to do at the 
 house," continued Mr. Linnette, reflectively. *' It is 
 a dull place. I have locked up most of the rooms 
 and taken the keys." He exhibited a bunch as he 
 spoke. Then he noticed Mr. Hanson crossing the 
 yard, and tapped on the window, signalling him to 
 enter. " Do your best to entertain my nephew," he 
 said to the landlord, when he appeared. " He has 
 travelled in lands where every comfort is given to 
 the stranger, almost as a matter of religion. He 
 must not find his native country less hospitable." 
 
 Hanson responded that he hoped he had already 
 done what was required of him, to which Roland 
 answered that he had no fault to find. Mr. Linnette 
 then shook his nephew's hand cordially not as 
 warmly as he had done when the boy started on his 
 foreign journey, but still kindly enough. And get- 
 ting into the sleigh which his man had in waiting he 
 was driven towards the railway station. 
 
 No sooner was the vehicle out of sight than 
 Roland turned upon Mr. Hanson with a savage air. 
 
 " May Allah forgive me the lie 1 told to that good 
 man !" he cried. " I would not for the world let 
 him know the outrageous way that you have treated 
 me. You know what I mean, you rascal ! Why 
 have you allowed me to be slowly tortured to death 
 by that Giddings, when you had all the time under 
 your roof the charmingest girl in the country, 
 carefully kept out of my sight and hearing?" 
 
 The landlord began to expostulate.
 
 60 10VE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 "I did not know" 
 
 " Don't prevaricate ! You can't do it well 
 enough." 
 
 " But, really, Mr. Roland," stammered Hanson, 
 "I am quite innocent of any wrong intention. Miss 
 Giddings is experienced in waiting upon people, 
 while the other has never before worked in a hotel. 
 I certainly meant to give you the best one." 
 
 The young gentleman gazed at his companion 
 with a comic look of contempt. 
 
 " The best one !" he repeated, as was his wont. 
 " Experienced ! I should say so ! She must have 
 had half a century, at least. Don't let her answer 
 my bell again, if you want me to stay another day 
 under your roof. Either expect me to take the 
 evening train, or give orders that no one but Miss 
 Maud is to respond to calls from Nos. 9 and 10." 
 
 The landlord replied that he would certainly do 
 so, if that was the wish of his guest. 
 
 " Miss Arline is a nice girl, I have no doubt," he 
 added. " Her parents died some years ago, and 
 Maud was left to the care of a guardian, who seems 
 to have turned her out as soon as her money was 
 gone. I agreed to let her board here this winter, 
 though I really did not need her, and " 
 
 But his guest had left him abruptly. Roland lost 
 all patience at the story. He went to his rooms and 
 for the next hour mused upon the fate that had 
 thrown such a lovely creature upon the awfully cold 
 mercies of the world. 
 
 His breakfast was invariably brought to his cham- 
 ber. The other meals he usually took in the public
 
 "fM SURE I CAN TRUST TOUT* 61 
 
 dining-room. To-day he decided to have his dinner 
 brought up, and rang the bell for that purpose. As 
 he stood with his hand on the rope visions of the 
 sweet face which would respond to his "Come in," 
 filled his mind. He heard in imagination the little 
 feet of his divinity ascending the stairs, and the 
 dulcet voice inquiring, " What did you wish, sir ?" 
 But the knock revealed quite a different order of 
 person ; none other, in fact, than Miss Sarah Gid- 
 dings. 
 
 Roland's surprise and disappointment were suffic- 
 ient to cause him to utter a vigorous exclamation, 
 not indicative of the utmost serenity of mind. 
 
 "Who sent (or you ?" he cried, somewhat testilv 
 
 "I thought you rang, sir." 
 
 " Did you ? Well, for once you were right. I 
 did ring. I rang for Miss Arline. And remember, 
 hereafter, whenever I ring, it is for the same per- 
 son, and never, under any circumstances, for you /" 
 
 Miss Giddings did not intend to abandon the 
 field so easily. 
 
 " She is busy just now, sir, in another part of the 
 house. Won't I do just as well ?" 
 
 The young man turned from the window, to 
 which he had gone, and surveyed the questioner dis- 
 criminatingly. 
 
 "Won't you do just as^-well ?" he repeated. 
 " I should say not ! Let me ask you candidly if you 
 call that a sensible inquiry?" 
 
 The woman evinced signs of a lachrymose dispo- 
 sition.
 
 62 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 " I'm sure I don't see what you've got against me, 
 sir. I've tried in every way to suit you." 
 
 " Well, don't try any more," he answered, sharply. 
 Then, as she showed no intention of leaving, he 
 added, "The doctor has positively forbidden me to 
 get excited, and you must not irritate me. It can't 
 possibly do you any good to sweep my room and 
 make my bed. I shall give you the same amount 
 in fact, much more if you will kindly keep away. 
 Here," he handed her a bank bill as he spoke, " is 
 something on account. I will send you the same 
 sum each week if you will never present yourself 
 before my vision." 
 
 Miss Giddings took the money, but it did not make 
 her happy. She still lingered. 
 
 " Will you find Miss Arline and request her to 
 come here," demanded Roland, " or will you not ? I 
 had an appetite and it is disappearing. Shall I have 
 to go down and see the proprietor ?" 
 
 " I will go at once," replied the woman, sniffing 
 " Only if she does not suit you she is so inexperi' 
 enced you can let me know." 
 
 He opened the door and held it in the attitude of 
 one who wishes to facilitate the departure of his guest. 
 
 " Yes, I can" he repeated. " But that is quite 
 different from saying that I shall. Now, good- 
 morning, Miss Giddings. Perhaps I ought to say 
 ' good-by,' as we may never meet again. If you 
 consult my wishes and your own interest it will 
 be a permanent farewell. Miss Arline, if you please, 
 without unnecessary delay." 
 
 He had time to throw himself into a chair and
 
 " I'M 8UEE I CAN TJBUST YOU." 63 
 
 laugh heartily at what he considered his excellent 
 joke before a second knock sounded. 
 
 " Come in !" he called, somewhat roughly. 
 
 He did not intend to make love to Maud and 
 frighten her again that day. He had gone farther 
 in that direction when they met in the road than he 
 thought wise, on mature reflection. 
 
 He inquired what there was for dinner and gave 
 his order, without raising his eyes from a newspaper 
 which he had hastily caught up. 
 
 " You may spread the table here, if you please," 
 he added, as he heard her leaving the chamber. 
 
 Roland lay back in his chair by the window, and 
 placed his feet cosily on an ottoman. He was con- 
 tent to inhale the fragrance of the air her presence 
 had perfumed. His appetite had vanished. Except 
 as an excuse to bring her to him he would have 
 eaten nothing. He gave himself up to dreaming. 
 
 Presently the girl returned with a table-cloth, 
 napkins and dishes. She rapped again at the door, 
 and he responded that she might enter, but still he 
 did not turn his eyes toward her. She set the tray 
 on the table and drew that article of furniture into 
 the centre of the apartment. Then she hesitated a 
 moment, undecided what to do next. She was, in 
 truth, wholly unused to making preparations of this 
 kind without assistance, and not a little confused at 
 being alone with a young gentleman of the disposi- 
 tion which she had found in this one. 
 
 She shot a mute glance of appeal for information 
 in his direction, but he was silent as a stone, appar- 
 ently wholly engrossed with his newspaper. It was
 
 64: LOTE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 clear that she must remove the tray from the table 
 before she could lay the cloth, and there was no 
 stand in the room upon which she could place it. 
 Recollecting at last that such an article was sure to 
 be found in the bedroom adjoining, she went thither 
 to get it, deeming this preferable to asking any 
 questions of the sphinx into which Mr. Roland had 
 suddenly changed. 
 
 Maud brought out the stand, first removing from 
 it various articles of gentlemen's attire, which she 
 put, for want of a better place, upon the bed. Then 
 she carried the tray to it and proceeded to set the 
 table. 
 
 Although the young man did not look up once he 
 felt every thrill of nervousness which his waitress 
 experienced. His highly sensitive organization re- 
 sponded to hers, like the strings of a harp to the 
 touch of a performer. When she left the room to go 
 for the viands he inspected her preparations. A 
 smile stole over his countenance as he saw that the 
 cloth was uneven, the dishes laid irregularly and the 
 table quite out of the place where the careful Miss 
 Giddings had always put it. Fastidious to a degree, 
 he had insisted upon the utmost particularity in 
 these things, and had given his former attendant 
 many a pang by the sarcastic remarks with which he 
 punctuated hi? directions. 
 
 Now all was quite different ; but had the meal 
 been spread on the carpet he would hardly have 
 cared. The food and the manner in which it was 
 served were secondary considerations. It was the 
 nymph who brought it that absorbed his attention.
 
 a l'M 8UB1 I CAN TBTJiT YOU.'* 65 
 
 Miss Arline and the dinner soon made their appear- 
 ance. When all was ready and the girl mustered 
 courage to inform him of that fact he rose slowly 
 and took his seat at the table. He was obliged to 
 make a feint of eating, because she was watching 
 him. After sipping his soup he drew the cork of a 
 bottle of claret and filled a glass absently. But his 
 appetite for food would not come, and presently he 
 pushed the dishes away. 
 
 " You may take them," he said. " I am not 
 hungry." 
 
 " Is there anything else that I can get you, sir ?" 
 
 " Nothing, thank you." 
 
 As he did not rise she asked him presently if she 
 should clear the table ; and he responded in the 
 affirmative, taking up the newspaper he had laid 
 down, and pretending again to become deeply inter- 
 ested in it. She gathered up the dishes, passing 
 around him, as her duties made it necessary. He 
 was oppressed by her presence, and felt that he could 
 not bear it much longer. One may admire the per- 
 fume of roses, and yet feel a sense of suffocation 
 when shut up in a room that is full of them. 
 
 Roland Linnette had learned to hate the world 
 that had used him so well, long before this day. 
 But at this moment he hated it worse than ever. 
 Why, he demanded of himself, should so many 
 ugly-featured and ugly-formed women ride in their 
 carriages, while an houri like this served, a common 
 waitress, in a common hotel. He remembered the 
 white-capped maids of England, rosy with health, 
 bright of eye and round of limb, putting to shame
 
 66 LOVE AT SBVBNTT. 
 
 their fat and pudgy mistresses. He could recall a 
 hundred houses of wealth in which he had been 
 made welcome on the Continent, where the last vis- 
 ion of beauty disappeared with the hall-maid. He 
 had seen the bonnes at Paris and at Vienna, grouped 
 prettily in the parks with their infantile charges, 
 and thought how a better civilization would have 
 made them the mothers of the little creatures, who 
 could never know such grace of face and figure as 
 their temporary slaves possessed. 
 
 Then his thoughts shifted again, and took in the 
 workmen at his uncle's, every one of them better 
 men than he, idling away his existence while they 
 supplied him with the abundance of which they 
 robbed themselves. 
 
 Practically Roland was an aristocrat, theoretically 
 he was an anarchist. 
 
 " I do a thousand things which I never will argue 
 are right," was one of his favorite sayings. 
 
 Maud cleared away the dishes, put the table and 
 stand where she had found them, and quietly left 
 the room. He said no more to her, and she began 
 to think he would prove a less disagreeable 
 person to wait on than she had feared. If she had 
 known all that passed in his mind she might have 
 had less cause for congratulation. 
 
 An hour later Roland sauntered into the hotel 
 office, and found the proprietor at his accounts. 
 
 " Everything is satisfactory, now, I hope ?" re- 
 marked Mr. Hanson, with the brand of smile which 
 we give to those from whom we earn our livelihood. 
 U has improved, at least," was the response.
 
 "I'M SURE I CAN TBUST YOU." 67 
 
 " What do you think of the price you get for my 
 board ? Is it large enough ?" 
 
 The landlord, who had charged this guest his very 
 highest rate, was somewhat disturbed at the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 " I do not think it is," continued the young man, 
 before the other could frame a reply. "I want a 
 good many extras, and I expect to see them in the 
 bill. For one thing, I want Miss Arline to wait upon 
 no one else while I am here. When I ring for her I 
 do not wish to hear that she is engaged in other 
 duties. Her time must be mine exclusively. Do 
 you understand ?" 
 
 Mr. Hanson bowed a slow assent. 
 
 "It shall be as you desire. But you will not for- 
 get, I hope, that I am careful of the reputation of 
 the house, and " 
 
 Roland broke in upon him savagely, in the midst 
 of his sentence. 
 
 " What do you mean by that ?" he demanded. 
 "Your statement is a reflection upon the character 
 of that young woman, which I do not believe you 
 have the slightest cause to make !" 
 
 " I surely did not so intend it," stammered the 
 landlord, in great confusion, terrified lest he had 
 angered his guest beyond repair. " On the con- 
 trary, I am positive she is innocent, and I should not 
 like" 
 
 He paused of his own accord this time, uncertain 
 how to end the sentence he had begun. 
 
 " Oh, go on ! go on !" cried Roland. " Finish I"
 
 68 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 "I meant nothing," Mr. Hanson hastened to say. 
 " I'm sure I can trust you." 
 
 " You can ' trust "me!" echoed Roland. "Who 
 the devil are you, to trust anyone ? I shall leave the 
 house to-night !" 
 
 " Don't do that, sir," expostulated the landlord, 
 greatly distressed at the prospect. "You can do 
 what you like, sir ; I am sure it's no business of 
 mine." 
 
 Roland had not the slightest intention of leaving 
 the Montvale House, but he wanted to give Hanson a 
 fright. How much further he might have gone in this 
 direction can only be surmised, for at this moment a 
 man entered the office hastily and inquired for young 
 Mr. Linnette. On being told that the individual he 
 sought stood before him, he handed Roland one of 
 the latter's address cards. 
 
 " A young fellow was found in the snow, by the 
 side of the road, several miles east of here, an hour 
 ago," said the man, "with this card in his pocket. 
 Some of us thought you might know him, and I 
 drove over to tell you." 
 
 Mechanically Roland drew out some money and 
 gave it to the messenger. He rightly believed that 
 such an errand had been prompted by expectations 
 of reward. 
 
 " Go on," he said. 
 
 " I don't know as I can tell you much. He 
 applied at a factory near there for something to do, 
 and they told him there was no chance. And soon 
 after some one saw him lying in the snow and took
 
 a I*M SURE I OAK TRUST YOU." it 
 
 him into a house. Then they got a doctor, and he 
 
 says it's an even case." 
 
 Roland looked up, much startled. 
 
 "You don't mean that he thinks it dangerous !" 
 
 "Well, that's what he seemed to say," responded 
 the messenger. " Perhaps it ain't so bad, but that's 
 the way he talked." 
 
 Roland reflected a moment. 
 
 " Is there anything to prevent your going back 
 with me, to show me the house ?" he asked. " That 
 is, of course, if I pay you for your trouble." 
 
 " I don't know's there is." 
 
 " Harness up a double sleigh as quick as you 
 can !" said Roland to Hanson, forgetting his an- 
 nounced intention of quitting the hotel. "Let Wil- 
 liam go with me. If that fellow is alive, or if he's 
 dead, for that matter, we shall bring him back 
 with us !"
 
 70 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 OLD TOM HOBBS. 
 
 The most privileged character at Montvale, aside 
 from its principal proprietor, was Tom Hobbs, 
 father of Rufus, the cashier. He had long been a 
 favorite with the senior Linnette, on account of a 
 certain bluff quality in his nature, which assorted well 
 with the latter's own disposition. On all occasions 
 Hobbs was a welcome guest at his employer's 
 mansion. The close friendship of the men dated 
 from an occasion thirty years previous to the open- 
 ing of this tale, when Hobbs then in charge of one 
 of the minor departments of the works made so 
 pronounced a stand against one of Mr. Linnette's 
 projects that he was discharged in anger from his 
 position. On the very next day the manufacturer 
 repented of his act. He sent word to Hobbs that if 
 he would apologize for the language he had used he 
 could resume his place ; and as soon as the foreman 
 could reach the office he was there. 
 
 " Did you send word that I could be reinstated if 
 I would apologize to you ?" he asked, as soon as he 
 stepped foot in the counting room. 
 
 " Why, yes," was the pleasant reply. " I know you 
 were excited and did not mean what you said." 
 
 " Do you think I am excited now ?" inquired 
 Hobbs, in his ordinary tone.
 
 OLD TOM HOBB8. 71 
 
 "No, Tom," responded his employer, with the 
 utmost affability. 
 
 " Have you any doubt that I shall mean what I say 
 this time ?" 
 
 " No, Tom." 
 
 "Well, I shall not apologize, or anything of the 
 sort? I came here to tell you to go to the devil !" 
 
 The employer looked at the speaker with conster- 
 nation. He had never heard such words addressed 
 to a man who was worth a hundred thousand dollars. 
 What could the fellow mean? 
 
 "Do you imagine," continued Hobbs, "that you 
 are any better than when you worked by my side 
 over in Ashfield for a dollar and a quarter a day ? 
 Do you think you are going to run over me with 
 your high talk of apologies? I am as good a man 
 as you ever dared to be, and I will see you in hades," 
 (only he used the old-fashioned word) " before I 
 will ever cringe to you, when I am right and you are 
 wrong." 
 
 He turned abruptly, and was about to leave the 
 room, when Willard Linnette rose and stopped him 
 with a word. 
 
 " Tom." 
 
 " Well r 
 
 " You'd better go back to your work, Tom. And 
 about that matter, perhaps it's as you say, after all. 1 ' 
 
 " I know it's as I say ! There's not the slightest 
 doubt about it !" 
 
 " All right, Tom. And Tom. You were speak- 
 ing to me about your boy the other day. He's a 
 smart little fellow, and when he gets old enough \
 
 78 LOVE AT SEYEHTT. 
 
 want to give him a place in the office. Don't forget 
 it, Tom/* 
 
 " No," replied Hobbs, without so much as a 
 " thank you." Then he asked, as if nothing had 
 happened, " Do you want anything else, for I have 
 got enough to do down to the works !" 
 
 "No. That's all, Tom. Good-day, Tom." 
 
 When the man had gone the employer sat for a 
 long time in silence, pondering over the occurrence. 
 
 " It's a good thing this happened," he mused. 
 "I've been piling up money pretty fast, and I'm 
 afraid I've been getting into the habit of saying 
 sharp things to the men, just because I'm a little 
 better off than they are. Tom was right about the 
 apology. He did a good thing to recall me to my- 
 self. I must cultivate Tom Hobbs. I must keep 
 him near me, where he can act as a brake when I 
 get to going too fast on this slippery road to pros- 
 perity. Getting a good deal of money in a hurry is 
 apt to make a man domineering. If Tom finds me 
 becoming too airy he will certainly take me down. 
 Yes, I must find a new place for Tom where we shall 
 meet oftener." 
 
 Tom Hobbs was promoted gradually until he be- 
 came general superintendent of the entire establish- 
 ment. Next to Linnette, or in any of his temporary 
 absences, Hobbs' authority was complete. He never 
 changed in the slightest degree the character shown 
 in the incident narrated. He would always express 
 his opinion of anything in the business or out of it 
 as freely as if equal owner and partner. Nearly 
 every evening he went to his employer's mansion and
 
 OLD TOM HOBB8. 7$ 
 
 indulged in a smoke with him, a game of chess, or a 
 talk on various matters, as the whim happened to 
 seize the old cronies. 
 
 Nothing of importance came into Willard Lin- 
 nette's life that Tom Hobbs did not know about, and 
 in relation to everything he expressed his views at 
 considerable length. He was consulted when the 
 baby Roland was brought to Montvale, when he 
 was sent away to school, and when he was given his 
 freedom to travel around the world. Mr. Linnette 
 did not necessarily adopt all of his friend's opinions, 
 but he argued each matter over with him, in a quiet, 
 companionable style, that enabled him to make a 
 better decision after hearing all sides of the case 
 presented. 
 
 Hobbs advanced the strongest opposition to the 
 new housekeeper and her daughter, when he learned 
 of their arrival. No good could come of it, he said. 
 What Mr* Linnette needed was another old griffin 
 like Martin, who would keep him in order. There 
 was always danger of a man's falling in love with a 
 woman of Mrs. Warren's youth and attractions. 
 
 " I am over sixty years old," smiled the other, 
 "and I think I am quite safe." 
 
 " ' There's no fool like an old fool,' " quoted Hobbs, 
 wisely. " And there are no women so shrewd to get 
 arounjd a man as these young widows." 
 
 "Well, let us suppose the very worst should take 
 place, and I should marry Mrs. Warren," said Lin- 
 nette, jocosely, " what great harm would result ? 
 You are a married man yourself, Tom. It seems
 
 74: LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 inconsistent for you tc argue against the state in 
 which you are living." 
 
 Hobbs pulled at his long pipe, which he was 
 smoking at the time, until his grizzled head was 
 enveloped in a cloud that well nigh hid it from 
 view. 
 
 " If a woman marries you now, Will Linnette," he 
 said, " what will be her object ? Your money, and 
 nothing else ; and if you were not an old dunce 
 you'd know it." 
 
 The optician glanced at his profile in a mirror 
 that hung opposite to where he sat, and stroked his 
 white beard complacently. 
 
 " I don't know about that, Tom ; I don't know 
 about that," he answered. "There is a good deal 
 to me yet, besides my pocketbook." 
 
 " Pshaw !" ejaculated his companion, contemptu- 
 ously. " It's the queerest thing that you old men " 
 Hobbs was at least five years the elder of the twain 
 "always deceive yourselves in that way. You 
 are forever thinking it is you and not your cash 
 that these designing creatures are after. Now, let 
 us imagine this young widow how old is she, should 
 you say ?" 
 
 "Oh, thirty-five or six." 
 
 " Let us imagine her given the choice between 
 you, with your fortune, and a fellow of something 
 like her own age who hadn't a cent. Why, she'd 
 marry you, of course. Let us imagine the case re- 
 versed, and say that the fellow of about her own 
 age had the money. She'd marry him, then, as sure 
 as you live. Let us imagine once more, and say
 
 OLD TOM HOBBS. 75 
 
 that you and the other fellow had an equal amount. 
 Which would she choose in that case ?" 
 
 " Why, me, of course," laughed Linnette, who 
 found in the whole matter nothing but a very enter- 
 taining joke. 
 
 " Not by a damned sight !" exclaimed Hobbs, with 
 so much unction that the other roared aloud. 
 
 " But I don't want to marry, and I never shall 
 marry, and that is all there is to it," said the capital- 
 ist, when he grew sober again. "I've got to have a 
 housekeeper, if I live here, and I've had enough of 
 your Martins. With Roland across the sea I'm glad 
 to have this woman and her child to brighten up 
 the house a little. You are getting to be a crank of 
 the first water, Tom Hobbs, and you growl at every- 
 thing." 
 
 Hobbs puffed away at his pipe. 
 
 " Perhaps I am," he replied. " Perhaps I'm 
 always wrong, and perhaps you have had occasion 
 to know that I'm pretty of ten right. Human nature 
 is the same the world over, and I'm going to make 
 a prediction right here. Either this woman will 
 make trouble for you, or that little girl will make 
 trouble for Roland." 
 
 " The little girl !" exclaimed Linnette, staring 
 hard at his companion. 
 
 " Yes, sir !" said Hobbs. " He is about twenty 
 years old. She is fifteen or sixteen. She and her 
 mother will get a foothold here, and you won't be 
 able to dislodge them. When he comes home they 
 will make a dead-set at him. You'll see !" 
 
 Mr. Linnette pooh-poohed at this, calling it sisly,
 
 76 LOVB AT SEYMTTY. 
 
 nonsensical, ridiculous, but Hobbs, with the dogma- 
 tism of his nature, persisted in reiterating his pre- 
 diction. 
 
 The owner of Montvale could not connect such a 
 probability with the slender, golden-haired child he 
 had welcomed so willingly. But, at that time, even 
 had he believed that Hobbs' worst fears would come 
 true, he would not have been alarmed at the pros- 
 pect. He had at heart only the most democratic 
 notions, and he did not see anything terrible in the 
 idea that his nephew might marry the daughter of 
 such a woman as his housekeeper. 
 
 Mrs. Warren went about her duties in a way that 
 pleased him much. The dining table did not seem 
 at all like its old self when she sat at it with him, 
 the child between them. The sunshine thus brought 
 into his life gradually reconciled him to the pro- 
 longed absence of his nephew, and finally made him 
 apprehensive of his return. It was such a nice 
 family party at that board, and around the fireplace 
 of an evening ! He used to think of Roland as so 
 much older than when he went away, and agreed 
 with Tom Hobbs that there would be a vast differ- 
 ence between the school-boy and the young gentle- 
 man who would return from his travels. 
 
 " He is getting a great deal of experience," Hobbs 
 said, one evening, " and nothing alters a young man 
 like that. He will learn all the good things and 
 the bad ones to be found over there." 
 
 44 The bad ones !" echoed Linnette, with a start. 
 
 "To be sure! Do you suppose he is going to 
 come home with the down still on his cheek ? He's
 
 OLD TOM HOBBS. 77 
 
 4 
 
 seeing the men of many lands ay, and the women, 
 too ! And it's a nice chase they'll lead him !" 
 
 Hobbs chuckled behind his pipe like some goblin 
 of old, while his companion shivered from a sensa- 
 tion he could not repress. 
 
 " He is not a boy of bad mind," he said, with an 
 effort to appear positive. 
 
 "Stuff!" growled Hobbs. "A young duck is 
 bound to swim if it's allowed to get near the water." 
 
 " I'll write to him to start home to-morrow," said 
 the uncle, anxiously. 
 
 "You'll do nothing of the kind. The best way is 
 to let him alone. He'll get sick of it all the sooner, 
 and settle down as steady as anyone, when you want 
 him, years from now." 
 
 Somehow the time never seemed right for Mr. 
 Linnette to cut short Roland's journeying. He 
 developed such an interest in Eva that, before he 
 was aware of it, his nephew's affairs became of 
 secondary importance. He ascertained that the 
 child had been very well taught for her age, and 
 proposed of his own accord that she should be sent 
 to a boarding-school, a short distance away. When 
 Mrs. Warren expressed a guarded doubt whether 
 she could afford the expense, he remarked that he 
 intended to double her salary. 
 
 Though the widow knew that the increase in 
 her compensation was made entirely on Eva's 
 account, she appreciated the kindness of the proposi- 
 tion and felt herself justified in accepting it. Eva 
 went to the boarding-school, but she did not remain 
 long. Mr. Linnette missed her quite as much as
 
 78 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 her mother did, and when she came notne at the 
 end of her first term he suggested that it would be 
 better to engage a governess, and arrange with pro- 
 fessors from the boarding-school to visit her at his 
 house. 
 
 " It will cost more, very likely," he admitted, 
 when this objection was raised by Mrs. Warren, 
 "but never mind. I have noticed that the absence 
 of the child wears on you, and I had rather pay the 
 extra sum than to exchange you for another house- 
 keeper." 
 
 Mrs. Warren had had a hard struggle to make 
 both ends meet, before she obtained this position. 
 She had lain awake many nights wondering what 
 would be the ultimate result, and what would hap- 
 pen to her young daughter when she was no longer 
 able to provide for her. The comfortable place into 
 which she had drifted, the ease with which every- 
 thing was now tided over, was very grateful after 
 those years of doubt and anxiety. She did not look 
 much into the future beyond the needs of the present 
 hour, and was very far from being of the designing 
 nature which Tom Hobbs imagined. Within a year 
 she had come to have no further thought about Eva 
 than that Mr. Linnette would see to everything. 
 
 " You are sowing a pretty crop of trouble to reap 
 one of these days," said Tom Hobbs to his employer, 
 when Eva had come home from the boarding-school 
 and was receiving instructions from special masters. 
 
 " How is that ?" inquired the other, laconically. 
 
 "Aren't you bringing up this housekeeper's 
 daughter like a lady ?"
 
 OLD TOM HOBBS. 79 
 
 "I am trying to," was the gentle answer. 
 
 "I mean, you're teaching her to regard herself as 
 above her proper station ? That's not a kindness to 
 the girl nor a piece of wisdom for ypurself." 
 
 " What is her proper station ?" inquired Linnette, 
 dreamily. 
 
 "The station of a girl who ought, if she ever 
 marries, to be a poor man's wife. What comfort 
 will she get in that position after you have filled her 
 head with all the airs that the French master and 
 the German master and the dancing-master will give 
 her?" 
 
 " She won't be worse on account of her education, 
 I hope." 
 
 Hobbs blew a cloud from his ever present pipe. 
 
 " When you get her fixed up she'll fascinate your 
 nephew. Wait and see if my words aren't true. 
 When he comes home she'll wind him around her 
 finger." 
 
 Mr. Linnette gazed abstractedly into the fireplace. 
 What did he see there ? Perhaps a happy young 
 husband and wife, and other little children that 
 looked like Eva and spoke like Roland. 
 
 "Do you really think so ?" he murmured. 
 
 "As sure as you live!" said Hobbs, impatiently. 
 "What makes you so blind ? When he comes here 
 this widow and her daughter will be ready for him. 
 They've pulled the wool over your eyes nicely, and 
 they'll do the same with your heir. They've planted 
 themselves here, and they'll own everything before 
 they've done yes, all the Linnettes and all 
 Montvale!"
 
 80 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 " Eva is only sixteen," said Linnette, absently. 
 
 And even as he spoke she came in to say good- 
 night to him. And as no one saw her Hobbs turn- 
 ing his face to the fire she placed her fair arms 
 around the neck of her foster-father and let him kiss 
 her on the brow, as was his wont. Then, tripping 
 out of the room like a fairy, she left him again to his 
 gruff companion, the encircling clouds of tobacco 
 smoke and another batch of dreary prognostications 
 in regard to her future.
 
 "YOU MEAN THE YOUNG LADY." 81 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " YOU MEAN THE YOUNG LADY." 
 
 I cannot help agreeing with the reader that it is 
 hardly fair to leave young Guy Dalton any longer in 
 his friendless condition, and we will proceed as fast 
 as Mr. Hanson's best team can take us to the house 
 where he is lying under the care of the country 
 doctor. Roland found him conscious, but very 
 weak, though able to take the sleigh-ride necessary 
 to convey him to Montvale. Supported on extra 
 pillows and covered with warm robes he rode as 
 easily as if in the most perfect ambulance. The 
 doctor came with the party and, before he left, gave 
 minute directions in relation to care and medicines. 
 He said the young fellow was merely suffering from 
 exhaustion caused by lack of nourishment, and that 
 he would come out of it all right, if given proper 
 care. 
 
 " So you wouldn't come up and dine with me, eh ?" 
 said Roland, half jokingly, half seriously, when he 
 had put his charge in bed. " But I've got you, and 
 I shall keep you. You had your way this morning, 
 now I'm going to have mine." 
 
 Guy was not long in recovering. The medicines 
 ordered by the doctor, combined with the warm 
 atmosphere of his new quarters, and the nourishing 
 food that was given him, put him on his feet inside
 
 82 LOVB AT SEVENTY. 
 
 of three days. Indeed, had his host permitted, he 
 would have left his bed sooner. He had a naturally 
 strong constitution and this was his first serious 
 illness. 
 
 Every time he spoke it was to express regret that 
 he had put his new friend to so much expense and 
 trouble. 
 
 " I must go to-morrow," he said, every morning. 
 
 " It will be time enough to see about that when 
 to-morrow comes," was the smiling reply. 
 
 On the fifth day the lad declared that he was quite 
 able to take his departure. He was impatient to 
 begin again his search for employment. 
 
 " I suppose I shall have to let you go, if you insist 
 upon it," said Roland, when all arguments failed. 
 " I will make out your bill at once." 
 
 Guy looked much troubled. 
 
 " I have nothing to pay you with," he said, " but 
 as soon as I earn anything I will send it. If you 
 will trust me " 
 
 "Oh, I can't do that," replied Roland, soberly. 
 " With a stranger, you know, one must always have 
 the cash or reasonable security." 
 
 " Alas ! I can give you nothing but my word." 
 
 " It will not do," said the other, shaking his head 
 with decision. " When a debtor is unable to pay, the 
 creditor has a right to hold his body. That has been 
 the custom in all ages. You admit that you owe me 
 some odd dollars and cents. You say you have no 
 money. Very well. I shall hold you for the amount. 
 You will have to remain here until the debt is 
 discharged."
 
 " YOU MEAN THE YOUNG LADY." 83 
 
 The lad could not tell exactly how much serious- 
 ness and how much humor there was in these pecu- 
 liar words. 
 
 " The debt would never grow smaller in that way," 
 he answered. " It would constantly be on the 
 increase. The price of my board would be added to 
 ivhat I already owe you." 
 
 Then Roland laughed. 
 
 "But if you are allowed to leave," he said, "there 
 will be various other items to charge you with. 
 Supposing you go away to-day. This evening I 
 shall receive word that you have fallen ill at some 
 point on the road and have required the services of 
 another doctor. I shall be obliged to hire a sleigh 
 to bring you back here, and go through all this nurs- 
 ing again. Then there will be a second bill for 
 medicines and the et ceteras. No, my boy, it would 
 really make you too expensive." 
 
 Dalton cast down his eyes, pained at the levity 
 with which his misfortunes were discussed. 
 
 " You think, because I did not get work before, 
 that I never shall, "said he. "The trouble was I was 
 nearly starved, and had no strength or courage. 
 When I was refused at the first place I fainted in 
 the road." 
 
 " Yes, and you would faint again," was the reply. 
 " There is no work for you in all this region. The 
 only situation you can find in a year's search is right 
 here, at your disposal. Refuse it as often as you 
 please, you will have to accept it at last." 
 
 Guy protested that it was no situation, but simply 
 charity, that was offered him.
 
 84 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 " You are quite wrong," said Roland. " If you 
 leave me when I want you so much I shall think you 
 very ungrateful. Until within the past week I have 
 been going insane. Now there are two people who 
 may save me from that fate ; you and Maud." 
 
 Guy had heard the latter name frequently during 
 the past few days. 
 
 " You mean the young lady who brings up our 
 meals," he said. 
 
 " There is but one Maud in the world," said 
 Roland, rapturously. " Possibly there are thou- 
 sands who bear that name, but there never was and 
 never will be any other Maud for me. I believe," 
 he continued, as if in a reverie, "you have never 
 seen Maud." 
 
 Dalton replied that he had only heard her voice. 
 
 " Did you ever hear another so delicious ?" 
 
 Guy replied that he thought it very agreeable. 
 
 "It is the music of an angel!" cried Roland. 
 "When I listen to it I forget that I am on this cold 
 earth, and imagine that a bit of Heaven has been let 
 down. And her face is sweeter even than her melo- 
 dious tongue. I cannot describe it you will soon 
 see for yourself." 
 
 He said this so earnestly that his young compan- 
 ion was silent, for want of something suitable in the 
 way of reply. 
 
 " How old are you ?" Roland asked, presently. 
 
 " Twenty-two years." 
 
 "Indeed! As old as myself! I shouldn't have 
 thought it. Did it ever occur to you that this is a 
 miserable, selfish world, to let such seraphs do its
 
 "YOU MEAN THB YOUNG LADY." 85 
 
 drudgery, reserving its luxury and favors for women 
 not fit to tie her shoes? I am ashamed sometimes 
 to live in it, and accept its bounty, for I am no bet- 
 ter than the rest. Why was I made to want food 
 and clothing to desire delicacy and ease ? If only 
 I could bring myself to relinquish those things, 
 there is in me the making of a hero. Willard Lin- 
 nette, who owns this hotel, this village, that grand 
 estate which you can see from the window, the 
 factories yonder (where they had no place for you), 
 even the bodies and souls of the workmen and their 
 families who have helped him build up this gigantic 
 possession, is my uncle. Of what use is it all to 
 him ? And when he is through with it, it will go to 
 an ungrateful nephew." 
 
 Guy protested mildly against the arraignment 
 which Roland made of himself. He was certain 
 that his kind host had not so mean a quality in him 
 as ingratitude. 
 
 " And your father ?" he asked. " Have you been 
 long an orphan ?" 
 
 Roland's face grew bitter. 
 
 " My father," he replied, " has sense enough to 
 know that there is more pleasure to be got from 
 books than from children. To him I am only an 
 unfortunate accident. It is my uncle to whom I 
 owe all I have, and the only return I am likely to 
 give is annoyance and disgrace." 
 
 Guy interrupted to say he was sure this was not so. 
 
 "And I am equally certain it is. What do you 
 think he would say if I told him I thought of marry* 
 ing Maud ?"
 
 86 LOVE >T SEVENTY. 
 
 Guy could not repress a start of astonishment. 
 
 " And you do ?" he exclaimed, breathlessly. 
 
 " Not at all. Being the heir of a great fortune 
 makes it an impossibility. I only say, supposing I 
 did intend it, and went to this man who was once 
 as poor as she, mind you and told him. I can hear 
 him now, in imagination : ' You young rascal, is this 
 the way you requite my favors, throwing yourself 
 away on a common working girl ? Never, sir, never, 
 will I give my consent ! If you marry her you may 
 cease to expect another penny from me !' ' 
 
 Roland's imitation of his uncle's wrath was so 
 striking that he could not help being moved to 
 laughter by his own portrayal. 
 
 " Perhaps you misjudge him," said Guy, mildly. 
 
 " I know him well enough not to try it," was the 
 reply. "And I am sure, consequently," he added, 
 very slowly, " that the natural result will follow." 
 
 His guest looked up with astonishment in his dark 
 eyes. 
 
 " What result ?" he articulated. 
 
 " As if you did not know !" responded Roland, 
 with good-natured sarcasm. " How can it be other- 
 wise ? When she has learned to love me I shall go 
 my way and leave her." 
 
 The younger man's lips opened slightly, and his 
 attitude of strained attention relaxed a little at the 
 answer. He looked more like a child, with his white 
 face, than a man of twenty-two. 
 
 " Nothing more ?" he whispered. 
 
 "I hope not," was Roland's reply. "Our fates 
 are with the gods. Come, you have talked enough
 
 "YOU MEAN THI YOUNG LADY." 87 
 
 for one day. If you are going to leave to-morrow 
 you need rest. Can you spare me for an hour ?" 
 
 Receiving an affirmative reply Roland went out 
 for a stroll, desirous of breathing the cool air of the 
 beautiful winter day. He wore leggings, in which 
 his trousers were buttoned, and a slouch hat and 
 fur-trimmed overcoat, giving him the appearance of 
 a trooper. He walked up the road, taking his 
 direction at random, and paused opposite the great 
 Linnette residence, where he had passed so much of 
 his boyhood. 
 
 The grounds were surrounded by a high wall. 
 Thinking that he would step inside for a moment he 
 went around to the massive gates, and found them 
 securely locked. This surprised him much, as he 
 had never known them in this condition except at 
 night time. As he was revolving this matter in his 
 mind he glanced up the road a little farther, and 
 saw a man at work with pickaxe and shovel. Walk- 
 ing slowly toward the man he soon recognized him 
 as Roger Butler, who had been in his uncle's employ 
 much longer than he could remember. 
 
 " Hallo, Roger !" he said, affably. 
 
 The man paused in his work, and for an instant 
 surveyed the newcomer with an expression of doubt. 
 
 " Don't you recognize me ?" cried Roland. 
 
 " I do now, sir," answered the man, taking the 
 hand that was offered him. " It's a good while since 
 I saw you, Mr. Roland. I heard tell that you had 
 come to Montvale, but I wasn't thinking of seeing 
 you up here."
 
 88 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 The young man paused to digest this statement. 
 
 " What are you doing ?" he asked. 
 
 " Well, you see, sir," replied the man, " the drain 
 is out of order, and we couldn't very well wait. I 
 don't like to go to the expense of hiring a regular 
 pipe layer, when your uncle's away, until I've made 
 sure I can't do it myself." 
 
 The workman evidently expected something in the 
 way of commendation, but Roland was silent for a 
 moment. 
 
 "How long have you worked for my uncle ?" he 
 asked, presently. 
 
 " I began, sir, over forty years ago, when he first 
 opened the works." 
 
 "You are not a young man." 
 
 " Nigh on to seventy, sir, but hale and hearty." 
 
 " You have worked pretty steadily ?" 
 
 "Never missed a day in all that time." 
 
 " You must be pretty well off, now, Roger." 
 
 The man looked in a puzzled way at his questioner. 
 
 " You must have a good deal of money laid away." 
 
 The workman shook his head decidedly. 
 
 " Not a blessed penny, sir. I have always thought 
 I did pretty well to bring up the children seven of 
 them and take care of the old woman." 
 
 Roland was not as much surprised as he pretended, 
 but he was in the mood for this kind of talk, and he 
 proceeded : 
 
 " I suppose you remember when my uncle was 
 about as poor as you." 
 
 "Yes, sir. We worked side by side at Ashfield." 
 
 " He has something laid away, I believe ?"
 
 a TOU MEAH THB YOUNG LADY." 89 
 
 The old man leaned contemplatively on his shovel 
 
 "You may well say that, sir." 
 
 "How much does he pay you a day?" pursued 
 the questioner. 
 
 "A dollar and a half." 
 
 " And how much does he get ?' 
 
 Roger shook his head, as if to imply that those 
 figures were beyond the reach of his powers of 
 computation. 
 
 " More than you, at least. Now, can you tell me 
 why? Does he work any harder? Do you think he 
 really earns a hundred times as much ?" 
 
 Roger murmured that Mr. Linnette did a big 
 business. 
 
 "That's true," assented Roland. *' His business is 
 large, but how long would it run without you and 
 such as you. And you only get a dollar and a half 
 a day !" 
 
 The man looked grateful at the interest taken in 
 him. 
 
 " I would like it if I could get a dollar seventy-five," 
 he said. " You might kindly speak to him when he 
 comes home, not saying I asked you. He has treated 
 me so well I wouldn't want him to think I was com- 
 plaining." 
 
 Roland grew retrospective. 
 
 " Do you know what you were doing the first time 
 I ever saw you, Roger ? Just what you are doing 
 now. You were working with a pick and shovel. I 
 could not have been more than five or six years old, 
 but I remember the very place in the grounds where 
 you were digging. Here you are at the same kind
 
 90 LOVB AT SEVENTY. 
 
 of occupation. When will you quit it ? When some 
 one else has to use the same tools for you, over there 
 in the cemetery. And he gives you a dollar and a 
 half a day ! Just the wages he would give a man 
 whom he had never seen before, one with whom he 
 had not eaten the black bread of poverty. Roger," 
 the speaker raised his voice, " he ought to give you 
 ten dollars a day, and tell you never to work again 
 as long as you live !" 
 
 Butler, who had been surveying the young man 
 with wonder, shook his head, as if to imply that this 
 was not likely to occur. 
 
 "What are those gates locked for?" continued 
 Roland, pointing to them. " Doesn't any one live 
 there when he is away ?" 
 
 " Only the housekeeper and her daughter, and the 
 servants," was the response. 
 
 " Her daughter ?" repeated Roland, surprised. 
 
 He glanced up at the windows that were nearest 
 to him, and saw a fair face that disappeared almost 
 instantly from view.
 
 AKOD1TD THE POST-OFFICE FIBK. 91 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 AROUND THE POST-OFFICE FIRE. 
 
 The next morning, when Guy Dalton spoke again 
 of leaving, Roland answered him quite sharply. He 
 declared that if he carried out his purpose he would 
 have nothing more to do with him no, not if the 
 news came that he was dying on the road. Affected 
 by this earnestness the young fellow yielded, and 
 promised to remain for the present. It required a 
 more prolonged struggle of mind before he would 
 allow his friend to order him a suit of clothing from 
 the village tailor, but finally he accepted that also. 
 
 The new garments made a striking change in his 
 appearance. That he was not wholly oblivious to 
 his good looks, a long stay in front of the mirror on 
 the morning of their arrival, testified. Roland 
 wished he knew more of his history, for he was cer- 
 tain that he had not always been in his present im- 
 pecunious condition ; but he had too much polite- 
 ness to annoy his guest with questions at a time 
 when they could hardly help proving disagreeable. 
 
 The two young men took their meals together in 
 Roland's sitting-room, now that Guy was able to be 
 about. The first morning that they breakfasted 
 together Roland asked his friend pointedly what he 
 thought of their waitress.
 
 92 LOVB AT SEVENTY. 
 
 " Is she not a beauty !" he exclaimed, the instant 
 Miss Arline shut the door behind her. 
 
 " I did not observe her very closely," responded 
 Dalton, evasively. 
 
 " Don't tell me that !" laughed the other. " I had 
 my eye on you, and I feared by your expression that 
 you considered her part of the men*." 
 
 " Has she not been in the habit of sitting at your 
 table ?" asked Guy, to divert his companion's 
 attention. 
 
 " For the last few days, yes. It was insufferable 
 here, with no one to speak to, and yotf lying in the 
 room yonder. She sat down with me and pretended 
 to eat, but I know she didn't enjoy Jt. She is 
 intensely sensitive and inclined to be easily 
 frightened." 
 
 The young fellow looked up with a pained expres- 
 sion in his eyes. 
 
 " I can't see why you want her to do i^fcat was 
 disagreeable ?" 
 
 Roland laughed lightly. 
 
 " Can't you ?" he asked, laconically. 
 
 " It does not seem like the other things yov do." 
 
 " What other things ?" 
 
 "Your thoughtfulness on my account, for <&ne," 
 said Guy, in a shaking voice. 
 
 Roland studied his companion's face intently. 
 
 "But, you see, Maud is a woman," he repkJed, 
 very slowly. 
 
 "I do not understand," was the quick re[ N ly, 
 "why that should lessen your kindness to her." 
 
 *' Should?" repeated the other, with a ris4^JJ
 
 THE POttT-OFFICE FIRE. 93 
 
 inflection. ' Shojld ' is a great word, Guy. Pro- 
 bably Maud's sex should not lessen my considera- 
 tion ; but it does, that is the thing at issue. It less- 
 ens the kindness of every man to every woman, the 
 moment she becomes dependent upon his purse. I 
 suppose I am as bad a man as ever lived, but in this 
 respect I am no worse than the rest." 
 
 Dalton shook his head slowly, as though far from 
 convinced. Still he did not like to enter upon an 
 argument with his benefactor. 
 
 " Shall I prove it to you ?" asked Roland, after a 
 pause. " You are not a child, though sometimes 
 you put on the look of one. I want you to come 
 with me some evening to the village post-office, or 
 one of the stores, and listen to the talk of the men 
 who gather there. They may discuss politics or 
 business while a dozen women come and go. But 
 presently one will appear at whose advent all con- 
 versation languishes. While she remains little is 
 done but staring her in the face, or nudging some 
 newcomer to call his attention to her. 
 
 " What has happened ? Why, gossip has begun 
 to connect her name with scandal. Someone has 
 hinted that she is not as good as she might be. 
 Young Parkley has been driving with her, and every- 
 body can guess what that means. She has been 
 seen in another town, late in the evening, walking 
 with a man not known in Montvale. The group in 
 the store or post-office stare at her as long as she 
 remains, and when she goes out they discuss her 
 alleged faults with glistening eyes and lickerish 
 mouths, leaning over each others' shoulders, fearful
 
 94 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 lest they should lose a word. Montvale is a town 
 of more than average virtue, but I have seen this 
 here, even in the brief time since my return. And 
 what happens here occurs in increasing ratio in 
 towns of larger size all over the country all over 
 the so-called civilized earth." 
 
 An expression of the deepest horror spread over 
 the face of the listener. 
 
 "These men who sit around the stores and par- 
 ticipate in these discussions," continued Roland, 
 apparently pleased to find that he was making an 
 impression, " have, many of them, daughters of their 
 own. If one of them saw a dog worrying a neigh- 
 bor's sheep he would leave his work till he got the 
 animal into its fold. If he heard that a wolf had 
 been seen on the hillside he would mention it to 
 every farmer he met, that they might bring in their 
 young cattle. If his neighbor's daughter was 
 going for a sail on the lake, and he knew that the 
 boat was leaking, or noticed a storm coming up, he 
 would run a mile to save her. But when he hears 
 something that may wreck her life forever, how 
 seldom will he warn either her or her parents ! 
 
 " It is notorious that the father and mother of a 
 girl who goes astray are the last persons to suspect 
 that anything is the matter. Everybody else will 
 tell you they have been suspicious for a long time, 
 but to her own family her fall comes like a clap of 
 thunder. The mother will say, ' I knew Mamie was 
 fond of company and a good time, but I never 
 dreamed that anything could go wrong with her.' 
 Yet these men at the post-office knew ! Some of
 
 ABOUND THE POST-OFFICE FTRE. 95 
 
 them had talked with her in a way which showed 
 they did not think very severely of her peccadilloes. 
 Had there been opportunity they would have joined 
 their guilt to hers, as freely as if they had not known 
 her in her cradle, as if she had not played with their 
 children in pinafores !" 
 
 The listener sat like one entranced. 
 
 " I have made a study of this thing, my boy, and I 
 speak by the card," continued Roland. " I presume 
 I have talked with hundreds of girls in all countries, 
 for I have been a great traveller. Until a little while 
 ago I had not seen my native land for three years. 
 When I went abroad I was as innocent as you seem 
 to be. [ could hardly believe that I should find in 
 the United States what had so astonished me on the 
 other side of the world. Now I know there is no 
 difference, or if there is, it is not to the credit of 
 America. If I were to proclaim aloud what I have 
 seen, there would arise a howl that could be heard 
 from here to San Francisco." 
 
 The speaker rose and took a few steps up and 
 down the room, and Guy found words to ask if 
 Roland had any remedy to suggest for the state of 
 affairs which he pictured. 
 
 "7 suggest !" echoed young Linnette, suddenly 
 dropping his sober manner and breaking into a 
 laugh. " I would be a nice sort of individual to sug- 
 gest things, wouldn't I ? My residence is made of 
 crystal. I am not going into the stone-throwing 
 business to any alarming extent." 
 
 " But something must be done," persisted Guy, 
 earnestly.
 
 96 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 " Some one has said," smiled Roland, " that the 
 best way to reform the world is for each person to 
 reform himself. It is easier for the child who never 
 tasted wine to abstain from drunkenness than it is 
 for the confirmed sot. It is rather late for me, but 
 you can set the world a shining example." 
 
 He meant to bring a laugh to the countenance of 
 his guest, but Guy was as sober as ever. 
 
 "You began this," he said, hesitatingly, "by a 
 reference to Miss Arline. Surely it has no rightful 
 connection with her ?" 
 
 " Indeed it has," was the reply. " Maud is poor 
 as a church-mouse, pretty and friendless. Our 
 wretch of a landlord assigns her to my especial use 
 because he knows that my bills will be paid, no 
 matter how large he makes them." 
 
 " And also, I hope, because he has confidence in 
 you." 
 
 "Nothing of the kind. He knows that Maud is 
 in danger." 
 
 Guy stared wildly at his companion. 
 
 " But she is not in danger from you ?" he whis- 
 pered, hoarsely. 
 
 Roland looked earnestly at the impetuous youth. 
 
 " Do you think so ?" he replied. 
 
 "You cannot mean " 
 
 "Don't get excited, my dear boy," said Linnette, 
 with a trace of weariness in his tone. " I only know 
 what results follow certain conditions." 
 
 Guy had risen and taken a step nearer his com- 
 panion, where he stood with folded arms, defying
 
 ABOUND THE POST-OFFICE FIEE. 97 
 
 him. He was as picturesque a figure, Roland 
 thought, as he had ever seen. 
 
 " You shall not ! " he cried. "1 will prevent you !" 
 
 " I certainly give you leave," laughed Roland. 
 "And, I assure you, you have my best wishes for 
 success." 
 
 Guy looked into the amused face and heaved a 
 sigh of relief. 
 
 " Forgive me," he said. " I forgot what I was 
 doing. It is plain that you were jesting." 
 
 "Don't be too sure," replied Roland, putting on 
 his overcoat. " But I am going out to take a walk. 
 To-morrow, if it is pleasant, you ought to be able to 
 stand a sleigh-ride with me." 
 
 It was to the counting room of the Montvale 
 Optical Company that the young man took his way. 
 Before he returned he had made Tom Hobbs prom- 
 ise to offer Guy a place in the manufactory, in such 
 a manner that the young fellow would not suspect 
 he had any hand in it. 
 
 Two hours later Miss Arline came to young Mr. 
 Linnette's apartments to see if anything was re- 
 quired, and Guy found courage to say a few words 
 to her. 
 
 " I fear I am making you double work while I 
 stay," he ventured. 
 
 " That's nothing ; I have very little to do," she 
 said. 
 
 " I believe you have only these rooms to see to," 
 said he. 
 
 " Only these," replied the girl, with a slight blush.
 
 98 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 " Are you glad I came ?" demanded Guy, earnestly, 
 " or would you rather he were here alone ?" 
 
 The question startled her. It seemed almost 
 impertinent, but as she regarded the eyes that 
 looked into hers she could not take offence. 
 
 At this juncture Roland came unannounced into 
 the room. 
 
 "What! Conspiring already!" he exclaimed, 
 gaily, glancing from one to the other
 
 "I AM BOLAND," SAID HI. 99 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 "I AM ROLAND," SAID HE. 
 
 The engagement of young Dalton as assistant in 
 the Optical Works was hailed by him with the great* 
 est delight. He had chafed severely at his enforced 
 idleness, and at the indebtedness which he was 
 piling up. 
 
 " Congratulate me !" he cried to Roland. " I am 
 the happiest fellow in the world. Not only can I 
 earn my bread and repay you what I have borrowed, 
 but I shall still be where I can see you often." 
 
 " With all my heart, if you wish it," was the 
 response. " And so, I am sure, will Maud." 
 
 Dalton blushed at this, which made Roland laugh 
 heartily. 
 
 " You will share these rooms with me, just tha 
 same, I hope," he said. " If you go elsewhere therd 
 will be no one to keep an eye on me and the pretty 
 waitress." 
 
 Guy answered, hesitatingly, that he feared he 
 could hardly afford so expensive a home. 
 
 " That's an original idea !" said the other. " A man 
 who is going to draw a salary can't afford as good 
 quarters as he did when he was earning nothing ! 
 Stay where you are, and I will see that Hanson 
 makes it all right. He charges me enough for tlwee 
 or four, as it is. And, really, I need the restraint of
 
 100 LOTE AT SETEHTT. 
 
 your presence and example more than I can tell 
 you." 
 
 So it was settled that Guy would stay at the Mont- 
 vale House for the present. 
 
 Roland had been thinking a good deal of that face 
 he had seen at the window of the Linnette mansion 
 the face, as Roger Butler had told him, of " the 
 housekeeper's daughter." It was the kind to appeal 
 to his love of the beautiful ; and there was another 
 element which had its full effect on a mind so sus- 
 ceptible as his. There was a decided mystery con- 
 nected with the affair. 
 
 Why had his uncle left orders that the great gates 
 to his exetnsive grounds should be kept locked 
 during his absence ? Roland could remember them 
 from his earliest years, standing wide open all day. 
 There could be nothing in the grounds which needed 
 the special protection of their strong arms, unless it 
 was this sylph-like creature. 
 
 " The housekeeper's daughter !" 
 
 She surely was not the daughter of the house- 
 keeper that he remembered. Mrs. Martin must 
 have gone away. What kind of housekeeper was it 
 who could be fhe mother of such a creature ? And 
 what had Willard Linnette, the confirmed bachelor, 
 the man who had always avoided feminine society, 
 to do with either of them ? 
 
 Roland determined not to leave Montvale until he 
 had found an answer to these questions. His heart, 
 or what Miss Arline had left untouched of it, had 
 gone out to the face he had seen at the window. 
 For the fiftieth occasion in the course of his brief
 
 "l AM BOLAHD," SAID HE. 101 
 
 life he was entangled in what he believed a genuine 
 case of unalterable affection. 
 
 The first time he found Butler alone he stopped 
 for another talk with him. 
 
 " Do you know what became of Mrs. Martin, who 
 was housekeeper here so long?" was his initial in- 
 quiry. 
 
 He had already heard from people at the hotel 
 that she had left Montvale. 
 
 "I believe she went West to live with one of her 
 sons," responded Roger. 
 
 " What a cross old lady she was !" exclaimed 
 Roland, with a reminiscent laugh. " I used to think 
 sometimes my uncle was really afraid of her. Not 
 much like the one he has now," he added, at a ven- 
 ture. 
 
 " I think everybody likes Mrs. Warren," replied 
 the unsuspecting old man, " though she keeps in- 
 doors so much. But, of course, Miss Eva's not being 
 well makes a difference." 
 
 Roland replied, with a wise look, that it did, 
 indeed. 
 
 " Miss Eva does not go out much, either ?" 
 
 " Much ?" repeated Roger. " Never. It is months 
 since I saw her outside the grounds. She doesn't 
 mix with the town people, you see. And since she 
 left the boarding school her teachers always come 
 on the train and go directly to the house. She has 
 had all the eddication they can give her, but if she 
 doesn't live to grow up it won't do her much 
 good."
 
 102 LOTE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 The young man felt a blow at the heart. Could 
 it be that his idol was stricken with a fatal disease ? 
 
 "What is it that ails her?" he found strength to 
 inquire. 
 
 " They can't find out," replied Roger. " They've 
 had every big doctor there is, and every one of 'em 
 is puzzled. She looks well enough, all but the pale- 
 ness, but she is failing every day. It's my opinion 
 she'll go sudden." 
 
 Roland cried out, as if he had been struck. 
 
 " Don't say that, Roger !" Then, in return to the 
 surprised look of the old man, he continued, "It 
 seems dreadful that one so young should be destined 
 to death ! Not only for her, but for " 
 
 He hesitated, being about to add " her mother," 
 but Roger misunderstood him, and innocently 
 revealed another secret. 
 
 " Yes, he does take it to heart pretty badly, Mr. 
 Roland. Having never been married, and so having 
 no children of his own, this little girl sort of filled a 
 vacancy in the place." 
 
 He rambled on, with much more to the same 
 effect, but the young man hardly heard him. He 
 knew what vacancy this girl had filled. He saw, as 
 if by the drawing away of a curtain, why his uncle 
 had endured his absence so well ; why he had shown 
 such a mild joy at his return ; why he had preferred 
 to have him live at the hotel ; why he had locked 
 the big gates. But with all these reflections no feel- 
 ing of selfishness came to the surface. His interest 
 in the face he had seen at the window was too great 
 for that.
 
 "l AM ROLAND," SAID HE. 103 
 
 When Roland went away it was with the deter- 
 mination to see Miss Eva, even at the risk of his 
 uncle's displeasure. Though he haunted the neigh- 
 borhood for a good part of each day, it was nearly 
 a week before he had an opportunity such as he 
 desired. He wanted a private interview with the 
 girl, which he had no reason to believe he could 
 obtain unless her mother was absent from the 
 premises. At last his patience was rewarded by see- 
 ing a lady driven out by the coachman who had 
 served the family ever since Roland could remem- 
 ber. She, he had no doubt, must be the new house- 
 keeper. 
 
 The gates were closed and locked promptly after 
 the passage of the carriage, and ten minutes later 
 the watcher rang the bell at the lodge entrance. 
 
 A lame and aged servitor answered the ring, and 
 stared with much surprise when he saw who had 
 given the summons. 
 
 " Ah, it's you, is it, Mr. Roland ?" he said, with an 
 attempt at cordiality. " I heard you were in the 
 village, but I did not expect to see you, and you 
 have changed a great deal. You are looking finely, 
 though. I suppose you thought your uncle had 
 returned, but he has not come yet. We expect him, 
 now, in a day or two." 
 
 There was nothing in this plausible address that 
 implied a welcome to the prospective heir of the 
 house. On the contrary, the porter seemed impa- 
 tient to close the interview and the gate at the same 
 time. Roland decided on a bold front. 
 
 " I want to get some books, Slocum," said he,
 
 10-f LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 brushing by the man unceremoniously. u I know 
 exactly where they are. There is no need for you 
 to go with me." 
 
 The porter was in a quandary. Though Mr. Lin* 
 nette had said nothing which absolutely directed him 
 to exclude his nephew from the house, he had im- 
 plied by innuendo that he was not expected there. 
 Slocum had a grave fear of displeasing his employer, 
 and, on the other hand, no one could tell how soon 
 this young fellow might become master of Montvale. 
 Roland did not give him long to debate these ques- 
 tions, for he started off at a good rate of speed 
 toward the house. 
 
 "You cannot get into the library," called Slocum, 
 hobbling after him, his lameness not permitting a 
 faster gait. "The master locked up everything 
 when he went away." 
 
 The young man did not slacken his pace in the 
 least. 
 
 " Mrs. Warren must have the keys," he called 
 back. 
 
 " Mrs. Warren has gone out, sir," protested the 
 man, nervously. 
 
 " Well, she will probably soon return." 
 
 " No, sir, she will be gone several hours. She has 
 gone to Steinberg, to consult the doctor." 
 
 This was exactly what Roland wanted to know. 
 Feeling that undue haste was no longer necessary, 
 he paused till the old servant could reach him. 
 
 " I hope Miss Eva is not worse," he said. And, in 
 spite of all he could do, he looked anxious. 
 
 " No, sir, not specially," replied Slocum, thrown
 
 "I AM ROLAND," BAID HE. 105 
 
 off his guard by Roland's familiar manner. " She is 
 no worse, but then again she is no better, and 
 the doctor has to be consulted frequently. He 
 comes here twice a week, but Mrs. Warren had not 
 been out for some days, and I think she wanted the 
 ride. It is confining for her, sir, just now." 
 
 Roland stood for a few moments in thought. 
 
 *' Where does she keep the library keys ?" he 
 asked, finally. 
 
 " I I think it will be better," stammered the 
 man, " if you will wait till she returns. She does 
 not like to have anyone go into the house when she 
 is out." 
 
 Slocum had no sooner said this than he quailed 
 before the glance that met his. 
 
 " When I want your advice," said Roland, 
 severely, " I shall probably ask for it ! You have a 
 great deal of assurance to offer it unsolicited. You 
 know where the keys are kept as well as you know 
 where your tongue is." 
 
 Feeling that he had done all that could be required 
 of him, and reflecting that, after all, Mr. Linnette 
 had given no positive directions in the matter, 
 Slocum began to make the most profuse apologies. 
 
 " Oh, drop that," replied Roland, shortly, " and 
 tell me where those keys are !" 
 
 " I think Miss Eva has them, sir. Shall I go " 
 
 "Yes, when you are asked to," interrupted the 
 young man, stopping the servant as he was starting 
 toward the mansion. "And let me tell you now, 
 once for all, that I will not stand your imperti-
 
 106 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 nence. Show me where I can find Miss Eva, and 
 then return to your duties." 
 
 The old man was plunged into new alarm. While 
 it was true that no directions had ever been given 
 upon the subject, he knew, by that unspoken and 
 unwritten law on which tradition is based, that no 
 person ought to make his way in such a manner into 
 Miss Warren's presence. Teachers had always been 
 piloted through the house, and not even her phy- 
 sicians had been permitted to meet her unchaper- 
 oned. 
 
 Slocum felt that his situation might depend on 
 this unlucky dilemma, and yet he saw no way to 
 escape from it. More sternly than before, Roland 
 demanded in what part of the house he might expect 
 to find Miss Eva. 
 
 The old man, in great perturbation, began to move 
 slowly toward the dwelling. 
 
 " No, I will not trust you," said Roland. " You 
 had as lief report some invention of your own as the 
 truth. Go back to your lodge. I will ring the 
 house-bell myself." 
 
 Glad to escape at any cost, Slocum limped away, 
 and Roland proceeded up the walk toward the front 
 door. 
 
 Before he reached the edifice, however, a young 
 girl came forth unattended. It was the vision which 
 for so long had haunted his waking and sleeping 
 hours. 
 
 Seeing a stranger, the girl paused and seemed 
 about to retreat ; but he pressed eagerly forward. 
 
 " I am Roland Linnette," said he.
 
 "l AM ROLAND," SAID HI. 107 
 
 "Why, so you are," was the reply, delivered in a 
 voice of wonderful sweetness. 
 
 Then, without more ado, she came to meet him, 
 and as frankly as an old friend, put her hand m 
 bis.
 
 108 IX>VI AT SEVENTY. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A PARAGON OF INNOCENCE. 
 
 Miss Eva, though eighteen years of age, looked 
 considerably younger, on account of the illness from 
 which she suffered. She appeared more like a child 
 than a young lady, and her manner completely 
 charmed the young man who had made such an 
 effort to see her. 
 
 "You speak as if you had met me before," said he, 
 as soon as the first greetings were over. 
 
 " I saw you once," she replied. " You were talk- 
 ing with old Mr. Butler, out there in the road. 
 "One of the domestics told me who you were; 
 and besides, there is a large picture of you in your 
 uncle's room, which I have often looked at." 
 
 In his uncle's room ! She was evidently on pretty 
 familiar terms with her mother's employer. 
 
 " That picture was painted a very long while ago,'* 
 he responded. " It can't look much as I do now." 
 
 " Oh, yes, it does. And I've heard a great deal 
 about you." 
 
 He bent upon her his brightest glance. 
 
 "What have you heard about me ?" he queried. 
 
 " Why, I know that you have been a great traveller, 
 and that you are staying at the hotel, and but 
 won't you come into the house ? I can't remain out 
 long on account of the dampness."
 
 A PARAGON OF INNOCENCE. 109 
 
 He accepted the invitation, though much surprised 
 to receive it. This young girl had not been brought 
 up so very strictly, or she would have declined to 
 meet him thus alone. 
 
 " I have been in Montvale two months," he said, 
 when they were seated. " I suppose you think it 
 strange that I have not called here sooner." 
 
 She shook her head smilingly. 
 
 " No, I did not expect you at all." 
 
 " That requires an explanation. Didn't you know 
 this was the home of my childhood, in fact the only 
 place which could be called a home that I have ever 
 known ?" 
 
 Miss Eva bowed thoughtfully. 
 
 " Yes, I knew. When I first came here your uncle 
 was always talking of you. He read a great many 
 of your letters to me. At that time he seemed so 
 wrapped up in you that I thought he would soon 
 send for you to return." 
 
 A contemplative sigh escaped from the listener. 
 
 " But he never did," said he. " I was gone more 
 than three years, and he seemed to get along with- 
 out me very well." 
 
 " Yes," assented the girl. " He got reconciled after 
 a while. We can get used to anything in time, I 
 think." 
 
 He could not help uttering the thought that was 
 uppermost in his mind. 
 
 " And he had you to help him, you know." 
 
 "Yes," she said, with a bright smile. "He had 
 me, then." 
 
 Was ever a girl of her age so childlike ! She had
 
 110 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 stepped into his place in the uncle's regard, and 
 talked as if he ought to be rather pleased to 
 hear it. 
 
 " They tell me you are not well," he said, with a 
 touch of anxiety in his tone. " What seems to be 
 the matter ?" 
 
 " I don't know. The doctors don't know, either, 
 though I have had a dozen of them. But I'll tell 
 you what I think. It is too dreary for me here, see- 
 ing the same things and doing the same things day 
 after day. I need something to excite my mind, to 
 stir my blood. Your uncle has tried to do every- 
 thing for me. Before I had been here a month he 
 bought me a pony to ride ; but when I am on his 
 back I have nowhere to go. They don't like to let 
 me outside the grounds. It is very dull, cantering 
 through the same roads and back again. Then I 
 have my language teachers, and music masters, and 
 I get so tired of them ! If I was ever to put their 
 teaching to any use it would be different, but every- 
 one tells me I must do nothing, that I am to be a 
 lady, and it all seems so selfish. I am not really 
 sick. There is no pain in me anywhere, unless it is 
 here, at my heart, like that of a prisoned bird that 
 pines to escape from the gilded cage that is kill- 
 ing it." 
 
 She clasped her hands over her left side, emphasiz- 
 ing the expression. 
 
 "Does my uncle kaow how you feel ?" he asked, 
 breathlessly. 
 
 " Oh, no ! I could not talk to him as I am talking 
 to you. Indeed, I hav never said as much before,
 
 A PARAGON OF INNOCENCE. Ill 
 
 not even to my mother. Something betrayed me 
 into it, for which I cannot account. Perhaps it was 
 because I have envied so much your opportunities to 
 travel, to know what the world is by actual observa- 
 tion. I'm afraid my chief sin is that of envy. Why, 
 I envy even the servants in this house, who have their 
 regular afternoons when they can go out alone, with- 
 out giving an account of every moment. I have 
 actually dreamed of running away, to become a happy 
 shop-girl, or to ask alms in the street, for the very 
 beggars have more freedom than I." 
 
 What a wild idea to enter the brain of that child i 
 
 " If you are to be a lady," said Roland, thought- 
 fully, " you must take the trammels of your position 
 along with its advantages." 
 
 The girl laughed softly. 
 
 " But I did not ask for any of these things. Though 
 we were very poor when we came here, I was con- 
 tented. We had only two gowns apiece, but that was 
 quite enough. Mr. Linnette insists on all these 
 extra expenses, and I wish so much that he wouldn't. 
 I can't make mother understand the way I feel about 
 it. She says it is very hard for a woman to earn a 
 living who has only herself to rely upon. But I had 
 rather live like a gipsy than the way we do." 
 
 Roland was getting information with a vengeance. 
 It was evident that his uncle had practically adopted 
 this girl and her mother. He began to wonder if a 
 new will had been made, entitling them to a large 
 share in the estate which was to have been his. Not 
 a hateful sensation came with the thought, however ; 
 only astonishment that the staid old bachelor could
 
 112 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 have had his heart so much affected by anything in 
 the shape of womankind. 
 
 " My uncle did not intend I should know you 
 were here," he said, exchanging confidence for con- 
 fidence. " I only learned by accident that he had 
 changed housekeepers. When he met me at New 
 York, after my return from abroad, he suggested 
 that I should go to the hotel when I came to Mont- 
 vale. And as soon as I arrived in town he had his 
 gates closed and locked, as if you were some crim- 
 inal that I might assist to freedom." 
 
 "That is very odd," commented the girl, with her 
 astonishing frankness. "Very odd, indeed, when 
 people used to say that he intended you to marry 
 me." 
 
 The statement nearly took the young man's 
 breath away. There was no change in Eva's voice 
 or manner as she uttered it. She spoke as if the 
 idea was the most ordinary one imaginable. 
 
 " People used to say that, did they ?" he managed 
 to repeat. 
 
 " Yes. It seemed to be generally understood." 
 
 " But they don't say it any more ?" he ventured, 
 interrogatively. 
 
 " N-no," she replied, regretfully. " Not lately." 
 
 He noticed the tone in which she uttered this, 
 and thought it about time to say something humor- 
 ous. 
 
 " I suppose you are sorry," he remarked, smiling. 
 
 " Well, I knew I should like you. When I heard 
 them talking in that way I used to go and look at 
 your picture. ' If he marries me,' I thought, ' he
 
 A PARAGON OF INNOCENCE. 113 
 
 will take me away, and I shall be glad of that.' Of 
 course, a married woman has more freedom than a 
 young girl." 
 
 In all his travels he had never heard anything half 
 so entertaining. 
 
 " It is rather a pity," he said, with a smile, " that 
 the gossips who outlined your fortune should not 
 have carried it to completion." 
 
 With her face as sober as ever, she seemed to 
 entirely agree with him. He resolved on a bold 
 stroke. 
 
 " Eva, do you like me still ?" 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Roland." 
 
 He leaned toward her, with his most bewitching 
 expression. 
 
 " Prove it, then, by giving me a kiss." 
 
 She reddened a little for the first time. 
 
 " If you were going to marry me I would," she 
 said. " I should not like to have two men in the 
 world who had kissed me." 
 
 He was so dumbfounded by her manner that for 
 a moment he did not know what to do. All that 
 had been said was evidently of the utmost serious- 
 ness to her. 
 
 "It would hardly do for me to marry against the 
 wishes of my uncle, upon whom I rely for every- 
 thing," he remarked, tentatively. 
 
 The color faded from the fair cheek. 
 
 "We could not marry without his consent could 
 we ?" he insisted. 
 
 She fixed her innocent eyes intently upon him. 
 
 " Not unless we ran away," she replied, slowly.
 
 114: LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 " Would you leave everything, your home, your 
 mother, all for me ?" he cried, astounded. 
 
 Her femininity was asserting itself. Her eyes had 
 left his face and were gazing at the carpet. 
 
 " Yes," she said, in a voice scarcely audible. 
 
 As he looked at her the full knowledge of his 
 vacillating nature swept across his brain. He was 
 " in love," of course. But he had been as much in 
 love many, many times, and had awakened to find 
 his passion at an end. He resolved to use a little 
 more sense with this girl, for Willard Linnette 
 might not be a good man to trifle with. 
 
 "There are many things to think of," he said, in 
 a grave voice. " I like you very much, and I want 
 to see you often, that we may talk this over. You 
 are such a prisoner that we shall have to invent some 
 method of communication. Have you no servant 
 who can be bribed ?" 
 
 Miss Eva looked pleased at the suggestion that he 
 would meet her. 
 
 " There are none of them who would take your 
 money, I am sure," she answered, "but Charlotte 
 (she is my maid) would do anything I asked. There 
 is a rear door in the high wall that is very seldom 
 used, and to which I have a key. Would you mind 
 coming at a very late hour, when everyone else is 
 a-bed ?" 
 
 The innocence of the face she turned toward him 
 was a marvel. It surpassed anything he had ever 
 seen or heard of. To meet such a Juliette in the 
 manner she described was like a chapter from a
 
 A PARAGON OF INNOCENCE. 115 
 
 Story book. Whatever the risks involved Roland 
 Linnette was not the man to refuse this invitation. 
 
 " I will come at any hour you wish," he responded. 
 " Only, be very careful. There must be no doubt of 
 your maid's fealty, nor of her thorough judgment." 
 
 The next half hour was spent on details, which 
 were satisfactorily arranged. Eva called Charlotte, 
 who gave evidence of being wholly devoted to the 
 service of her mistress. A way in which notes could 
 be exchanged the first thing of importance was 
 provided for. Then, remarking that risk enough 
 had been run on the present occasion, Roland parted 
 from the two girls and sought the library, in order 
 to carry out the pretense with which he had entered 
 the house. 
 
 As he expected, he found the room Bpen, notwith- 
 standing the fable that Slocum had invented. The 
 rows of volumes familiar to his boyish eyes began 
 to interest him, and he was soon seated in one of 
 the leather-covered chairs, engrossed in pages that 
 he had read long years before the " Adventures of 
 Gil Bias of Santillane." Delighted to con again 
 that masterpiece of fiction, especially as he had since 
 reading it visited many of the places described by 
 Le Sage, he did not hear the opening of a door, nor 
 see a man's form enter. It gave him quite a shock 
 when he looked up from the page he was reading, 
 and saw his uncle standing within a yard of him. 
 
 " Why ! How long have you been here ?" he ex- 
 claimed, rising, and speaking nervously. " I did not 
 hear a sound." 
 
 Willard Linnette did his best to conceal the anx-
 
 116 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 iety he felt. He had just left Slocum, who had told 
 him of the young master's persistence in entering 
 the house, in spite of all his efforts to dissuade him. 
 He would have given a good deal to know whether 
 Roland had seen Eva, but there was no way to find 
 out except by asking one of them, which he was too 
 proud to think of doing. 
 
 " I have just arrived from New York," was the 
 quiet answer. " Business detained me longer than I 
 expected." 
 
 Roland could see that his uncle was troubled, but 
 he affected not to notice it. As Mr. Linnette 
 remained standing, he considered this a hint that he 
 had best be going. 
 
 " Let me take a few of these books," he said, 
 picking up several. " I will send them back when I 
 have finished them. It almost renews my boyhood, 
 to see these dear old authors again." 
 
 Mr. Linnette bowed. 
 
 "It is nearly time for supper," he said, constrain- 
 edly. "Won't you remain and take the meal with 
 me ?" 
 
 " No, thank you, unless you are particular," re- 
 plied the nephew, realizing that a refusal was the 
 better part of judgment. " Hanson expects me." 
 
 The manufacturer was growing relieved. He 
 began to feel certain that no meeting between the 
 young people had taken place. 
 
 "As you like," said he. " By-the-way, have you 
 decided how much longer you will remain at Mont- 
 vale ?" 
 
 It was as plain as if the words had said it that
 
 A PARAGON OF HWOOENCE. 117 
 
 Willard Linnette would not regret the day when his 
 nephew turned his back on the village. The young 
 man felt a severe wound to his amour propre t but he 
 was too much master of himself to show it. 
 
 " 1 would rather leave that to you, sir," he answered, 
 dutifully. ' I must admit there is more going on in 
 the way of entertainment at New York than here. 
 If it is quite the same to you I shall run on there 
 within a few weeks ; though I can return at any time, 
 should you desire." 
 
 A few weeks ! Mr. Linnette wondered what was 
 the reason for this delay, but he could not lessen the 
 time without exciting suspicion. There seemed 
 nothing more to say, and the relations parted at the 
 door. 
 
 When Roland reached the hotel he was met with 
 the startling announcement that Miss Arlinehad left 
 suddenly, giving no intimation as to where she would 
 make her future home. 
 
 He made no comment upon this news, but young 
 Dalton received it with consternation, when he 
 returned from his work. 
 
 " I am afraid this means something disagreeable," 
 Guy said to his friend, when he had deliberated for 
 a long time upon the matter. 
 
 " D n it, yes ! It means Giddings to wait on 
 me !" was the only reply that Roland vouchsafed. 
 
 He did not intend to convey his suspicions to any- 
 one else at present, but he was as certain as that he 
 breathed that Willard Linnette's hand was in this
 
 118 LOVE AT SEVEMTY. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 t 
 
 PLAYING A GAME OF CHESS. 
 
 i 
 
 The second evening after the day when Mr. Lin- 
 nette, Sr., came home, he was sitting in the library 
 where he had met his nephew, and this time he had 
 old Tom Hobbs as his companion. Hobbs was 
 occupied in puffing clouds of smoke from his pipe, 
 after his usual fashion, and a chess board that had 
 served them for a quarter century stood between 
 the two men. 
 
 " Do you suppose Roland came here for anything 
 but to get those books ?" asked Mr. Linnette, paus- 
 ing between the moves. 
 
 " Shouldn't wonder," responded Hobbs, mechani- 
 cally. " What if he did ?" 
 
 The instrument maker made his next play with 
 caution. 
 
 " I shouldn't like to have them meet," he replied. 
 
 Why not ?" 
 
 " That's a queer question, to come from you." 
 
 Hobbs looked up sharply from the chess board. 
 
 " You've done everything you could to prepare 
 her for him," he said, vehemently. " Getting a little 
 doubtful of your own work, are you ?" 
 
 "I'm afraid Roland is not good enough for her," 
 replied Linnette, deliberately. 
 
 Hobbs snorted in disgust.
 
 PLATING A GAME OF CHEB8. 119 
 
 " Good enough !" he echoed. " He's good enough 
 to be your brother's son, that's all you need to know. 
 I call him a very decent young fellow. What's the 
 matter with him ? It's no crime that he doesn't want 
 to buckle down to business. Every other generation 
 has a right to take a lay-off, if it can. And if it's 
 anyone's fault, it's more yours than his. You en- 
 couraged him to keep up his long journey. You 
 know why you did it, too." 
 
 There was something in this statement, and in the 
 manner of its delivery, that made Mr. Linnette for- 
 get the game he was playing. 
 
 " Why did I do it ?" he demanded, pettishly. " You 
 seem to ascribe reasons of your own to everything 
 lately." 
 
 Hobbs pointed out the fact that his opponent in 
 the game had not taken a pawn that fell to his 
 share, and then made his next move adroitly. 
 
 " I've a good mind to tell you why," he said, re- 
 moving the pipe from his mouth. " By Godfrey, 
 Will Linnette, you'll need a guardian, if you keep 
 on ! Roland ' not good enough ' for her, indeed. 
 Isn't a man's flesh and blood of as much account as 
 the children of his hired help ?" 
 
 Mr. Linnette controlled himself with an effort. 
 
 "Never mind, he's going away in a few days," he 
 said. " You didn't used to be so favorable to a 
 match between them," he added, pointedly. 
 
 " No, nor I don't favor it now !" snapped Hobbs. 
 " It's only when you talk as if the ' goodness' was all 
 on one side as if that housekeeper's girl would have 
 to stoop to marry your nephew that you stir me
 
 190 LOVE AT BEVENTY. 
 
 up. I told you, when she and her mother came here, 
 that they'd get around you till you wouldn't know 
 whether your soul was your own. And now, look 
 at it. Roland comes home and is sent to the hotel, 
 while this child, no relation to you whatever, gets 
 the cream of the mansion. I tell you, Will Linnette* 
 you ought to be ashamed !" 
 
 The other player made a very ill-advised move 
 that immediately resulted to his disadvantage. 
 
 "You say a good many things when you get to 
 talking," he answered. " You never heard anything 
 against Eva." 
 
 Hobbs laughed ironically. 
 
 "You've taken fine pains to keep her shut up," he 
 replied. " She hasn't been allowed to go outside 
 the gates without some one at her heels. Do you 
 know what is certain to follow that kind of treat- 
 ment ? If she gets a husband who gives her the 
 least freedom, she will be the prey of any man who 
 wants her. Why " 
 
 The proprietor of the house rose from the table 
 and spoke in a stern voice. 
 
 " That will do, Tom Hobbs. You can't talk that 
 way to me !" 
 
 The superintendent of the Montvale Optical Com- 
 pany did not seem in the least disturbed. He 
 merely said, " Knight takes pawn 6," and waited for 
 his antagonist to go on with the game. 
 
 " No, I will not play !" exclaimed Mr. Linnette. 
 ** There are bounds that you have no right to pass. 
 You have hated my housekeeper and her child ever
 
 PLAYING A GAME OF CHESS. 191 
 
 since they came here, for no better reason than the 
 contrary spirit that's in you. Now, when it gets to 
 making insinuations like the one you just uttered, 
 it's got to stop. Do you hear me, Tom Hobbs ?" 
 
 The superintendent affected to be engrossed in 
 the condition of the chess-men, and his employer 
 repeated the inquiry. 
 
 " Do you hear me, Tom Hobbs ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, I hear you," responded the other. " But 
 whenever I think I have a duty to perform I shall 
 speak out. You will talk till you're grayer than you 
 are now before you put a chain on my tongue, when 
 I see people bamboozling you as these Warreras are 
 doing." 
 
 Mr. Linnette was in doubt what to say next. 
 However unpleasant the words of his old friend, he 
 knew the motive that prompted them was devotion 
 to his interests, as Hobbs understood them. 
 
 "Tell me one thing," he said. "You spoke just 
 now about my keeping Roland abroad, and said you 
 had a good mind to tell me why I did it. I want 
 you to explain what you meant by that." 
 
 "You don't want anything of the kind !" was the 
 ungracious reply. " Come, sit down and make your 
 moves. At this rate we shall be here all night." 
 
 " I tell you I do want it !" retorted Linnette, almost 
 angry. " If you have anything to say to me, let it 
 out. Anything is better than your everlasting 
 hints." 
 
 Hobbs realized that it would create no ordinary 
 commotion if he revealed what he had in mind when 
 he made use of the terms referred to, but his dogged-
 
 122 LOTE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 ness was not proof against this demand. He pushed 
 the table away from him, knowing there would be 
 no more chess playing that evening, and after draw- 
 ing two or three long puffs from his pipe, he took 
 the article from his mouth. 
 
 " You're an old fool, Will Linnette," said he. 
 "You'll tell me I'm wrong, but I know you better 
 than you know yourself, and I've been watching this 
 thing for a long time. Why didn't you want your 
 nephew at home ? Why did you keep him away 
 from your house when he came to Montvale ? The 
 reason is not a very creditable one to a man who 
 has seen almost seventy winters, and has a business 
 reputation as a fellow of common sense, but it's the 
 real one. You're in love with that little girl, 
 yourself !" 
 
 For several seconds Willard Linnette looked as if 
 he was going to strike the author of this bold declar- 
 ation. He raised his arm and clenched his fist, 
 while a terrible expression convulsed his counten- 
 ance. Hobbs more than half expected that the blow 
 would fall, but his sturdy character would neither 
 have allowed him to retreat nor to make any effort 
 to parry the stroke. Then a sudden change came 
 across the face of the optician, and staggering to 
 the chair he had vacated he dropped weakly into 
 it. 
 
 "Perhaps you haven't gauged the extent of your 
 own feelings," pursued Hobbs, as his employer gave 
 no sign of replying in words to his accusation. 
 " But it's as I tell you, as sure as you're alive. To 
 put it plainly, you were afraid that young chap
 
 PLATING A GAME OF CHESS. 123 
 
 would excite sentiments in her heart that would 
 lessen her affection for you, and you're seventy, and 
 she's eighteen ! Her grandfather, if he were living, 
 might be about your age. I know how it is 
 you've lived a solitary life, and she has twined her- 
 self around you, little by little, until you don't 
 understand your own mind." 
 
 The seated figure made a clutch at the air, as if to 
 save itself from falling. 
 
 " It's not true !" murmured Linnette, hoarsely. 
 '* I love her as a daughter no more. It's not true, 
 Tom ; no, I swear to you it's not !" 
 
 Hobbs had no idea of relenting in the least. 
 
 " Why don't you invite him here, then ?" he 
 queried. " It's not my notion of the way to dispose 
 of him, mind you, but you've shown in a hundred 
 ways that it is yours. Why don't you have him 
 up here, and let them get acquainted, and watch the 
 result?" 
 
 Mr. Linnette roused himself slowly, like one who 
 feels the first effects of a painful injury. 
 
 " There are reasons enough," he answered, faintly. 
 " Eva is not well, to begin with. The doctors say 
 she must avoid every species of excitement. But 
 there are other things, which I have disliked to 
 mention to you, because Roland is my near relation. 
 He hasn't the kind of character I could wish. His 
 experiences have given him a light opinion of 
 women. I sent him to the hotel till I could ascer- 
 tain if he was fit to associate with this white flower 
 that I have watched so tenderly, and from what I 
 learn I fear he is not."
 
 124 LOVE AT SBVEBTTT. 
 
 These words came with difficulty, and there were 
 many pauses between the sentences. Hobbs had a 
 sneer in his voice and on his face as he replied : 
 
 "What the devil did you learn?" 
 
 " I'll tell you. I told Hanson to keep an eye on 
 him and to report everything that he saw. It seem* 
 there was a very pretty servant there, upon whom 
 my nephew cast his eyes. He immediately demanded 
 that she should wait on no one but him, and has 
 taken his meals in his own apartment, with her for 
 his companion. His every act showed that he was 
 quietly meditating her ruin. Then a Miss Giddings, 
 who assists in the house, found an immense collection 
 of female photographs in his bureau, some of them 
 dressed in costumes which prove the depravity of 
 his taste. Knowing these things, how could I 
 introduce him to such a child as Eva ?" 
 
 Tom Hobbs had risen and stood leaning against 
 the mantel, with his hands in his trousers' pockets. 
 
 " Hanson is an ass of the first water !" was his 
 snappish comment. " That Giddings is a scarecrow, 
 who was probably driven to inventing lies on account 
 of jealousy because Roland very properly preferred 
 that the prettier girl should attend him. Goodness, 
 Will Linnette, I never should have thought such 
 things of you ! Sending the boy to that confounded 
 hole, and then putting such a set of spies on him ! 
 Well, what's the worst they found, believing all they 
 tell you ? A few pictures of youth and beauty that 
 the lad would have to be blind not to like, and a con- 
 versation with a waitress over his chops and coffee 1
 
 PLATING A GAME OF CHESS. 125 
 
 That's all, isn't it ? They don't accuse him of actu- 
 ally doing any harm to the girl ?" 
 
 Mr. Linnette was very haggard. The discussion 
 was wearing heavily upon him. 
 
 "She's been sent away," he said. " Hanson had a 
 talk with her and gave her some money to take the 
 journey." 
 
 The superintendent's lip curled in scorn. 
 
 " Where has she gone ?" he asked. 
 
 *' I don't know." 
 
 "So," cried Hobbs, with a rising inflection, "to 
 save her from a fancied danger you've sent her where 
 she'll be almost sure to run into a raz/one ! You're 
 a very moral man, jvv are ! If any harm happens to 
 that girl the blame will belong at your door. How 
 do you know but he meant to marry her?" 
 
 Mr. Linnette looked incredulously at his ques- 
 tioner. 
 
 " She has neither property nor family." 
 
 " Has your housekeeper's daughter either of those 
 qualifications ?" 
 
 The maker of instruments paid no attention to the 
 sarcasm in this remark. 
 
 " Roland has not evinced the least interest in her 
 fate," he answered. " That disposes of your suppo- 
 sition in one word." 
 
 " It also disposes of yours," smiled Hobbs, iron- 
 ically. " If he was so desperately set on her ruin, he 
 would not let her escape him so easily." 
 
 There was something in this, certainly, that Mr. 
 Linnette had not thought of, but he replied that 
 probably the nephew had found victims too plea-
 
 LOTE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 tiful to feel the need of pursuing one in the man- 
 ner indicated. 
 
 "Anything to fan your dislike," said Hobbs. 
 " Where that boy is concerned you hare no leaning 
 toward the merciful. For the past three years, 
 through your neglect, he has had no tutor but him- 
 self. If he has found amusement in looking into the 
 eyes of a pretty woman, now and then, is it any- 
 thing for which he should be hanged, drawn and 
 quartered ?" 
 
 Mr. Linnette was silent. He seemed too exhausted 
 to debate the subject any longer. 
 
 "You say the housekeeper's girl is not well," con- 
 tinued Hobbs. " I shouldn't think she would be. 
 You'd be an invalid yourself if you were fastened up 
 as she is. There's nothing in the world the matter 
 with her except a lack of something to interest her 
 mind. Bring your nephew up here, and you'll see a 
 difference from the start. Keep your eye on them, 
 if you think they need it set the whole household 
 to spying, as you did Hanson's precious crowd. 
 But, for God's sake, don't steel your heart against 
 one of the best boys that ever wore shoes, a young 
 fellow you ought to be prouder of than anything 
 else you own !" 
 
 The lamp in the room gas was not one of the 
 luxuries of Montvale at that period had been 
 gradually flickering, and had at last gone out. The 
 moon was full, however, and its beams furnished 
 sufficient light. Mr. Linnette showed his caller 
 through the outer gate of the premises, and parted 
 from him there without another word.
 
 "THIS ONE I MET Ilf TRIESTE." 127 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " THIS ONE I MET IN TRIESTE. " 
 
 As it was apparent that Mr. Linnette, Jr., would 
 probably be in New York before a great while, for 
 either a longer or shorter period, he consulted with 
 Rufus Hobbs, the cashier, as to the feasibility of 
 getting young Dalton transferred from Montvale to 
 the principal office of the concern at the metropolis. 
 Rufus, who had never grown any fonder of the 
 young fellow, and who would have sent him flying 
 without hesitation had he had his way, was glad 
 enough to make any arrangement which would 
 relieve him from his presence. Correspondence with 
 the main office soon resulted in the manner desired. 
 Guy came to the hotel one evening positively radi- 
 ant with joy and told his friend of his good fortune. 
 
 " It is better than anything I had dreamed of," he 
 cried. " And as you are so soon to be there we shall 
 not be entirely separated after all." 
 
 "You must have very uninteresting dreams," was 
 the response, " if you see anything attractive in a 
 seat on a high stool, with a pen in your hand, figur- 
 ing up somebody else's profits out of your labor. 
 What salary are they to pay you ?" 
 
 " Twelve dollars a week, to begin with, and more 
 Jn a short time if i give satisfaction. Is it not 
 generous ?" . .-
 
 128 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 " Noble," laughed Roland. " In fact, I should say 
 magnificent ! On that sum you'll be able to live 
 like a prince. Over on Tenth Avenue there are 
 places where you can get an attic bedroom and 
 something they call food for seven dollars, which 
 will leave you five to squander on clothing, amuse- 
 ments, and other unnecessary trifles." 
 
 Guy declined to be disconcerted by the tone his 
 friend assumed. 
 
 " I shall do very well," he said, positively. " I 
 know all about attic bedrooms and ordinary fare, 
 for I have tried them before. I suppose those places 
 you speak of those on Tenth Avenue are perfectly 
 respectable ?" 
 
 " Indeed they are !" was the humorous reply. 
 " They don't throw in much sin at that price in 
 New York. That comes extra, like coffee in Paris. 
 You will find out. It takes the country boy, the one 
 with high purposes and great ambitions, to sound 
 the depths of a large city. If I should be a month 
 behind you, you will be able to take me anywhere. 
 Ah, Guy, what an awful bad lot you are !" 
 
 For a moment the younger man looked troubled, 
 but the prospect before him was too bright for a 
 cloud to remain long on his face. 
 
 " You will probably discover, before you have been 
 long in the office," pursued Roland, encouragingly, 
 " that you are receiving a few dollars less each week 
 than other clerks who are doing the same kind of 
 work. Of course you will not mind that. You may 
 be giving more faithful service, may be more prompt 
 at your desk in the morning, and less anxious to
 
 **THI8 ONE I MET IN TRIESTE." 129 
 
 leave at night, and yet get half that they do. A 
 little matter like this would never breed discontent 
 in such a head as yours. No, I think it would rather 
 please you than otherwise." 
 
 Dalton replied brightly that he should not con- 
 sider it his affair what the others got. He should do 
 his own work as well as he could and let the rest 
 take care of themselves. 
 
 " Just what I said," replied his irrepressible friend. 
 "Do that, and according to all the story books they 
 give boys to read you will succeed marvellously. 
 You start without a single bad habit. You do not 
 drink anything intoxicating, I believe, not even a 
 goblet of wine." He lifted a decanter as he spoke, 
 and filled a glass with sherry, which he put to his 
 lips. " That is an excellent thing. (I mean the 
 principle, not this sherry.) You do not use tobacco 
 in any form " he took up a cigar, and contempla- 
 tively bit off the end "which is also to be com- 
 mended. I do not see how anyone except myself, 
 of course, can be so foolish as to clog their brains 
 with the vile fumes of that pernicious weed." He 
 lit the cigar. "Tobacco (puff) is undoubtedly a 
 curse (puff) which should be prohibited by statute. 
 Our ancestors drank wine and smoked (puff) and we 
 show the debasing results of their habit. If we 
 should quit both of these villainous things (puff, 
 puff), our descendants might possibly look as beauti- 
 ful as those of our modern temperance spouters." 
 
 He held the cigar contemplatively in his hand, as 
 he finished the sentence. 
 
 44 But the greatest reason why I have such complete
 
 130 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 confidence in you," continued Roland, after blowing 
 a vast quantity of smoke in rings to the ceiling, " is 
 on account of your exceedingly correct views in 
 relation to the sexes. You must know I was joking 
 a few minutes ago, when I intimated that a residence 
 in New York might undermine the most beautiful 
 trait in your composition. It is my conviction that 
 you will be absolutely impervious to temptation 
 which endears you to me with such especial tender- 
 ness." 
 
 Rising from the chair in which he was sitting, the 
 speaker proceeded to take a collection of photo- 
 graphs from his trunk. 
 
 " Here are some of the women that made my life 
 endurable on my foreign journeys. How can I look 
 on their countenances now but with melancholy ? 
 From every one is reflected the accusing glance, the 
 questioning eyelid, the trembling mouth. Be thank- 
 ful, my dear boy, that you will never have on your 
 heart the heavy load these pictures place on mine." 
 
 It was impossible to tell how much seriousness and 
 how much irony there was in these expressions. Guy 
 could not help a natural curiosity which led him to 
 examine the collection. 
 
 " This one I met in Trieste," said Roland, taking 
 one of the loveliest from the group. " You could not 
 imagine a prettier creature. I was in. the bloom of 
 my youth then and she was hardly sixteen. You 
 know the women ripen earlier there than here. How 
 well I remember the last hours I passed with her ! 
 We drove to a resort in the outskirts, where we had 
 supper. She took rather more than I should have
 
 "THIS ONE I MET IN TRIESTE." 181 
 
 advised of the warm, rich wine of the country. As we 
 rode back in the early morning hours she lay in a half 
 stupor with her fair head in my lap. At the rear 
 entrance to her father's house a faithful old duenna 
 was awaiting us with some alarm, for Papa would 
 have made it unpleasant for all concerned had he 
 detected us. Just before we reached her home I 
 aroused her from sleep, and twining those arms 
 those bare arms you see there around my neck, she 
 vowed that nothing should ever tear us apart. As I 
 had planned to go away on the early morning train 
 I could not very well coincide with this view. It 
 required all my powers of persuasion to induce hef 
 to enter her abode a temporary expedient " 
 
 " Promising to return ?" interpolated the anxious 
 listener. 
 
 " I think likely, but" 
 
 " Oh, how could you be so cruel !" cried Guy. 
 " Or, having done it, how can you have the heart to 
 tell me ?" 
 
 Roland feigned surprise. 
 
 " I think I acted quite praiseworthily," he replied. 
 " Would you prefer that I should continue taking a 
 young girl on such excursions, with no chance what- 
 ever that good would result ? I thought my sudden 
 departure quite creditable, all things considered. 
 But, as far as escaping temptation is concerned, I 
 might as well have remained, for I had not been a 
 week in Italy when I met this one." 
 
 He took the picture of a dark-eyed beauty from 
 the pack, and held it up where he could study its 
 exquisite outlines.
 
 132 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 " I shall not tell you her story," he said, " because 
 you are such an unappreciative listener. It was much 
 more romantic than the other. Poor Alma 
 
 He was interrupted by an exclamation from Guy, 
 who took another picture from the collection and 
 held it up to his gaze. 
 
 " Here is one that should not be put in such com- 
 pany !" he said, with feeling. 
 
 It was a photograph of Maud Arline. Roland had 
 placed it ingeniously with the others, in order to 
 note its effect on his companion, 
 
 " I am glad you found that," said he, nonchal- 
 antly, " for I want you to take it with you. It is 
 quite likely you will run across her in New York 
 such girls often gravitate toward the large cities 
 and you might need it to make the identification 
 positive." 
 
 " Do you think I could forget her ?" asked the 
 other, incredulously. 
 
 " Such things have happened. However, if you 
 don't care for the picture, you may leave it." 
 
 But Dalton had already placed the photograph in 
 his pocket, ignoring the outstretched hand. Roland 
 laughed roguishly, and turned the conversation into 
 other channels. 
 
 " I shall not stay much longer at Montvale," he 
 said. " You will find me in New York before many 
 weeks." 
 
 " You must be anxious to see your father," sug- 
 gested Guy. 
 
 " Oh, very I" was the satirical response. " Just 
 about as anxious as he is to see me. If I were a
 
 a THIS ONE I MET IN TKIESTE." 1S3 
 
 book of poems, or an essay written by some famous 
 man himself, for example I might interest him. 
 Being only a son, however, makes it quite a different 
 matter. He has only one redeeming quality in my 
 eyes. He is picturesque." 
 
 Guy looked disappointed, not to say shocked, at 
 this statement. 
 
 " It is the truth. He once sat as a model for a 
 painting of Benevolence. Benignity shines from 
 every muscle of his placid countenance. His very 
 beard is a study of grace and generosity. And yet 
 I know that no distress could be so deep and no 
 agony so excruciating as to stir his calm eyes. He 
 writes the most exquisite articles upon philanthropy, 
 and if he had a million loaves of bread he would not 
 give a crust to a blind beggar. But like yourself, 
 my dear Guy, he is unquestionably picturesque, and 
 to that extent worth calling upon occasionally." 
 
 As Roland paused, his companion said, reproach- 
 fully : 
 
 " Still, he is your father," 
 
 "Yes, unhappily. But I would rather own for my 
 progenitor a half-clad tramp who did not know where 
 to lay his head or to find his next meal, than such a 
 well-kept, finely carved block of senseless marble." 
 
 There was moisture in Guy Dalton's eyes as the 
 two friends waited at the railway station the next 
 day. Roland was affected even while he laughed 
 and said that tears were only for women. 
 
 " And that reminds me," he added, feeling the 
 need of raising his spirits by a witticism, " I want you 
 to be sure to avoid everything that wears petticoats,
 
 134 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 for therein lieth a snare. Of course, should you 
 happen to run across Maud, you will try to ascertain 
 why she left here so suddenly. Tell her I thought it 
 very shabby, after all the pleasant hours we spent 
 together. Tell her" 
 
 But the train was starting. Guy wrung his com- 
 panion's hand so sharply that he bruised it, and 
 with a hasty *'- Good-by" left him alone.
 
 CAUGHT IN THB ACT. 135 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 CAUGHT IN THE ACT. 
 
 For various reasons nearly a fortnight elapsed 
 after the meeting which Roland Linnette had with 
 Eva Warren in his uncle's library before he accepted 
 her invitation to enter the grounds surreptitiously 
 late at night. She had not been as well as usual, for 
 one thing, and her mother had remained with her a 
 good deal. The impatient lover was obliged to 
 content himself with the daily missives that Char- 
 lotte contrived to smuggle to him, and he thought 
 Montvale duller than ever, during the days after 
 Dalton's departure. At last, however, a time was set 
 for the long-delayed meeting. He was to wait near 
 the wall door at the rear of the mansion until after 
 Eva had seen Mr. Linnette's light extinguished and 
 was sure Tom Hobbs had finished his game of chess 
 and gone home. 
 
 The habits of the household, as the girl knew from 
 experience, were very clock-like. Mr. Linnette 
 seldom remained long out of bed after the departure 
 of his regular visitor. Having allowed a half hour 
 from the time she saw the light put out Eva sent 
 Charlotte to find the anxious watcher. 
 
 All the innumerable adventures which the young 
 man had experienced seemed to pale into insignifi- 
 cance in comparison with this one. He had climbed
 
 1J6 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 by a grapevine to the window of a wealthy beauty 
 in Sicily ; had been smuggled disguised into the 
 seraglio of a great official of Constantinople ; had 
 barely escaped with his life from an avenging hus- 
 band in Japan ; but this escapade possessed a 
 strangeness equalled by none of the others. To be 
 prowling around the walls that had enclosed his 
 head in boyhood walls destined to be his own in the 
 course of time ; to creep like a burglar across these 
 well-known walks and into this familiar house ; to 
 meet in this manner this paragon of innocence ! 
 
 When Roland stepped into the room where Miss 
 Eva was waiting, his heart knocked so loudly against 
 his ribs that he could almost hear it. 
 
 " Well, I am here," he said, in a low voice, tuned 
 to the most musical accents of which he was master. 
 
 Upon conducting him to her mistress the maid 
 had retreated into the hallway, closing but not latch- 
 ing the door behind her. No sooner had she disap- 
 peared than Roland, overcome with joy, stretched 
 out his arms to Eva. 
 
 " My darling," he cried, in tones of the deepest 
 passion, " will you now refuse me that kiss which I 
 have waited for so long ?" 
 
 The young girl seemed quite composed, making a 
 marked contrast to his impetuosity. 
 
 " You must have forgotten what I told you," uhe 
 replied, gently. 
 
 He caught both her hands in his. 
 
 " That you would only kiss the man who 1 % be 
 your husband ? Behold him !" 
 
 She hesitated still, regarding him intently
 
 0AUGHT IN THB ACT. 137 
 
 -Do you swear that ?" she asked. " Do you swear 
 that I shall be your wife ?" 
 
 Only a minute before this, the young man had 
 been firm in his resolution not to say anything to 
 commit himself. The dependence that he had upon 
 his uncle was so absolute that he had meant to be 
 circumspect in his words, however careless his con- 
 duct might appear. But he was intoxicated with 
 the sweetness of the creature before him, and to 
 save his life he could not have made her a different 
 reply. 
 
 "With all my soul !" he answered, earnestly. 
 
 Eva waited no longer, but permitted him to clasp 
 her in his arms and press a kiss upon her lips. 
 
 " Have you thought how we are to arrange it ?" 
 she said, as Soon as she could escape from his 
 caresses. 
 
 To arrange it ! Her thoughts were not to be 
 turned even for a moment from the subject of 
 marriage. 
 
 " That will be all right in time," he responded, 
 after a slight pause. " For the present is it not 
 wisest to take the happiness that comes to us and 
 leave all difficult problems for the future? Such 
 meetings as this ought to be devoted to the de- 
 liciousness of love, not passed in sober calculations 
 how to escape the happiest period of life." 
 
 She looked slightly troubled. 
 
 "And does the ' deliciousness of love' end with 
 matrimony ?" she asked, in her ingenuous way. 
 
 "Why, no," he replied, confused for the moment. 
 44 But lovers usually like to prolong, as much as pos-
 
 138 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 sible, that delightful time when they have become all 
 in all to each other, and yet are unbound by legal 
 ties. In our case there are a hundred barriers to 
 marriage, which must all be broken down ; to our 
 love there was but one, and that Charlotte and her 
 keys has easily opened." 
 
 Eva showed the greatest interest in every word he 
 said. 
 
 " Are there really so many barriers to our mar- 
 riage ?" she asked. "Tell me what they are." 
 
 "Well, the two greatest, perhaps, are my uncle 
 and your mother." 
 
 She brightened at this, for she had feared that his 
 answer would reveal some terrible obstacle of whose 
 existence she had been unaware. 
 
 " Those barriers are easily surmounted," she smiled. 
 "My mother would not stand in the way of any- 
 thing I insisted upon. And as for your uncle, he 
 has no legal control over my actions." 
 
 Roland wished that she would not be so precise 
 and positive. He blushed as he felt that he could 
 not explain his own situation without laying himself 
 open to the charge of selfishness. 
 
 "My uncle could refuse to do anything more for 
 me in a pecuniary way, which, to say the least, would 
 be embarrassing." 
 
 The girl knit her brows and relapsed into thought. 
 
 " You could earn a living, could you not, without 
 his aid ? I supposed any man of education and 
 talent could do that. We shall not need much, and 
 I will gladly do all I can to help you." 
 
 She looked so infantile, as she uttered these
 
 CAUGHT IN THE ACT. 
 
 words, that Roland could not help embracing her 
 again. 
 
 " I wish, with all my heart," he replied, and he 
 had never spoken more earnestly, " that I had been 
 brought up to do something useful. To tell the 
 truth, Eva, I have no idea how I could turn my 
 slight talents into bread. If all else fails, my dear, 
 I will make a hercfulean effort to convince the world 
 that I am a much-needed individual, for whom it 
 has long felt a keen desire. It would be much better, 
 though, if we could convince my respected relation 
 that he ought to give us his blessing." 
 
 As Eva clasped her hands behind her head and 
 leaned back in the arm-chair she made a very pretty 
 picture. 
 
 " I am not so sure he wont" she said. " He seems 
 to care very much for me. If I tell him I love you 
 and wish to be your wife, I think he will want me to 
 be happy." 
 
 She was so hopeful that Roland did not like to 
 disturb her serenity, though he had little faith in her 
 conclusions. 
 
 " I sincerely trust you are right," he answered. 
 " For, if he does not, if he positively opposes us, we 
 shall have to wait." 
 
 A pout altered the expression of her pretty 
 mouth. 
 
 "To wait!" she repeated, dismally. "How 
 long ?" 
 
 Roland kissed her again, thinking her more 
 bewitching than ever. 
 
 " We must be sensible," he said. " Is it not better
 
 140 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 to let a little time go by, during which he mk^, j 
 induced to relent ?" 
 
 The girl did not take kindly to this suggestion. 
 
 <( You don't know how tired I am of my humdrum 
 existence," she said, wearily. " Oh, I want so much 
 to get out, to go where I can see the world ! If 
 they keep me shut up much longer I shall never 
 live to be your wife." 
 
 The conversation progressed along the same lines 
 for another hour, but nothing definite was reached. 
 He could not make her understand why he was so 
 cautious. Her ideas of love had been obtained 
 entirely from certain old-fashioned novels that she 
 had found in the big collection downstairs. In those 
 romances the ardent swains dared everything to 
 possess their sweethearts, and the recalcitrant 
 parents and uncles invariably relented in time to 
 make everything lovely at the close, 
 
 Before Charlotte came to let him out, it was 
 understood that he would come again within a few 
 days, and that in the meantime the lovers would 
 exchange letters regularly. 
 
 With the most joyous feelings that he had known 
 for many months, Roland set out to return to the 
 Montvale House. He had only gone a short dis- 
 tance, however, when a most unexpected and unwel- 
 come f0rm confronted him in the highway. 
 
 For a few moments neither the uncle nor the 
 nephew uttered a word. Roland saw that his even- 
 ing's exploit was known, and from the set expression 
 on Mr. Linnette's face realized that he had little 
 cause to hope for mercy.
 
 CAUGHT IH THB ACT. 141 
 
 " I am a straightforward man," came at last in 
 hard tones from the elder gentleman. " I know 
 where you have been. I will listen to no explan- 
 ations, for nothing can palliate your offence. 
 To-morrow you must leave Montvale, and never 
 return to it without my leave. Under no circum- 
 stances must you hold communication with any 
 person dwelling in my house. You rely on me for 
 your income. If you obey me you will continue to 
 receive it as in the past. If you do not " here Mr. 
 Llnnette made a significant pause " you may 
 expect nothing more from me." 
 
 A thousand thoughts rushed to Roland's brain 
 during the delivery of this speech. All that he 
 owed this man ; the kindness shown him from his 
 infancy ; the sweet face and figure he had just left ; 
 the hardships experienced by those who are penniless, 
 as shown in Guy Dalton's case. He did not dare 
 begin an argument with his uncle, in that gentle- 
 man's present state of mind, It was a hard choice, 
 but he must take the safer way. He could do as he 
 was ordered, trusting to the future to right him. 
 
 " I will go, Sir," he said, quietly. 
 
 Mr. Linnette had expected a different answer. He 
 had prepared himself for harsh expressions and 
 recriminations. When he heard his nephew's dutiful 
 reply he could hardly refrain from embracing him 
 and letting forth the torrent of tears that struggled 
 to his eyes. But he restrained himself, and the two 
 men parted without further parley. 
 
 Early the next morning Roland, with all his 
 belongings, took a train for New York.
 
 142 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " NOW, DON'T SAY YOU'RE SORRY !" 
 
 jRoland's feelings, as he rode toward the city, were 
 far from enviable. Every revolution of the wheels 
 under his car was taking him farther and farther 
 from the one he loved best. He believed he cared 
 a great deal for Eva Warren. She had made a most 
 vivid impression upon his ordinarily fickle nature. 
 He had really convinced himself that he was to find 
 with her the true peace of mind and serenity of life 
 that comes from an ideal marriage. She had led him 
 to hope that his uncle would consent to remove the 
 difficulties in their way, under the persuasive elo- 
 quence of her bright eyes and sweet voice. Now 
 everything was changed. He had fallen under the 
 displeasure of a man whose power over his income 
 was as absolute as that of the Czar over his subjects. 
 He had been sent away, with strict directions not to 
 return under the direst penalty. 
 
 When he heard his sentence he accepted it, con- 
 soling himself with the belief that some fortunate 
 circumstance would eventually intervene to save 
 him. He had to admit, however, that there was 
 very little clear sky on his horizon. The offence of 
 which he had been guilty must seem upon the sur- 
 face a heinous one. He had no reason to doubt 
 that the very blackest suspicions were entertained in
 
 "NOW, DON'T SAY YOU'RE SOBBY!" 143 
 
 regard to his conduct. Should this be the case, 
 how unpleasant Eva's situation must be ! It was 
 unlikely that Mr. Linnette would take any pains to 
 explain matters to her. She would send her letters 
 to the usual place, and when there were no answers, 
 Charlotte would make an investigation, and report 
 that the man who had professed the warmest affec^ 
 tion for her so short a time before, had coolly left the 
 place, without sending a word to explain the reason, 
 or an address to which she could write. 
 
 Oh, it was scandalous ! Even the fear of being 
 disinherited, of losing the immense property which 
 his uncle had accumulated, could hardly dissuade 
 the young man from leaving the train at the first 
 station, and returning, at any risk, to the girl he had 
 deserted. But prudence conquered for the moment, 
 and he decided to continue his journey to New 
 York, where he might confide the whole story to Guy 
 Dalton, and see if together they could find a way to 
 untangle the knot. 
 
 It was on a holiday that he reached the city, and 
 the office of the Montvale Optical Company was 
 closed. As he did not know Guy's house address, 
 he was obliged to wait until the next morning be- 
 fore he could see him. Strolling about at random 
 during the afternoon, he happened to pass through 
 East Ninth Street, where he encountered, as he had 
 often done, an evidence of the fact that this world 
 is a very contracted place. On the sidewalk a little 
 ahead of him was a female figure, whose outlines 
 seemed strangely familiar, and he was not long ia
 
 144 LOTS AT SEVENTY. 
 
 deciding that it belonged to the late waitress of the 
 Montvaie House. 
 
 The pleasure of meeting anyone he knew, com- 
 bined with curiosity as to the sort of life she was 
 now leading, induced him to follow her. Fearing 
 that if he made his presence known too soon she 
 might decline to acquaint him with her place of resi- 
 dence, he lagged in the rear until he saw her enter 
 a dwelling. Three minutes later he rang the bell. 
 The girl who answered his summons directed him to 
 a room up two flights of stairs, leaving him to make 
 his own way to that locality. 
 
 "Now, don't say you're sorry to see me !" he ex- 
 claimed, the expression with which he was received 
 giving rise to this suspicion. " Why, you don't even 
 ask me to enter." 
 
 At this, Maud, who had stood stock still in her sur- 
 prise, moved to one side and allowed rather than 
 invited him to pass in. 
 
 " Let me quiet your fears at once, if you have 
 any," he said, in a sprightly tone. " I found your 
 abode by the purest accident, in fact by seeing you 
 on the street just now, and it seemed only a neigh- 
 borly act to call. I thought you and I were too 
 good friends for such an abrupt leave as you took of 
 me. At Montvaie, which I left yesterday morning, 
 no one seemed to have the slightest notion where 
 you were. But now I shall learn all about it. What 
 are you doing in New York ; and what drove you 
 away in such a hurry ?" 
 
 He glanced hurriedly at the furniture as he spoke.
 
 "NOW, DON'T SA.T TOU'KE SORRY!" 145 
 
 She had not found anything very luxurious, at all 
 
 events. 
 
 4 cloud that had gathered around the girl's eyes 
 deepened at his question. 
 
 " I came away because because I thought it best. 
 And because I believed I could earn my living better 
 here." 
 
 "I hope you have succeeded," he said, kindly. 
 
 " Not yet," she told him, with a sad frankness. " I 
 find there are many others as much in need of work 
 as I. Still, I am not discouraged. I shall keep 
 trying." 
 
 It requires money to live in a city, even in the 
 plainest manner, and Roland began to wonder where 
 she had obtained enough for her wants. He had 
 good reason to believe her purse was empty when 
 she lived in Montvale. 
 
 "You must be well provided with funds to be able 
 to wait so long," he said, boldly. 
 
 " I I had a little," she stammered, much con- 
 fused. "It does not cost much here." 
 
 "But the little it does cost," he said, with sudden 
 conviction, " comes from my uncle. He sent you 
 away for fear I should lower his great name by con- 
 tracting a marriage with you ! His name ! He who 
 has wheeled a barrow in his day, shovelled coal and 
 handled a pickaxe. That's where the money comes 
 from. You do not dare deny it !" 
 
 A tumult raged in the girl's breast as she heard 
 him. A marriage with Roland ! Could such a 
 thing have been, for a moment, in the thoughts of 
 the wealthy manufacturer ? This was not the story
 
 146 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 that Hanson had told her, when he pressed the bank- 
 notes into her hand and asked her to leave on the 
 very next train. He had represented that a scandal 
 was imminent, that their close relations were causing 
 talk, and that she would either have to go in this 
 quiet way, with sufficient funds to relieve her present 
 necessities, or be turned out ignominiously in the 
 face of the village. 
 
 " You do not answer," said Roland. " In this case 
 I shall consider that silence is confession." 
 
 "You confuse me so much that I do not know 
 what to say," she responded. " I never dreamed of 
 meeting you. And you must not call here any 
 more, for really I cannot see you." 
 
 His mind was too full of Eva now to mind much 
 this rather cool dismissal. For, with the words, Miss 
 Arline rose from the chair she had taken, as if to bid 
 him farewell. 
 
 "I shall respect your wish," he replied, with a 
 smile, " though I think you would be wiser to con- 
 fide in me a little. I am not half so great a villain 
 as I have been represented. If my uncle is supply- 
 ing your purse, and if he, from any cause, ceases to 
 do so, and you need anything, my city address is at 
 his office on Third Street. You will be very silly if 
 you don't let me know. And, let me tell you, though 
 it may not seem encouraging, the chances are that 
 you will. I don't suppose you have a relation or 
 acquaintance in town. But," he walked slowly out 
 into the hallway as he talked, " I am overstaying my 
 welcome. I wouldn't care so much if you hadn't got 
 into this scrape on my account," he added.
 
 " NOW, DON'T SAY YOD'BE SORRY !" 14:7 
 
 The girl had a severe struggle with the conflicting 
 ^motions which these expressions brought forth. It 
 was true, as lie surmised, that Mr. Linnette had made 
 a bargain with her, through Hanson, by which he 
 was to send her what money she needed until she 
 could obtain a satisfactory position, in exchange for 
 which she was never to see or speak to his nephew. 
 She had been too overwhelmed at the landlord's 
 accusations, when he made her the proposition, to 
 attempt the least defence, but had followed his sug- 
 gestions blindly, not knowing what else to do. She 
 was practically penniless, and, though Mr. Linnette's 
 money almost burned her fingers, she dared not 
 decline it. Her main thought was to get away as 
 quickly as possible, away from Montvale, away from 
 Roland, away from all those people to whom she had 
 become, as was represented to her, an object of 
 distrust. 
 
 By some mysterious fate the person she had prom- 
 ised to avoid had found her in this large city, on the 
 very day of his arrival, and without effort on his 
 part. The short interview she had had with him 
 could not be construed as a violation of her word to 
 Mr. Hanson. But, should she have given such a 
 promise ? 
 
 "I will keep your card," she said, while he won- 
 dered why it took her so long to answer. 
 
 " By-the-way," said Roland, as he was turning 
 from her, " our friend, Guy Dalton, is here, in my 
 uncle's office. Is he in your bad books as well as I ? 
 If he isn't, and you happen to run across him, it will
 
 148 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 be a charity to give him a kind word. He always 
 seemed to like you." 
 
 Then he went out upon the street and walked to 
 his hotel. The next morning he went at an early 
 hour to find Guy, and arrange a lunch together at 
 one o'clock. 
 
 " How happens it that you are here without giv- 
 ing me the least warning?" asked Dalton as soon as 
 he could control his delight. 
 
 " Oh, the devil is in it !" was the response. " I've 
 had a set-to with my respected uncle." 
 
 " Not a falling out !" cried Guy, with distended 
 eyes. 
 
 " Something mighty like it. I'll tell you every- 
 thing at noon." 
 
 And at noon he did tell him everything. He re- 
 lated the whole Warren episode, from beginning to 
 end, concealing nothing. 
 
 " Isn't it a fine kettle of fish ?" he said, at the con- 
 clusion. " I'm in a condition of mind to kill some- 
 body. And poor little Eva, she must by this time 
 have voted me the crudest and most inconstant man. 
 If I wanted to mail her a letter, at the risk of my 
 uncle's wrath, there is not one chance in a hundred 
 it would ever reach her. Spies are undoubtedly on 
 the watch, ready to intercept anything addressed to 
 her name. Come, old man, tell me what to do. You 
 ought to have an idea in that head of yours." 
 
 Guy was much affected by this recitation of his 
 friend's misfortune. He counselled patience, ex- 
 pressing the belief that Mr. Linnette would not long 
 hold himself in such an attitude toward his nephew.
 
 "NOW, DON'T SAY YOU'RB SOBKY!" 149 
 
 To violate the quarantine regulations at present 
 would be merely to invite ruin. Nor was it wise, he 
 added, timidly, to underrate the financial considera- 
 tions. As long as the uncle held the purse-strings, 
 he could control Roland's conduct as readily as a 
 pilot could handle a boat through the tiller. 
 
 " But you don't realize what a burning affection I 
 have developed for that dear girl !" cried Roland, 
 comically. " I have been in love with a thousand 
 women and never really had my heart on fire till 
 now." 
 
 " I am afraid you never loved any of them," was 
 the sober reply. " It is not so very long ago that 
 you seemed wholly wrapped up in another young 
 lady." 
 
 A loud laugh greeted this statement. 
 
 " What, the pretty little Maud ?" he replied. " She 
 did entertain me, in that frightfully dull Montvale, 
 but* I don't think I ever meant anything serious. 
 Even if I had I could not but see how little chance 
 there was for me after she caught sight of you. 
 And that reminds me that you must run over and 
 call on her. She lives but a few minutes' walk from 
 here and would welcome you warmly." 
 
 " Miss Arline !" cried Dalton, rising from his chair. 
 " She is here, in New York !" 
 
 " Exactly," smiled Roland. " I will cheerfully 
 give you her address." 
 
 The younger man drew several long breaths, which 
 he emitted slowly. He was evidently much surprised 
 by the news. 
 
 " I do not understand," he stammered. " You say
 
 150 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 you love Miss Warren. Then why have you St.. 
 Miss Arline here ?" 
 
 It was some seconds before Linnette could grasp 
 the full meaning of this question. 
 
 " You are wrong in your brilliant surmise," he 
 answered. " Miss Maud is the victim of another 
 ridiculous move on the part of my venerated kins- 
 man. He had her sent away from the hotel on 
 account of a silly notion in relation to me. I learned 
 of her residence only yesterday afternoon, and then 
 quite accidentally. Oh, I give you my word ! She 
 is of no use to me now, and I shall take great pleas- 
 ure in passing over to you all my right, title and 
 interest." 
 
 Dalton shrank from these careless expressions as if 
 they were so many blows upon his shoulders. 
 
 " Don't speak like that !" he pleaded. " It hurts 
 me." 
 
 " Does it, really ?" asked Roland, looking at his 
 companion in a puzzled way. "Then I am right, 
 and you are not entirely indifferent to the girl. You 
 see, I saw Maud in the street and followed her home 
 without letting her know she was watched. When I 
 called at her room she treated me with the coldest 
 civility, and even had the supreme impertinence to 
 remark, as I was going away, that she did not care to 
 see me again. Of course I lay all that to the lies 
 or possibly to the truths that Hanson had been 
 hired to tell her about me. Whatever the reason, 
 my mind is now too full of my newest inamorata to 
 let me shed many tears. As I am barred from 
 Maud's society, and as she is entirely alone in the
 
 " NOW, DON'T SAT YOU'RE SORRY !" 151 
 
 city, I know she would be delighted to see you often. 
 And although I don't think I am much to blame for 
 her present situation, I would like to hear from her 
 occasionally, and even render her assistance if she 
 ever needs it." 
 
 Guy made a number of inquiries in relation to 
 Miss Arline which his friend could not answer posi- 
 tively. All he knew was that she meant to secure a 
 position of some kind by which she could earn her 
 living, and he had no doubt that Willard Linnette 
 was supplying her temporary wants. 
 
 When the friends separated, Guy had in his pos- 
 session the number of the house on Ninth Street, 
 and that very evening he called there. Maud did 
 not conceal her pleasure at the sight of his face, and 
 gave him a very different reception from the one 
 Roland found. Before an hour had passed the last 
 vestige of nervousness had disappeared from both of 
 them, and they chatted confidentially. Guy told 
 how pleased he was with his place in the Optical 
 Company's office, where he had been promised, with- 
 out any solicitation on his part, a rise in salary at 
 fche end of six months' service. And Maud had that 
 very day made an engagement with a milliner, which 
 would give her almost enough to live on in the 
 economical fashion she was practising. 
 
 Though intensely anxious to learn the exact con- 
 nection of the elder Linnette with her affairs, Guy 
 did not think of questioning her in relation to that 
 matter. He was sure, whatever it was, that it 
 reflected no discredit upon her. When they parted 
 it was with an understanding that he would call
 
 158 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 frequently. The next evening they took a long walk 
 together, and within a week had dined ensemble at a 
 cheap French restaurant, where a dinner was served 
 for forty cents. Several days later they had even 
 viewed a play together from an upper gallery, at a 
 cost of half a dollar. 
 
 As for Roland, he took rooms in a swell bachelor 
 apartment hotel and set about drowning his regrets 
 with the aid of several young gentlemen afflicted, 
 like himself, with too much spare time and endowed 
 with a sufficient quantity of greenbacks. He was 
 not happy, but he could formulate no plan to get 
 out of his difficulties. Theatres, rides in the park, 
 and such light entertainment as was furnished by 
 one or two clubs which he joined, helped to pass the 
 time away. Dalton, whom he generally met at 
 lunch time, still counselled him to have patience, 
 and to do nothing rash. 
 
 " How much patience do you think you'd have, in 
 my place ?" Roland used to answer, exasperated at 
 the long delay.
 
 PWOLB AND NKPHKW. 153 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 UNCLE AND NEPHEW. 
 
 The disappointment felt by Eva Warren when she 
 received no answers to the letters which her maid 
 left for young Mr. Linnette was not over-estimated 
 in the most vivid dreams of the absent one. All that 
 Charlotte could learn, when she made a tour of 
 investigation, was that he had left town on the very 
 morning following their last meeting. The two 
 girls talked it over for hours at a time, but 
 they could not account for the circumstance. Eva 
 felt intuitively that her mother's employer had had 
 something to do with the matter, but she could not 
 ascertain the truth of her suspicions except by 
 direct inquiry, which she was naturally disinclined 
 to make. It was incredible that the ardent lover, 
 who had seemed hardly able to control his fond 
 emotions, should have taken a wilful resolve to 
 desert her. She believed that he would write, at 
 least, explaining every thing. But a fortnight elapsed 
 and nothing was forthcoming. 
 
 Eva was a girl of naturally strong mind, notwith- 
 standing the peculiar moods into which her strange 
 and confined life had led her. She did not give 
 vent to her feelings in tears, nor did she lose courage. 
 When it was apparent that Roland did not intend to 
 explain his conduct by letter, she determined to
 
 154: LOTE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 speak of him to his uncle, the first time she could 
 find the latter alone. All at once, however, such 
 opportunities seemed to have disappeared. The 
 senior Linnette became visible only at meals, and as 
 her mother was always present on those occasions, 
 she did not like to refer to the subject. Evenings 
 Mr. Linnette spent with old Tom Hobbs in the 
 library as formerly. At last she could wait no 
 longer, and one day, at dinner, she abruptly broke 
 the ice. 
 
 " I hear that your nephew has left town," she said. 
 " Isn't it rather strange that he should stay so long 
 in Montvale, and never visit you here ?" 
 
 Mrs. Warren looked up in a startled way. She 
 knew that Roland had been to the house, and that 
 he had talked with Eva there. Mr. Linnette had 
 discovered the fact of their meeting, by a more 
 thorough questioning of Slocum, and had thought 
 it wise to convey the information to the girl's 
 mother, in order to put her on her guard against a 
 possible repetition. But he had not told the lady of 
 the visit Roland made to her daughter's rooms, and 
 he would not for anything have had her learn of 
 it. 
 
 To Eva's remark he answered quietly, having 
 schooled himself to expect something of the kind, 
 that his nephew was master of his own movements, 
 and in the habit of selecting his places of residence. 
 
 "Undoubtedly," responded Eva. "But it does 
 seem odd to me, when I think how fond you used to 
 be of him "
 
 T*CLE AND NEPHEW. 155 
 
 M Used to be?" interrupted Mr. Linnette, without 
 raising his eyes. 
 
 " Used to be," she repeated, with added emphasis. 
 " When I remember that he is the only child of your 
 only brother, that this was his home for many years, 
 that he was gone abroad a very long time, and that 
 on his return you have not had him here once, even 
 to a dinner, and that now he has gone away, I can- 
 not help being very much surprised. Pardon me if 
 I speak too plainly." 
 
 Mr. Linnette's eyes were turned affectionately upon 
 the speaker. 
 
 "I will pardon you almost anything," he said, 
 gently. 
 
 " But, if this is your fault, I will not pardon you" 
 replied the girl, with the freedom she was accus- 
 tomed to use toward him. " Do you know what 
 rumors are abroad ? It is said that / have taken 
 his place here, that I am crowding him out of his 
 rightful position. Such gossip is not pleasant to 
 me, I assure you." 
 
 The manufacturer was evidently much disturbed 
 by this remarkable statement ; while Mrs. Warren 
 fidgeted uneasily on her side of the table, afraid to 
 say anything, but wishing heartily that her daughter 
 would select some other topic for conversation. 
 
 " I do not see how we can keep silly people from 
 talking," replied Mr. Linnette, after a pause. He 
 had been wondering who were the guilty parties, 
 and thinking he would make the village too warm 
 for them, if he could discover their identity. "The 
 public has nothing to do with my private affairs,
 
 156 LOTK AT SEVENTY- 
 
 and I heartily wish it would attend to its own busi- 
 ness." 
 
 He said this in his ordinary tone, but Eva felt that 
 he was very much in earnest. 
 
 . " I have only one thing to say," she remarked. 
 "If. it is true that I am creating a coldness on your 
 part toward any of your relations, I wish to go away 
 at once." 
 
 This was startling enough to make Mrs. Warren 
 drop a plate that she was filling with fruit, while 
 some tea that Mr. Linnette was about to convey to 
 his mouth splashed upon the table cloth. 
 
 " You will compel me," said Mr. Linnette, as soon 
 as he could command his voice, " to say things in 
 reference to my nephew that I had rather keep to 
 myself. If I have not invited him here it is on 
 account of matters I have learned which are not to 
 his credit." 
 
 Mrs. Warren, growing more and more apprehen- 
 sive, touched the foot of her daughter under the 
 table, but the message, though thoroughly under- 
 stood, had no effect. Eva had never been much 
 under her mother's control, and of late years 
 she had acted quite independently of her. She 
 answered the last speaker as boldly as if there were 
 not fifty years difference in their ages. 
 
 " Of course I do not know what you refer to," she 
 said, " but I should think it a poor way to improve 
 him, if he needs it, to send him forth again into the 
 world with no one to advise or direct his course. 
 Had you brought him here, he might have found 
 influences that would have benefited him."
 
 UWCLK AND NEPHEW. 157 
 
 Mr. Linnette could not refrain from looking at 
 Eva with an expression that she could not mistake. 
 She knew instantly that he was aware of the visit that 
 Roland had paid to her room. With this knowledge 
 came the certainty that he had sent his nephew 
 away on account of it. She had learned more than 
 she expected, and not caring to prolong the conver- 
 sation in the presence of her mother, she made no 
 further reference to the matter. 
 
 It being now morally certain that her lover had 
 been forced into the action he had taken, she deter- 
 mined to write to him and assure him of her sym- 
 pathy and continued devotion. The first thing was 
 to ascertain his address. Charlotte, faithful to the 
 utmost, discovered an opinion in the village that 
 Roland was in New York. Eva knew that a letter 
 addressed -to the general delivery in that city would 
 be very unlikely to reach its destination. When she 
 was nearly in despair Charlotte learned another fact, 
 which seemed of more account. She discovered that 
 Roland's friend, Guy Dalton, was now employed at 
 the New York office of the Montvale Optical Com- 
 pany. Eva believed he would be almost certain to 
 know her lover's whereabouts. 
 
 Filled with new hope, Eva wrote Guy a letter 
 without delay, telling him to direct his answer to an 
 assumed name, in care of Charlotte's sister, Mrs. 
 Merrill, who lived in the village of Montvale. Be- 
 lieving that she had entered upon what would prove 
 a solution of the great enigma, Eva was in the 
 highest spirits she had known for weeks. When she
 
 158 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 met Mr. Linnette at table that day she could hardly 
 conceal her gaiety. 
 
 The wily maker of instruments was not, however, 
 to be so easily outwitted as the young girl imagined. 
 The postmaster, who was practically his own 
 appointee, had agreed to let him see all of the mail 
 that left the village. There were only two bags 
 each day, one closing at two o'clock in the afternoon, 
 and the other at nine in the evening. Aside from 
 the letters of the Optical Company the correspon- 
 dence that went through the office was trivial, and it 
 required but a few moments for Mr. Linnette to 
 examine it. He knew that Eva would do her best to 
 learn Roland's address, and he had no intention that 
 she should succeed in communicating with him. 
 
 " Here's a letter that may interest you," said 
 Postmaster Hadlock, on the evening of the day 
 when Eva had suddenly appeared so radiant. 
 
 Linnette took it eagerly in his hand. Yes, it was 
 in Eva's handwriting. It was not addressed to his 
 nephew, however, but to " Guy Dalton, Esq., care 
 Montvale Optical Company, No Third St., New 
 York." 
 
 The name was wholly unfamiliar to him, and he 
 turned in an inquiring manner to the postmaster. 
 
 " Do you 'T^"* this gentleman ?" he asked Mr. 
 Hadlock. 
 
 "Why, yes," was the answer. "He is a young 
 fellow whom your nephew befriended and kept at 
 the hotel here for some time. He was hired finally 
 at the works and at last was sent to the head office." 
 
 "That looks sufficiently suspicious," said Mr. Lin-
 
 TTNCLE AND NEPHEW. 159 
 
 nette, with a bright gleam in his eye, " to justify me 
 in getting at the contents of this envelope at once.'* 
 
 He took up a paper cutter which lay on the desk, 
 but the postmaster turned livid. 
 
 "Excuse me !" he exclaimed. " To open a letter 
 after it has been deposited is punishable by a heavy 
 penalty. You must find some other way, sir." 
 
 " I can at least take it to her mother," Mr. Lin- 
 nette answered, his face darkening. "As her 
 daughter is a minor, she certainly has a right to it." 
 
 The postmaster was in great distress. He disliked 
 to offend this man, on whose goodwill his bread 
 and butter depended, but he had a fear of the law 
 that was even greater. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he stammered, " but what is 
 there to prove its authorship ? Even experts are 
 sometimes mistaken in relation to handwriting. It 
 has been committed to the mail and I dare not do 
 anything but forward it. If you wish to know what 
 is inside, there is a much safer way. You can take 
 the train to New York and get possession of it at 
 your office. I am very sorry, but I am under oath." 
 
 Mr. Linnette uttered an impatient exclamation and 
 strode into the street. In the morning he was a pas- 
 senger on the earliest train. He had merely told his 
 housekeeper that he was going away on business, 
 something too common to attract any attention. 
 
 He arrived at his New York office in advance of 
 the mail, and directed that all letters received be 
 brought to his private office. When they arrived he 
 found the one for which he specially waited. After
 
 160 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 deliberating a little he rang a bell and requested 
 that Mr. Dalton be asked to step in. 
 
 When this message was given to Guy he was 
 thrown into a state of agitation. He had seen Mr. 
 Linnette at the office once before, and knew he sel- 
 dom spoke to anyone except the head clerk or the 
 messenger boy. He tried to think of something he 
 had done to merit criticism, for he did not imagine 
 his employer would send for him on any other 
 account. When he presented himself in the inner 
 office there was a bright red spot in each of his pale 
 cheeks. 
 
 Mr. Linnette looked up at his entrance and told 
 the young man to sit down. 
 
 " Is your name Guy Dalton ?" he asked. 
 
 Guy responded with a faint affirmative. He had 
 marked the serious look and his forebodings in- 
 creased. 
 
 " How long have you been employed here ?" 
 
 " About a month, sir. Though, before that, 1 was 
 for some time at your Montvale Works." 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know," said Mr. Linnette. "Now, I 
 have a little business to transact with you. It is in 
 reference to this letter, which has just arrived in the 
 mail." 
 
 Guy showed his astonishment, as he gazed at the 
 envelope. He had no regular correspondent, and 
 could not imagine who had sent it. 
 
 " Do you recognize that handwriting ?" 
 
 " No, sir," responded the young man, after exam- 
 ining it with care. 
 
 " It was mailed at Montvale, you see."
 
 UNCLE AND HBPHEW. 161 
 
 Guy nodded vaguely. 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me," asked Mr. Linnette, 
 harply, " that you were not expecting a letter from 
 that place ?" 
 
 The young man's countenance grew still rosier. 
 He felt like one charged with an unknown offence, 
 like a man put on trial without being told of what 
 he is accused. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir," he answered, " but won't 
 you tell me the reason for this strange series of 
 questions. That letter, judging by the superscrip- 
 tion, appears to belong to me. I have no idea who 
 wrote it, but if you will hand it to me I can easily 
 ascertain. Then perhaps we shall get on better." 
 
 Mr. Linnette's brow darkened. 
 
 "Very likely," he said, satirically. "Very likely. 
 But you will not read it until I have opened it. I 
 mean to learn its contents before I give it to you." 
 
 As he took up a paper cutter from the desk, 
 Dalton's attitude changed instantly. 
 
 " You have no right to open that letter !" he cried, 
 hoarsely. 
 
 There was but one person that the instrument 
 maker had ever permitted to speak to him in that 
 way old Tom Hobbs. For an instant he was dis- 
 concerted, but he had no idea of giving the missive 
 to the one who claimed it with such a show of 
 haughtiness. 
 
 " Be careful, young man !" he replied. " This 
 letter is in the handwriting of a girl who is under 
 my protection. I have reason to believe that it con- 
 tains a message for an individual with whom I have
 
 162 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 forbidden her to hold any communication. I do not 
 propose, Mr. Dalton, to have one of my employes 
 use his position to frustrate me in the wise and 
 proper management of my affairs." 
 
 Guy heard and understood. It was as plain to 
 him now as the noonday. The letter was undoubt- 
 edly from Eva Warren, who had written to him 
 because she could not write to Roland. Having 
 come to this conclusion the young man determined 
 that Mr. Linnette, whatever his financial or social 
 position, should not possess himself of the sacred 
 secret contained in that envelope. Had he been the 
 president of the United States he would not have 
 allowed him to open it. 
 
 " Give me that letter !" he said, imperatively. 
 
 The elder man was trembling under the strain. 
 He had not closed his eyes all night. 
 
 " One minute," he answered, impressively. " I 
 want you to understand what you are doing. I have 
 told my nephew that if he ever attempts to com- 
 municate with this young lady I shall disinherit 
 him shall cease treating him as my relation from 
 that day forth. I think you call him your friend. 
 Consider, then, before you do an act that may ruin 
 him." 
 
 " Give me that letter !" 
 
 The outstretched hand was still claiming the 
 missive when an unexpected arrival complicated 
 affairs still more. Roland Linnette had happened 
 to call at the office for a word with Guy. On learn- 
 ing that his uncle was interviewing the young man 
 in his private office, he immediately suspected that
 
 UNCLE AND NEPHEW. 163 
 
 Something of interest to himself was going on there. 
 With this thought in mind he had no hesitation in 
 walking boldly into the room. 
 
 " Give me that letter !" he heard Guy say, and 
 his quick eye took in the address on the envelope 
 that his uncle held up. He knew the handwriting, 
 and the extraordinary tableau began to have a 
 definite meaning for him. 
 
 Eva had written to him, perhaps under cover of 
 Dalton's name but about him, at least. His uncle 
 was evidently withholding the letter from its right- 
 ful owner, probably with the intention of violating 
 its seal for his own purposes. The hottest anger he 
 had ever known suffused his brain, completely turn- 
 ing his head for the moment ; and before Willard 
 Linnette dreamed of his intention he strode forward 
 and grasped the missive in his hand. 
 
 The millionaire started to his feet, but, seeing the 
 determined attitude of both the young men, he de- 
 cided that it would be useless to attempt regaining 
 the document by brute force. The group made a 
 striking picture, the same expressions written on 
 each face. 
 
 " You have done a fine day's work, you two !" 
 sneered Mr. Linnette, between his shut teeth. " Mr. 
 Dalton, you may go to the cashier for whatever sum 
 is due you, and never show yourself in my office 
 again. And you " he addressed himself now to 
 Roland " may go where you please ; to the devil, 
 if you like ! I shall cancel your letter of credit, and 
 you will get nothing more from me. Let me tell 
 you another thing. The poor girl you meant to
 
 164 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 ruin, as you have a hundred others, will be kep v 
 from your clutches. To her will go the fortune I 
 had meant for you. When you are starving in some 
 garret, console yourself by remembering how easily 
 you threw a million good dollars away !" 
 
 During the delivery of this speech he choked fre- 
 quently, overcome by the vehemence of his feelings. 
 As he paused, Dalton, appalled at the extent of the 
 calamity he had helped to bring upon his friend, 
 stepped forward. 
 
 " I have been wrong, entirely wrong !" he cried. 
 "Roland must not suffer on my account. No, the 
 letter is mine, but he shall give it to you. I with- 
 draw all objections. I accept my discharge, sir, but 
 I entreat you not to punish another for a fault that 
 was wholly my own. Give it to him, Roland," he 
 added, addressing himself to that young gentleman. 
 " I am sure he will then retract what he has said 
 about you and leave me to bear my punishment 
 alone." 
 
 Wrought up as he had been, Willard Linnette 
 would willingly have met even a halfway approach 
 on the part of his nephew. He felt a genuine alarm 
 at the extent to which his passionate nature had led 
 him. But, angrier even than he, Roland gave him no 
 opportunity. 
 
 "He shall not have it !" he retorted. "A letter 
 from such a girl shall not be touched by profane 
 hands. Do you think he is going to scare me by his 
 threats? What do they amount to, at the worst? 
 Why, that he will give his miserable money the 
 only thing there is to him, the only thing that makes
 
 UNCLE AND NEPHEW. 165 
 
 people doff their hats when he passes, to the one 
 I most love and honor ! That money of his ! He has 
 spent too much of it for me already. It would have 
 been a thousand times better had he sent me out 
 years ago, with twenty dollars in my pocket, to fight 
 my way. But let me tell you, sir" (lie addressed 
 himself to his uncle), "you will never steal Eva 
 Warren's love from me. I am now free from obliga- 
 tion to you, and shall attempt no farther conceal- 
 ment. She has promised to marry me, and, if she 
 will take me as I am, she shall be my wife." 
 
 Mr. Linnette's features seemed petrified as he 
 answered. These words withered the olive branch 
 he had been ready to stretch out. 
 
 " If that misguided young woman should link her 
 life with yours which she never will do, if I can 
 prevent it she will not receive a penny of my 
 money. Don't imagine you are going to mock me 
 and inherit my wealth through that channel. When 
 you find that she is penniless we shall see how real 
 your professions are !" 
 
 Roland gazed with a pitying look at the old man 
 before him. 
 
 " Look at him, Guy," he said. " He is seventy 
 years of age, and the only thing he can think of is 
 money, money, MONEY ! During his long life no 
 woman's love has ever warmed his heart, no child 
 of his own has ever played about his knees. He has 
 not even felt the delights of passion. He has known 
 nothing but money, and now that his hair is white he 
 babbles of his possessions as children of their toys." 
 
 Putting his arm affectionately around his com-
 
 160 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 panion's shoulder Roland drew him out into the 
 main office, where he found his hat and coat. Then 
 the two young men, one of them white and dizzy, 
 the other loftily serene, went out of the building 
 together.
 
 OH, I KNOW SOME THINGS." 167 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 "OH, I KNOW SOME THINGS." 
 
 As soon as he was left alone in his office Willard 
 Linnette sank into his chair, and for more than an 
 hour did not move from that position. He could 
 hardly believe himself awake. The scene he had 
 just witnessed was like an exceedingly unpleasant 
 dream. It seemed impossible that his nephew could 
 have dared him to his face, thrown away all his 
 prospects like dross, and ended by those most insult- 
 ing words. But he was obliged to admit that the 
 crisis had actually occurred. The Rubicon had 
 been passed. There was no longer any question of 
 reconciliation. He must return to Montvale and 
 carry out his threat. 
 
 Late that night he reached home, and all the next 
 day he remained indoors, preparing himself for an 
 interview with Tom Hobbs, which he had determined 
 to have that evening. He knew that Hobbs would 
 oppose him at every point, but he had no other per- 
 son in whom he was willing to confide. In his 
 present state of mind it would be a relief to 
 unbosom himself even to him. 
 
 The collision with Roland made him desperate. 
 For the past month he had tried with all his might 
 to bring himself to the point where he could effect a
 
 168 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 full reconciliation with the young man. He pre- 
 ferred to believe he was not as bad as represented. 
 He reflected that something must be allowed for his 
 unguided youth. And he had even debated the 
 possibility of surrendering to his nephew all hopes 
 of possessing the sweet girl whose love filled the 
 brightest spot in his lonely existence. 
 
 Now all this was over. Every time he thought of 
 Roland he heard that mocking voice, " Money, 
 money, MONEY ! All this old man thinks of is 
 money /" Ah, well ! The boy would learn what 
 money was, when he had tried a few weeks to live 
 without it, and would come creeping back, begging 
 for ever so little of an allowance ; this fellow without 
 a trade or profession. And he would give him 
 nothing no, not one cent. He was through with 
 him, and forever ! 
 
 In a short conversation which he had with Mrs. 
 Warren, he gave her a dim impression that his nephew 
 had met with a severe accident. 
 
 "Did you meet any of your relations in New 
 York ?" she asked, anxiously. 
 
 " I did not," he replied, frowning darkly. " I have 
 no relation there but my brother, and I was too busy 
 to see him." 
 
 " Something serious has happened, then, to Mr. 
 Roland ?" 
 
 " Something very serious, Mrs. Warren. It is a 
 disagreeable subject, and I do not care to go into it. 
 Let it suffice that I have discovered him to be 
 wholly unworthy of my regard, and shall neither pro- 
 vide for him hereafter nor leave him anything in my
 
 "OH, I KNOW SOME THINGS." 169 
 
 Ti'.f. This being the case, having already made full 
 provisions for my brother, I shall have a handsome 
 sum to bequeath to to someone else. Within a 
 few days I intend to have a lawyer here and re- 
 arrange everything." 
 
 When Tom Hobbs came that evening, Mr. Lin- 
 nette put on his very boldest front. Everything must 
 now depend upon one cast of the die. 
 
 "You've often called me an old fool, Tom," he 
 said, quietly. " You can't say anything much worse 
 when I tell you what I am going to do next." 
 
 Tom was engaged at the moment in the impor- 
 tant occupation of cutting tobacco for his pipe. He 
 nodded his head, without looking up. 
 
 " I'm going to marry !" 
 
 Hobbs raised his eyes just enough to dart a look 
 of contempt at his companion. 
 
 " You don't suppose that's any surprise to me," he 
 said. " How many times have I said your house- 
 keeper would pull the wool over youi eyes and get 
 to be mistress of this place, before she had done 
 with you ?" 
 
 The error was a natural one, but Mr. Linnette bit 
 his lip as he heard it. 
 
 "Well, for once, you were wrong," he replied. 
 
 "Wrong?" echoed Hobbs, amazed. 
 
 " Wrong. It is not Mrs. Warren that I am to 
 wed." 
 
 The superintendent was completely nonplussed. 
 For a moment he felt a sensation resembling regret. 
 If Linnette was bound to marry, Mrs. Warren would 
 do as well as anyone else. She was at least used to
 
 170 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 his moods, his manner of living, and acquainted to a 
 certain degree with his business. Hobbs did not 
 like to contemplate a strange woman there, altering 
 everything to suit her own tastes, and his employer 
 had denied the suggestion of Eva so vehemently on 
 a previous occasion that he never once thought of 
 her. 
 
 " Not your housekeeper !" 
 
 Linnette laughed a little. He was becoming reck- 
 less. He meant to defy the entire universe, in the 
 person of old Tom Hobbs. His superintendent 
 undoubtedly represented popular opinion on this 
 matter. All Montvale would have said the same. 
 What business had Hobbs, or Montvale, to pick out 
 Mrs. Warren for him ? Could he not decide on his 
 own wife, without their interference ? 
 
 " No," he said, decidedly, and not without a tinge 
 of malice. " It is not Mrs. Warren that I am think- 
 ing of marrying." 
 
 " Then you are a bigger fool than I took you to 
 be," snarled Hobbs. " To marry her would prove 
 you short of common sense, but to take another 
 woman would show that you had become completely 
 daft." 
 
 The man of wealth listened with no sign of disap- 
 proval. He was used to this blunt man and expected 
 nothing less from him. 
 
 " Thanks," he responded, with polite irony. 
 "And what would you call me if I were to tell 
 you that the woman I mean to wed is her 
 daughter ?"
 
 "OH, I KNOW SOME THINGS." 171 
 
 At this remark the slight control which Hobbs 
 had retained of his temper gave way entirely. 
 
 " A villain /" he cried. 
 
 Linnette's manner changed like lightning at the 
 appellation. He lost color and his voice grew stern. 
 
 " Take care !" he said, icily. 
 
 Hobbs was excited. He rose to his feet and took 
 a dozen steps up and down the room. Then he 
 turned to Mr. Linnette, and begged him, with the 
 utmost earnestness, to admit that he did not mean 
 what he said. 
 
 " Only tell me you were joking," he pleaded, 
 " and I will yes, I will even beg your pardon !" 
 
 Never had Mr. Linnette seen his superintendent in 
 such a mood. He had not believed that an occasion 
 could arise when Hobbs would admit, under any cir- 
 cumstances, that he had been in the wrong. 
 
 44 I never meant anything more in my life," he 
 said, coldly. " And let me add that if the announce- 
 ment does not please you I cannot help it. I am old 
 enough to manage my own business." 
 
 Hobbs was still struggling with his incredulity. 
 
 44 Old enough !" he ejaculated. " God knows you 
 are old enough ! But this child this school-girl " 
 
 " She is eighteen," interrupted his companion, 
 
 41 And she has consented?" 
 
 Linnette paused ior some seconds before ne 
 answered. 
 
 14 1 have not yet proposed to her ; but, do you 
 think she will refuse ?" 
 
 No, Hobbs did not think so. He could see in
 
 172 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 imagination the bauble dangling before her eye* 
 the million dollars that would bait the hook. 
 
 "What does her mother say ?" he asked, like one 
 who catches at a straw. 
 
 " Her mother is a sensible woman. She will not be 
 likely to stand in the way of her daughter's advance- 
 ment." 
 
 Hobbs, in his wrath, shook his clenched fist at the 
 air. 
 
 " Advancement !" he cried. " God, Will Lin- 
 nette ! You drive me crazy !" 
 
 The man addressed vouchsafed no reply to this 
 exclamation. He was becoming angrier every minute 
 at the attitude taken an attitude, he told himself, 
 that the world at large would be sure to copy. 
 
 " I've thought, a hundred times," continued Hobbs, 
 speaking as if the words choked him, " that the time 
 would come when you would marry the mother and 
 the girl would get your nephew. But " 
 
 He stopped, appalled by the savage gleam in his 
 employer's eyes. 
 
 " Never speak to me of that boy again !" thundered 
 the latter. " He has interfered between me and one 
 of my clerks, insulted me, called me every name he 
 could lay his tongue to, abused and threatened me ! 
 And that is not the greatest offence of which he has 
 been guilty. Before he left Montvale he entered 
 these grounds at night, in collusion with a servant, 
 and was admitted to Miss Eva's apartment !" 
 
 Hobbs stared at the speaker until it seemed as if 
 his eyes were frozen in their sockets. 
 
 " Who told you that last lie ?" he demanded.
 
 "OH, I KHOW SOME THINGS.** 173 
 
 44 Oh, I know some things !" was the retort. " I saw 
 him enter the house, with her maid as his escort, and 
 I saw him leave it an hour later. Then I stopped 
 him in the road on his way back to the village, and 
 charged him with it ; and he had not a word to say 
 for himself." 
 
 There was no questioning this direct evidence, and 
 Hobbs decided to change the manner of his attack. 
 
 " And you tell me that you mean to marry a girl 
 like that!" he exclaimed. "A girl who admits a 
 young man to her chamber at night !" 
 
 Willard Linnette had not thought of the matter 
 in this light. He had only considered the offense as 
 his nephew's. It now occurred to him that he must 
 have come by Eva's invitation. The color left his 
 face and he was quite pale. 
 
 " You happened to discover this visit, "said Hobbs, 
 pushing his advantage, like a skillful general, at the 
 point where his adversary's line was weakest. " By 
 some accident you learned of that one call, but how 
 can you tell there were not fifty others that escaped 
 your observation ?" 
 
 Linnette was plainly staggered by this suggestion. 
 
 " A man should select his wife of different mater- 
 ial than this," pursued the other, relentlessly. 
 "Your nephew was here at the hotel for three weeks 
 while you were out of town. For all you know he 
 may have gone to see her every night. If her maid 
 could let him in once she could again. Don't let 
 your infatuation blind your eyes completely." 
 
 Mr. Linnette drew a long breath that was full of 
 pain.
 
 174 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 " 'Love laughs at locksmiths,' " continued Hobbs, 
 " and every post-office holds one of his representa- 
 tives. You have sent the boy away, but you can't 
 keep them from corresponding." 
 
 Linnette shook as if he had the ague. He knew 
 the correspondence had begun, not by his nephew, 
 either, but by Eva. What terrible thing was this 
 pressing upon his brain ? Could it be that Hobbs 
 had a basis for his insinuation ? Was this girl, 
 instead of the innocent creature she appeared, a 
 scheming adventuress of depraved character ? It 
 was true he had seen Roland enter the house but 
 once, but was it at all likely this was his only call 
 there? No, he could not bear it; anything was 
 better than these horrible suspicions. And he burst 
 out that he would know the truth that he would 
 go that instant to seek the girl and force her to tell 
 him the facts with her own lips. 
 
 But this was the last thing that Hobbs wanted 
 him to do at that time. As Mr. Linnette rose to 
 leave the room he stopped him. 
 
 " Don't be foolish," he said, impressively. " There 
 is but one way in which you can preserve the honor 
 of your establishment. In the first place you must 
 give up your senseless plan of marrying this child, 
 and next you must compel your nephew to right 
 the wrong he has done." 
 
 But Linnette lost his temper at this, and swore 
 roundly that Roland's name must never again be 
 mentioned in his presence. If that boy had done 
 anything criminal anything reflecting on Miss 
 Warren's good name he would see that he was
 
 "OH, I KNOW SOME THINGS." 175 
 
 ^unished, not rewarded. But he did not believe it, 
 and he was going to see her at once and satisfy 
 himself that it was untrue. 
 
 " You will probably make a mess of it," growled 
 Hobbs. " You had better let me go with you." 
 
 This offer was refused sharply. 
 
 " Then I will wait here," said the imperturbable 
 man. 
 
 " You can do as you please." 
 
 Linnette went into the parlor and summoned a 
 servant, whom he despatched for Charlotte. When 
 the maid arrived he inquired if her mistress was to 
 be found in her apartment. 
 
 "Yes, sir," said the maid. "But," she added, not 
 liking the strange look on the master's face, "she is 
 about to retire." 
 
 " I am going to see her," was the brief statement 
 Mr. Linnette made. 
 
 " In her room ?" exclaimed the maid, with vivid 
 color. 
 
 Mr. Linnette bent toward her and spoke with a 
 volume of meaning. 
 
 " It will not be the first time she has received a 
 man there, as you know well. She is not undressed, 
 I suppose ?" 
 
 " N-o, sir," replied Charlotte, frightened at his 
 words. 
 
 "Then I shall go. You need not accompany me. 
 And, unless you wish to leave this house to-morrow, 
 you will say nothing to anyone."
 
 176 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 BEGINNING ALL OVER. 
 
 When Roland Linnette and Guy Dalton walked 
 out of the office of the Montvale Optical Company, 
 neither was in a very comfortable frame of mind. 
 
 Dalton was by far the most distressed. He could 
 not help feeling that he had wrecked the prospects 
 of his benefactor. It grieved him to the utmost that 
 his proffered sacrifice had not been accepted as the 
 best solution of the unhappy business. His own loss, 
 that of his situation, seemed trivial beside his friend's 
 misfortune. It was a terrible thing that such a 
 rupture should have happened between Mr. Linnetttf 
 and his nephew. 
 
 Roland, on the contrary, was too indignant to think 
 consecutively. His uncle's conduct appeared to him 
 entirely indefensible. Proposing to open a letter 
 directed to another person was, in his opinion, the 
 depth of meanness. As to Eva Warren, her mother's 
 employer had no right to interfere with her actions 
 in the way he had attempted to do. She was not 
 his child, nor was he in a legal sense her guardian. 
 The young man was stung again at the recollection 
 of the ignominious manner in which he had been 
 driven from Montvale. He had persuaded himself 
 that his consent to obey his uncle's peremptory 
 order was obtained quite as much from fear of 
 injuring Eva as from care for his own interests. As
 
 BEGINNING ALL OVE. 177 
 
 they walked along toward his rooms he lashed him- 
 self into a rage over his injuries. 
 
 " Confound the man, did he take me for a fool !" 
 he cried. "I should think by the way he talked he 
 considered me about five years old. The deuce take 
 him and his money ! I'm heartily glad to be rid of 
 both. I will get work and eat the bread of indepen- 
 dence. Yes, Guy, and when I can earn enough for 
 two, I will bring that charming girl from Montvale 
 and divide the loaf with her." 
 
 Guy, who had been through the experience of 
 looking for a situation, was not so confident. But 
 he did not mean to discourage his companion, whom 
 he believed much wiser and abler than himself. 
 Accordingly, he concealed his apprehensions, and said 
 they must sit down as soon as possible and form a 
 regular plan of action. 
 
 " We'll do it," said Roland, briskly. " Come into 
 the house with me and let us study out our problem 
 together." 
 
 Seated in the cosy parlor of the suite, they soon set 
 themselves to the task before them. 
 
 " To begin with," said Roland, " I shall have to 
 give notice that I'm going to move. They have the 
 assurance to charge me a hundred dollars a month 
 for this little box, which will certainly be beyond my 
 means now. I don't know exactly where I shall dis- 
 pose of my time and talents, but it's very unlikely the 
 emoluments will justify this rate of expense at pres- 
 ent. I shall have to pack these traps away some- 
 where, hire a furnished bedroom, and browse around 
 in boarding houses for my meals. Ugh ! it makes
 
 ITS LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 me shiver! What do you suppose I'm fit for? 
 Never mind. I've a lot of pluck, and they say the 
 world owes every man a living. Wait a minute, 
 now, till I send a letter to my landlord." 
 
 He went to a handsome desk and took out some 
 elegant stationery, upon which he began to write. 
 
 " It must be awfully dreary in a furnished room," 
 he said, pausing in the midst of his labor. " I shall 
 never stay in it except when I'm a-bed or getting in 
 or out. Is there anything to let over on Tenth 
 Avenue ? By George !" he exclaimed, springing 
 gaily to his feet. " I have an idea !" 
 
 Dalton was the picture of interest. It is the nature 
 of drowning men to catch at straws. 
 
 " Why not take a cheap flat ?" said Roland, putting 
 down his pen. " I have things enough to furnish all 
 but the kitchen. Then, if we could get a house- 
 keeper, we should at least have the satisfaction of 
 knowing how our food was cooked. With two of 
 us to divide the cost, it wouldn't be so recklessly 
 expensive. Besides, if we got nervous, there would 
 be several rooms to promenade in. And it would 
 be a kind of home, which a mere lodging never is. 
 What do you say ?" 
 
 " It would be very nice, if the cost was low 
 enough," responded Dalton, doubtfully. 
 
 Roland scratched the top of his head for a few 
 minutes with the handle of a paper cutter. All at 
 once he uttered a war-whoop. 
 
 " Tra-la-la-la-la ! 1 have it ! Don't say a word ! 
 Nothing could be finer. She is working for hardly 
 enough to pay for her board and room, and she
 
 BEGINNING ALL OVER. 179 
 
 would certainly come. Yes, there is no question 
 about it !" 
 
 Dalton shook his head in a puzzled way, wonder- 
 ing if his companion's troubles had unsettled his 
 reason. 
 
 " Of whom are you talking ?" he asked. 
 
 " Why how stupid you can be when you like ! 
 Maud, of course. She's living a miserable life be- 
 tween that millinery shop and her poorly furnished 
 chamber. She has been in a hotel and ought to 
 make a famous housekeeper. We could hire the 
 harder things done by those women who go around 
 by the day, but as the presiding genius of our flat 
 she would be adorable ! She'd come, wouldn't 
 she ?" 
 
 Guy colored, as was his wont when women were 
 the subject of discussion ; but he rallied presently, 
 and replied that he believed Miss Arline might con- 
 sider the matter. 
 
 " Consider it ?" laughed Roland. " She'll jump at 
 it, if only for the chance of seeing you oftener. I 
 believe you have quite fascinated her, by this time. 
 Honor bright, between us, isn't she in love with 
 you ?" 
 
 Guy did not give an answering smile to the one on 
 the face of his friend, but he replied, very calmly, 
 that he thought Maud liked him. 
 
 " Think !" cried Roland. " Hang it, don't you 
 know ?" 
 
 "Yes," said the other, in his straightforward way. 
 "I know." 
 
 Roland gazed at him with intense curiosity. He
 
 180 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 wondered how far things had gone. He knew they 
 were in the habit of meeting almost every evening. 
 The pretty Maud ! How shy she had been at Mont- 
 vale, hardly daring to sit at the table with him. 
 blushing when he addressed her, ready to faint when 
 he hinted that he would like to touch her cheek with 
 his lips. Sweet Maud ! Innocent little Maud ! 
 
 "Then that is settled," he said, rousing himself. 
 " What a nice party we three will make. We shall 
 have a common purse. There's not likely to be too 
 much in it, but we'll share all there is. Do you con- 
 sent to that ? Shall we divide everything all but the 
 kisses of Miss Maud, which, it is understood, belong 
 exclusively to you ?" 
 
 Guy felt distressed as he heard these words. 
 What would be Roland's attitude toward Maud, if 
 they became one family? If he should make obnox- 
 ious advances, nothing could prevent a rupture, not 
 even the recollection of old obligations. 
 
 " I'm afraid," he replied, ignoring the unpleasant 
 part of his friend's remarks, " that I shall get the 
 best of the bargain, if we have one pocketbook. 
 You'll be sure to bring in much more than I. You 
 have a number of acquaintances in the city, while I 
 have absolutely none." 
 
 Linnette laughed lightly. 
 
 " We are equal on that score," said he. " I would 
 starve to death before I would ask for help. No, we 
 must depend on ourselves entirely. But my rent is 
 going on at a fearful rate and I must send this letter 
 to my landlord. After that we can take an account 
 of stock."
 
 BWHKNING ALL OVE. 181 
 
 Ringing a bell he placed the letter in the hands of 
 a servant. 
 
 "A fortnight from to-day," he said, smiling, when 
 the man had disappeared, " we shall have to do our 
 own errands. These electric contrivances with a 
 messenger on the end are really too luxurious and 
 debilitating. Now, let us see what we have on which 
 to begin our independent existence. We will empty 
 our pockets and learn the worst." 
 
 In spite of the sober thoughts that afflicted him, 
 Guy could not help being affected by his friend's 
 gaiety. He found on investigation that he had the 
 sum of $17.29, while Roland had $92.25. The latter 
 counted the money in great glee, and remarked that 
 is was much better than nothing. 
 
 " You are quite rich, compared with me," Guy 
 remarked, regretfully. 
 
 "Ah, but my liabilities are greater. I shall have 
 to pay fifty dollars on these rooms, before I can get 
 out of them. Give up your chamber on the shortest 
 possible notice and come here. That will save a 
 little. I have a few rings, a gold watch and a 
 diamond pin that will bring something. As we are 
 to be so very economical Maud might come here 
 also," he added, with a laugh, "if she could content 
 herself with a sofa." 
 
 Guy rose, uneasy at this turn in the conversation. 
 
 " I will go home now and prepare to move," he 
 said. " I will speak to Miss Arline about the house- 
 keeping matter, when I meet her to-night for dinner. 
 I am very, very sorry to have been the means of 
 making trouble between you and your uncle," he
 
 182 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 continued, with a tremor in his voice. " Perhaps, 
 when you have slept over it, you will feel like trying 
 to make up with him." 
 
 " D n him !" was the reply. " I am only too 
 glad to be rid of him, to be able to do as I please.. 
 But what a crazy pair we are ! you have not read 
 I your letter yet, the one that made all the row." 
 It was true. The letter was still slumbering in 
 Guy's pocket, where he had placed it when first 
 handed to him. He took it out now and offered it 
 to his companion, but Roland insisted that as it was 
 directed to him he must read it. Persuaded by this 
 logic, Guy opened the envelope and found its con- 
 tents to be as follows : 
 
 " DEAR SIR : Are you able to inform me of the 
 present address of Mr. Roland Linnette ? If so, you 
 will confer a great favor. Please send your reply to 
 *W. E.,' Care of Mrs. Susan Merrill, Montvale. 
 
 " Yours Sincerely, EVA WARREN." 
 
 " Not very touching, is it ?" laughed Roland, as 
 he perused the letter. "Well, with your permission, 
 I will answer it myself. She shall know the little 
 scrape she has got me into. My uncle can't keep 
 her from writing, as I see, if Charlotte continues 
 true. I'll send a reply in time for the evening mail 
 and she'll get it by noon to-morrow. Mrs. Merrill's 
 name shows that she does not dare to have anything 
 sent direct to the house. To avoid interference at 
 this end of the road I will give her my new street 
 and number. Don't forget to call to-morrow morn- 
 ing. Au revoir, men ami/"
 
 IK EVA'S CHAMBER. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 IN EVA'S CHAMBER. 
 
 Roland's letter reached Eva, as he expected, on 
 the noon of the day following the one on which it was 
 written. It was composed in his best vein, and 
 divided between a narration of what had happened 
 in his uncle's office and a series of solemn declara- 
 tions that he meant to make himself worthy of " the 
 only girl he had ever cared for." Eva felt a great 
 elation as she read it. How noble it was of him, to 
 make such a sacrifice ! He had given up fortune, 
 comfort, ease everything for her dear sake. How 
 different this from the picture his uncle had drawn ! 
 
 " Now that you are able to communicate with me, 
 through the assistance of your friend, Mrs. Merrill," 
 he wrote, " we shall be able to nerve each other for 
 every trial that enemies may put in our way. Have 
 Mrs. M. write on your envelopes, and send your let- 
 ters to the address and name which I enclose. That 
 will make all perfectly safe both at Montvale and 
 here. My uncle has evidently determined to keep 
 you from me, if he can. He may try to fill your head 
 with the most awful stories, but don't believe him. 
 I have not always been a saint, which I lament sin- 
 cerely ; but I shall be true to you, whatever happens. 
 Keep me informed of all that transpires. I shall 
 await your replies with the utmost eagerness. Af
 
 184 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 soon as fate smiles on my endeavors, rest assured I 
 shall come for you." 
 
 Eva read this, first to herself and then to Charlotte. 
 She could not resist the inclination to share her 
 secret with some feminine breast, and she had the 
 most perfect confidence in her maid. 
 
 " Oh, it is so sweet to be loved !" she cried, 
 ecstatically. " This is what I wanted all the time 
 instead of those dreadful powders and potions. See 
 how much better my complexion is, how much more 
 color I have. I hope he will not make me wait too 
 long. I want very little only a piece of bread and 
 a roof to cover me, but in his arms I should forget 
 even hunger and cold." 
 
 The next hour was taken up in discussing the 
 matter, Charlotte looking on the bright side, like 
 her mistress, and predicting that all would come out 
 right in the end. Then Eva took her pen and poured 
 out her soul to her lover. In the innocent freedom 
 of her heart she kept back nothing. She did not 
 hesitate to declare that she had never known happi- 
 ness till now, to vow eternal fidelity, even to admit 
 that she longed for the hour when he would be her 
 own in deed and truth. Sneer not at her, my dear 
 young lady reader. She had not acquired your 
 power of concealing her feelings. She did not 
 understand why she should be less frank than the 
 man she had promised to wed. 
 
 When her letter was finished and crowded into 
 its envelope she affixed two stamps, knowing that it 
 must be over-weight. Charlotte took the missive to
 
 nr EVA'S CHAMBER. 185 
 
 her relation, Mrs. Merrill, who wrote the address as 
 requested and put it in the mail box. 
 
 The rest of the afternoon was passed by Eva in 
 a delirium of bliss. She played for more than an 
 hour on the piano, chanting a love-song that she 
 found among her music. The words had meant 
 nothing to her when the piece first came into the 
 house. Now each fond expression referred dis- 
 tinctly to Roland, and she sang it over and over 
 again. 
 
 At supper she noticed that Mr. Linnette said little, 
 but for a long time he had not talked as much as he 
 used at the table. Mrs. Warren was not equal to 
 carrying the mam burden of a conversation, and as 
 Eva had nothing to say, the meal was passed in al- 
 most total silence. When it was ended Eva went 
 back to her sitting-room, ensconced herself in a 
 comfortable chair, and after reading Roland's letter 
 through again, and kissing it many times, plunged 
 into the pages of a love-story that Charlotte had 
 found for her in the library. 
 
 The book was so suited to her frame of mind that 
 she read a long time. She was accustomed to re- 
 quire the services of her maid at frequent intervals, 
 for in that house she had grown accustomed to all 
 the attentions usually given to a young lady of 
 wealth. But this evening, falling into a reverie that 
 she did not wish disturbed, she removed her cloth- 
 ing without assistance. Then, donning a white 
 night-dress, and slipping over it a chamber gown, 
 she put a pair of worsted slippers on her stocking- 
 less feet, and curled up in the easy chair again.
 
 186 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 Her hair floated about her shoulders like a clout.. 
 She meant to have Charlotte braid it before she 
 went to sleep, but for the present the novel filled all 
 her thoughts. There was a young man in it that 
 made her think of Roland, and wonder of wonders ! 
 a cruel uncle who threatened to disinherit him if 
 he married against his will. But the young man 
 exactly like Roland again declared on every third 
 page that nothing should win him from the girl he 
 loved. 
 
 There came a tap at the door. What a nuisance ! 
 Charlotte should know better than to appear when 
 she was not rung for. Eva was at the most enter- 
 taining part of the story. 
 
 " Come in !" she called, without lifting her eyes 
 from the page. As the door swung slowly open she 
 added, "Sit down, and don't speak till I finish this 
 chapter. I never read anything so interesting. It 
 seems exactly like my own case." 
 
 It was not Charlotte, but Willard Linnette. He 
 had come straight from his conference with Tom 
 Hobbs, resolved to take this girl to task for her con- 
 duct in reference to his nephew, and to wring from 
 her a confession as to its extent. He was not going 
 to be made a fool of by this child any longer. She 
 should not aid his graceless nephew to insult him. He 
 would soon decide whether his fortune should go to 
 her, or whether she was as unworthy as the one he 
 had disinherited. 
 
 He had loved this girl. He had been mad over 
 her. He had been very near to bringing on himself 
 the derision of the world, as an old man who had sue*
 
 nr VA'S CHAMBER. 187 
 
 combed to the charms of a child. For three years he 
 had seen nothing but her beauty, he had cared for 
 nothing so much as her smile. It was Tom Hobbs 
 who had revealed to him the extent of his devotion 
 the fact that he loved her so dearly that he wanted 
 to clasp her in his arms as his wedded wife ! But 
 there are limitations to what even love can endure. 
 
 If the last guess Hobbs had made was correct, if 
 she had been more to his nephew than a virtuous 
 girl should be, he would find it out. If she was 
 determined to correspond with that young scoundrel, 
 she had only to say so, and he would have done 
 with her. Very likely he had been on the verge of 
 idiocy over her charms, but that was ended. He 
 would know, before he left her room, whether she 
 was still worthy his affection and esteem, or whether 
 he must cast her out of his heart. 
 
 These were the thoughts that traversed his mind 
 as he came through the hallway and ascended the 
 stairs. But, as he opened the door, in response to 
 her voice, his resolutions weakened. He knew, when 
 his glance rested upon her, that she had not intend- 
 ed to admit anyone but her mother or Charlotte. 
 The floating hair, the neglige costume, the pose, all 
 told him this. Still he did not retreat, nor did he 
 inform her of her error. He was glad to have a 
 minute in which to recover himself. They had been 
 such intimate friends that he did not believe the 
 condition of her dress would disturb her unduly, 
 when she discovered her mistake. He must talk to 
 her, now ; he could not wait another hour. So he
 
 188 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 closed the door softly behind him and took his chair 
 near it, awaiting her pleasure. 
 
 The first glance decided one great point. He 
 could not look at that sweet face and think anything 
 but innocence rested there. She had been guilty of 
 no graver fault than indiscretion. Hobbs was a 
 wretch to suggest such a possibility. Mr. Linnette's 
 harsh thoughts began to fade away. He knew he 
 could not say half he had meant to, nor could he 
 assume the dictatorial tone he had intended to use. 
 Before she raised her eyes from the book, he wished 
 heartily that he had taken more time before rushing 
 so heedlessly into her presence. 
 
 A low sigh escaped the girl's lips as she finished 
 the chapter. Her hero had not yet had the happi- 
 ness of pressing the pretty heroine to his breast. A 
 hundred barriers rose before them at every turn, 
 intensely aggravating to the fair young reader, who 
 would have preferred to have them married in the 
 first chapter and relegated to a life of bliss forever 
 after. 
 
 " Well, Charlotte," she began. 
 
 When she saw who her visitor was, she rose 
 from her chair with a look that was far from 
 welcoming. 
 
 " Mr. Linnette," she said, " I am surprised that 
 you should come into my room in this manner. If 
 you wished to see me, you could have sent me 
 word." 
 
 He was not pleased at the extreme haughtiness 
 with which she spoke. She need not wholly forget, 
 he thought, what she owed to his bounty. His tern-
 
 1H EVA'S CHAMBER. 189 
 
 per had been severely tried during the past two 
 days, and again it mastered him. 
 
 " Why this distinction ?" he answered, coldly. 
 " I knew you were in the habit of receiving gentle- 
 men here " 
 
 The attack was begun, almost before he knew it. 
 He had entered on a campaign from which there 
 was no retreat. With one great flash of flame he 
 had burned his bridges behind him. 
 
 The girlish face lit up with indignation. 
 
 "Gentlemen !" she repeated. 
 
 He knew that she questioned the plural, but he 
 seized his opportunity. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said. , " The term was 
 too complimentary." 
 
 The girl's bosom rose and fell rapidly. 
 
 " If a person ever came here," she replied, " it was 
 not without an invitation, nor was I compelled to 
 receive him in such attire as this. He may or may 
 not be a ' gentleman,' according to the interpreta- 
 tion put upon that word. To-day, thanks to you, 
 he is a penniless seeker after work with which to 
 support himself. But it requires something more 
 than money to make a true gentleman ; and I feel 
 justified in adding that your present conduct does 
 not stamp you as one." 
 
 She had heard from Roland. Her words proved 
 that. She was resolved to remain his friend. This 
 was attested by her manner. 
 
 " Your words are meaningless," he .replied, his 
 heart growing harder. " It matters little whether 
 you wear one dress or another, whether my coining
 
 190 LOTK AT SEVENTY. 
 
 is announced or not. What I have to say to you 
 is of the utmost moment, and must not be delayed 
 an instant longer." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders, as if to intimate that 
 he might go on, if he was willing to do so after the 
 protest she had made. Wrapping her peignoir 
 closer around her, and making sure that her feet 
 were invisible, she turned a passionless face toward 
 him. 
 
 "You have lived in my house," continued Mr. Lin- 
 nette, " for three years. You have had everything 
 that I could give you. There has been nothing " 
 
 "Let us consider that understood," she inter- 
 rupted. " And let me remind you that it detracts 
 greatly from the value of a gift when the recipient is 
 reminded of it." 
 
 The old man's brows contracted. 
 
 " I have never alluded to it before," he retorted, 
 " and I only do so now because it is a necessary pre- 
 lude to what I intend to say." 
 
 " If the rest is not more agreeable than the pre- 
 lude, I hope it will be brief," was her calm reply. 
 
 At that he broke forth hotly that he had a right 
 to speak to her ; that he was in effect the guardian 
 of her reputation ; that he should be remiss in his 
 duty when he found her making a serious mistake if 
 he did not inform her of it. He then went on, not 
 giving her time to interrupt him, to speak of Miss Ar- 
 line, whom he said he had sent away from Montvale 
 to save her from Roland. He alluded to the collection 
 of photographs which his nephew had brought home 
 from Europe, of his hundred sweethearts in foreign
 
 IK EVA'S CHAMBER. 191 
 
 lands, " white, black, yellow and brown." He 
 declared that no good girl was safe in his company. 
 Roland was capable of making love until her head 
 was turned, and then deserting her without mercy. 
 Lately he had conducted himself in such a manner 
 that his uncle felt obliged to cast him off. 
 
 Then he referred to the visit his nephew had made 
 her. He said Roland knew acquainted with the 
 world as he was that he had committed a most 
 flagrant breach of good morals ; and the speaker 
 ^averred that no man could do less than denounce 
 such an act, though the perpetrator were one of his 
 nearest blood relations. 
 
 Eva listened to all this without changing her posi- 
 tion, and with no evidence of special surprise. 
 When Mr. Linnette paused for breath she kept 
 perfect silence. 
 
 " What have you to say ?" he demanded. 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 " You do not object to these things !" 
 
 " I do not believe them." 
 
 He had expected anything but this cool response. 
 It was almost as if she had called him a liar in set 
 terms. 
 
 " He has bewitched you !" he cried. 
 
 A smile came over her pretty mouth. 
 
 "I think you are right," she replied. "I lore 
 Roland too much to credit anything against him." 
 
 What a wall of adamant she was ! 
 
 " Supposing I showed you proofs ?" 
 
 " I would not look at them." 
 
 u If I brought you witnesses ?"
 
 192 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 " I would not listen." 
 
 These answers made him quite beside himself 
 with rage. 
 
 " You shall never lower yourself by marrying that 
 boy !" he exclaimed. " And I will tell you another 
 thing : I have arranged to have my will re-drawn, 
 so that you should inherit my wealth, which he has 
 forfeited by his conduct. If you persist in this 
 insane folly I will give you nothing!" 
 
 Eva laughed, actually laughed at him. 
 
 "When Roland is ready he will come for me," she 
 said. " He will come for me, and I shall go with 
 him. He is under no obligations to you now. You 
 cannot frighten him any more. Yes, you may as 
 well understand." 
 
 Mr. Linnette stared stupidly at the girl. 
 
 "Would you give up a million dollars for him?" 
 he asked, gutturally. 
 
 " Indeed, yes ! A hundred millions !" 
 
 It rose to his lips to tell her that she might go 
 from under his roof at once ; that he would harbor 
 such an ungrateful thing no longer ; but he re- 
 strained himself. Before proceeding to such an 
 extremity he wanted to talk with Mrs. Warren. 
 
 He rose, hesitated a moment, tried to speak, and 
 then left the chamber. He had accomplished 
 nothing, and less than nothing. 
 
 And Tom Hobbs knew as much, before a word 
 was spoken, when his employer re-entered the 
 library and found him there, smoking his pipe in 
 3ilenc.
 
 " OONFOUWD HIS MONBY !" 193 
 
 CHAPTER XX. , 
 
 " CONFOUND HIS MONEY !" 
 
 When Guy met Maud Arline on the evening fol- 
 lowing the troubles in Mr. Linnette's office he gave 
 her a rather full account of what had occurred there, 
 besides narrating as much as was necessary of the 
 circumstances which had led up to the final catas- 
 trophe. The girl listened silently as he told the 
 story of Eva Warren, of Roland's wild infatuation 
 for her, of his uncle's wrath, of the letter sent to his 
 care, and of the complete rupture between the rela- 
 tions. She hardly tasted the food set before her, 
 though her appetite for the palatable French dinner 
 which they were now in the habit of taking together 
 was generally good. Guy was flattered by the close 
 attention she gave him. and rattled on for fully ten 
 minutes, pausing only long enough to take an occas- 
 ional mouthful of the soup or fish. 
 
 " I was so sorry that I didn't know what to do," 
 he said, after describing the manner in which Ro- 
 land and he had left the office. " He says I'm not 
 the least bit to blame, but I can't help thinking I 
 am." 
 
 He looked at Maud as if he wanted her opinion on 
 the subject, and she replied, in a low voice, that she 
 could not see how he could have acted differently. 
 
 ** I am glad to hear you say so," said he, as if re-
 
 194 LOYE AT SBVKlfTT. 
 
 lieved. "He has done so much for me that I shall 
 always feel indebted to him. But now I have some- 
 thing to tell you that will, it is possible, interest you 
 even more than the recital I have already made. It 
 concerns yourself." 
 
 Maud roused herself from the lethargy into which 
 she had fallen and inquired what Dalton meant. 
 
 "When we found ourselves, both together, thrown 
 out upon the world," he answered, " we went down 
 to his rooms and held a council of war. The agree- 
 ment that we reached was to share everything we 
 had and all we could earn, for he is going to look 
 for work as well as I. Our greatest watchword 
 necessarily being economy, we began to consider 
 what was the most frugal way of living, outside of a 
 cheap boarding-house, which Roland would not 
 think of for a moment. We finally decided to rent 
 a low-priced flat, and to engage a housekeeper." 
 
 The girl's eyes opened wider as she heard this 
 statement. Guy noticed their peculiar expression, 
 and stopped to inquire whether she saw any objec- 
 tions to the plan. 
 
 " I am afraid a good housekeeper, such as you 
 would require, is not the easiest thing to find," she 
 said. " You need an experienced woman, to begin 
 with ; one who would look out for your interests ; 
 and you could not afford, I suppose, to pay very high 
 wages." 
 
 Guy was obliged to laugh at her description. 
 
 "I think we know just where the right person can 
 be found," he replied. " She certainly has had ex- 
 perience, for she was employed several months in a
 
 OOHFOUHD HIS MONBT !" 195 
 
 country hotel. She would look out for our interests, 
 because she knows us intimately and would share 
 our home on equal terms. As for compensation, she 
 is not at the present time earning much more than 
 her living. She would be much better off managing 
 a home of her own, for such it really would be, besides 
 doing a genuine kindness to two stranded young 
 men." 
 
 It was more than a minute before Maud spoke 
 again. She could not fail to understand that he 
 referred to her, and at first she shrank from the pro- 
 position with a vague dread. More than this, she did 
 not know as she had a right to live under the same 
 roof with Mr. Linnette's nephew. It was hardly 
 keeping faith with his uncle. However, since their 
 rupture, the latter would have little further interest 
 in him so far as she was concerned. 
 
 She remembered also, very vividly, the nervous 
 tension at which Roland had kept her when she 
 officiated as his waitress at Montvale. But if he was 
 as deeply in love with Miss Warren as his actions 
 implied, he would not be likely to trouble her much. 
 To tell the truth, she was very tired of her milliner's 
 shop, where the promised advance in wages had not 
 materialized. Her solitary room when Guy was 
 not there was excessively lonely. The only bright 
 spot in her existence was the dinners they took 
 together, and these would be lost if he adopted his 
 housekeeping plan and she did not share it. It would 
 be delightful, after the discomforts she had suffered, 
 to have a home, no matter how poor or humble.
 
 LOVE AT SEVKNTT. 
 
 "You mean me," she said, looking up at hf 
 companion. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, earnestly, " that is just what I 
 mean. Roland was the one who first thought of 
 you, but I saw in an instant what a fine thing it 
 would be. Neither of us has anything to brag of in 
 the way of expectations, but we shall do our best. 
 If you say it is settled we will look for aflat immedi- 
 ately, and begin to pick out the pans and kettles for 
 your new kitchen." 
 
 Maud wanted to think of the matter for another 
 day, but Guy was so persistent, and represented the 
 scheme in such bright colors, that before he left her 
 that night she had given her full consent. 
 
 Within a week the flat was secured, a set of diminu- 
 tive rooms up three flights of stairs on Sixth Street, 
 overlooking some picturesque if not over-clean back 
 yards of the neighborhood. When Roland's furni- 
 ture was moved in, and the necessary purchases 
 made, the place looked remarkably cosy. There was 
 a striking incongruity between some of the expen- 
 sive things he brought and some of the very cheap 
 ones they had to purchase, but all three of the new 
 tenants were in too good humor to find anything 
 but amusement in this fact. A diamond pin had 
 been sacrificed at the first start to replenish the 
 exchequer, and it was announced with positive glee 
 that a balance of $77 was in the treasury, with every- 
 thing paid for, including an advance month's rent of 
 the premises. 
 
 It was admitted on all sides that Maud developed 
 wonderful capacity. Roland declared with enthu-
 
 "OONFOUHD HIS MONET P 197 
 
 siasm that he had never dined better, even in the days 
 when he made the grand tour. The coffee she pre- 
 pared in the morning was decidedly superior, he 
 solemnly averred, to that served by any femme de 
 chambre in dear Paree. He liked to sit in the kitchen 
 and watch her, with her sleeves rolled up, at the 
 dish-pan or the bread-board, when Guy was out 
 scouring the town in search of something to do. 
 And his manners were so good, and his temper so 
 equable, that he became as agreeable a companion 
 as could be asked. 
 
 He had a shrewd way of seeming to admit Guy's 
 proprietorship in Maud, though he never actually 
 made any allusion to it. Believing that they en- 
 joyed themselves better alone, he got into the habit, 
 when the six o'clock dinner was over, of going out 
 " to see a friend," and seldom returning before ten 
 at the earliest. But if he heard that Guy intended 
 to walk out with Maud, he would take a book or 
 magazine and settle himself in their bijou of a 
 parlor, announcing that he would spend the evening 
 at home. The apprehensions that Dalton had felt 
 were soon lulled into perfect repose by the admirable 
 conduct of his friend. 
 
 Though Roland did not apply in person for any 
 situation, he wrote a number of letters in response 
 to newspaper advertisements. One of the reasons 
 he gave for remaining at home so much during the 
 day was that he wanted to be in when the mail 
 arrived. If he were sent for in haste, he wished to 
 be ready to respond. But the letters he deposited in 
 the box over the way were much more numerous
 
 198 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 than those which the postman brought. The only 
 one he was sure of came three times a week from 
 Montvale and was answered as regularly. 
 
 In one of these letters he learned of the visit that 
 Mr. Linnette made to Eva, though she did not give 
 a full account of all that passed between them. 
 " He assured me," she wrote, " that you were a very 
 naughty fellow, but I refused to listen, though I fear 
 he had some basis of truth for what he wanted to 
 say. I told him to his face that I loved you ; that 
 nothing would ever make me change ; and that as 
 soon as you were ready for me I should marry you. 
 Then he threatened, saying that he had intended to 
 leave me all his money, but that now I shall get noth- 
 ing. As if that would make any difference ! I fear 
 he will be unpleasant to Mamma, and perhaps she 
 will join forces with him. People used to say he 
 meant to marry her. I wish he would, for she wor- 
 ries me very much. She is so afraid of poverty that 
 she lies awake nights thinking of it. Keep up good 
 courage, darling. All will come out right in time." 
 
 In a subsequent letter she made the interesting 
 statement that Tom Hobbs had asked Charlotte for 
 Roland's address, and that the girl, suspecting some 
 trick of Mr. Linnette's, had given him an evasive 
 reply, pretending that she did not know it. This 
 set Roland to thinking. He had known Tom from 
 babyhood. They had been unusually good friends, 
 and he did not believe anything would persuade the 
 old man to injure him. If Hobbs wanted his address 
 it must be for some good reason. At dinner that 
 evening he talked the matter over with Dalton.
 
 " CONFOUHD HIS MOKET !" 199 
 
 " He is a shrewd old fellow," said he, " and there 
 is a possibility that he has something of importance 
 to tell me. He's a poor hand at letter writing, and 
 the best way to get at the bottom of the matter 
 would be to see him personally. But the trouble is 
 he's not much of a traveller. He would consider a 
 journey to New York as serious a matter as I should 
 one to Australia. I don't think he's been ten miles 
 from Montvale in thirty years. For me to go to 
 him has its difficulties and dangers. So you see I 
 really don't know what to do." 
 
 Dalton looked as if the problem was too deep for 
 him, while Maud, on the other side of the table, 
 expressed sympathy in her sober face. 
 
 "I say, Guy ! Couldn't you run up there for a 
 day or two ?" exclaimed Roland, suddenly. 
 
 " I ?" said Dalton. 
 
 " To be sure. You would not run the slightest 
 risk. Hobbs may have something to say that we 
 ought to hear. And then I could even arrange an 
 interview for you with Eva ! They will not watch 
 her so closely when they know I'm out of town." 
 
 Guy was much confused at these propositions. It 
 was not at all clear that he could accomplish any- 
 thing by the journey. But he wanted to please 
 Roland, and he responded at once that he would go. 
 
 " I shall be only too happy," he said. " Tell me 
 what you wish me to do." 
 
 Miss Arline moved her chair back a little from the 
 table, and waited for the conversation to proceed. 
 The young men had no secrets from her. 
 
 " Here is the case," said Roland, in a business-
 
 200 LOVE AT BSTENTT. 
 
 like tone. "My uncle has threatened me with disin- 
 heritance. When I told him to go to the devif with 
 his money, and give it to whom he pleased, he re- 
 plied that he meant to will it all to Miss Eva War- 
 ren. That did not sound so terribly, for in the 
 course of time I felt pretty certain to get it back 
 again. To prevent this possibility he has informed 
 the young lady that if she ever becomes my wife lie 
 will cut her off also. Now," proceeded Roland, 
 placing both his elbows on the table, and looking 
 from one to the other of his auditors, " talk as \ve 
 may under the excitement of outraged pride, a mil- 
 lion dollars is worth preserving if it can be done 
 without too great a sacrifice. It appears that Tom 
 Hobbs has some communication to make to me 
 Tom has an immense influence over Mr. Willard 
 Linnette. My uncle would do nothing so important 
 as the making of a new will without consulting Tom. 
 In my opinion that is exactly what the superinten- 
 dent wants to see me about. I will send him a note 
 by you, asking him to unveil the whole affair. Then 
 if it turns out to be anything requiring my presence 
 I shall go at once." 
 
 Guy was rather surprised to see Roland's anxiety 
 about his uncle's fortune, remembering the haughty 
 way in which he had flung the gauntlet at his kins- 
 man's feet. It was true, however, as he said, that 
 one might get over-excited and think better of 
 things, when time had cooled him off. The ill-luck 
 in finding a situation where he could earn something, 
 had, no doubt, affected his views.
 
 "CONFOTTZfD HIS MONET!" 201 
 
 "Do you wish me to indicate in what way you 
 would modify your position ?" asked Guy. 
 
 " Modify my position !" 
 
 "Yes, in order to save the money." 
 
 Roland struck his fist heavily on the dining-table. 
 
 " Confound his money ! I don't want that old 
 man to make a fool of himself, that's all. When he 
 threw me up I didn't say a word. It's a different 
 thing when the loss is Eva's. If I'm not to have the 
 property I want her to get it." 
 
 " So that you can share it with her later," said 
 Dalton, insinuatingly. 
 
 Roland could not help laughing, like one detected 
 in a sly game. 
 
 " Well, that's not so criminal, is it ?" he said. " My 
 uncle is growing aged. I don't understand what has 
 set him so severely against me. If he hadn't ac- 
 quired a prejudice from some unknown source he 
 would never have been so violent. Hobbs knows 
 him like a book and may have a key to the riddle." 
 
 Guy indicated his belief that this might prove 
 true, and the pair then proceeded to plan a way by 
 which he could meet Miss Warren. 
 
 " What shall I say to her if I'm able to get within 
 speaking distance ?" Guy asked. 
 
 " Oh, I leave that to you," was the reply. " You 
 know the entire situation. She will ask you a hun- 
 dred questions, which you must use your judgment 
 in answering. Touch lightly on the fact that I am 
 still a distinguished member of the Knights of Rest. 
 If she don't think that any too creditable of me, and 
 believes it's easy to fall into a salaried position in
 
 202 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 this town, let her come here and try. Now, the 
 sooner you go, the better. I am impatient to hear 
 what Hobbs has to say. Why can't you start 
 to-morrow ?" 
 
 <; I can," replied Daltoo. 
 
 " And will you ?" 
 
 " I will."
 
 GUT TAKES A JOURNET. 203 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 GUY TAKES A JOURNEY. 
 
 The proprietor of Montvale was ill at ease. 
 Though the postmaster and himself were thrown 
 completely off the true scent by the plan which had 
 been adopted, he felt certain that Eva was sending 
 letters to his nephew and receiving replies. The 
 girl's cheerfulness at the table, the only place where 
 he now saw her, convinced him that he was being 
 outwitted. Since the night when he went to her 
 chamber she had only spoken to him in the briefest 
 manner, and the quietness in the dining-room at 
 meal-time was oppressive. Mrs. Warren, though she 
 did her best, could not add anything to her em- 
 ployer's stock of information. Eva was uniformly 
 courteous to her mother, but managed to evade a 
 direct answer to all questions. 
 
 "What an idea!" she would exclaim, when the 
 matter of letter-writing was mentioned. " Doesn't 
 all the mail for the house pass through your 
 hands ?" 
 
 Mr. Linnette could not help talking occasionally 
 abaut his troubles with old Tom Hobbs. He did 
 not receive much sympathy from that eccentric 
 person, but it was better even to be abused than to 
 be without any confidant whatever. Thanks to 
 Tom, the threatened changes in the will had not j"*
 
 S04: LOVB AT SEVENTY. 
 
 been made. Hobbs insisted that the present was no 
 time for alterations. Mr. Linnette, he said, should 
 at least wait until he had made up his mind whom 
 to sacrifice and whom to benefit before he set his 
 lawyers at work. 
 
 There was so much sense in this suggestion that 
 the manufacturer could not help acting upon it ; 
 though he remarked, with a grimace, that it would 
 not be agreeable if some complaint should carry 
 him off, leaving all his property to be handed over 
 to his scamp of a nephew. To which Hobbs replied 
 that he did not look like a man liable to sudden 
 death, and that he was quite as likely to outlive 
 both his former intended beneficiaries as to precede 
 them to the other world. 
 
 While laboring to secure the longest delay pos- 
 sible, in the interest of Roland, for whom he had 
 always entertained a warm liking, Hobbs grew un- 
 easy over the present financial condition of the 
 young man. He thought it a great hardship to be 
 deprived of his income, after the way he had been 
 brought up, with no alternative but work, or some 
 disreputable method of getting a living. If Roland 
 found the former plan too difficult, it was not impos- 
 sible that he would be driven to the latter. It was 
 with this in mind that Hobbs tried to get Roland's 
 address from Eva's maid. He had lived a thrifty- 
 life and had a snug little sum laid by. He wanted 
 to offer assistance out of his own funds to enable 
 Roland to tide over the emergency, which he could 
 not help believing would be only temporary. 
 
 To effect this result it was necessary to move with
 
 OUT TAKES A JOURNEY. 205 
 
 caution. Willard Linnette would not be likely to 
 fancy a direct interference in his affairs. Hobbs did 
 not like Eva well enough to confide too much in her, 
 and when his attempt failed with Charlotte he was 
 at a total loss which way to turn. But one very 
 dark night, just as he was about to retire, the door- 
 bell of his house was rung. On being called he 
 found Guy Dalton awaiting him, with a letter from 
 the " young master" in his hand. 
 
 " And so he sent you, clear from New York !'* 
 said Hobbs, when he had read the brief note of intro- 
 duction. " Come in and sit down. It's almost nine 
 o'clock and I was going to bed. How did you get 
 here so late ? I suppose you came on the six o'clock, 
 and have been to supper at the hotel ?" 
 
 " No, sir," replied Dalton. " I did not wish any- 
 one at Montvale to set me ; so I left the train at 
 Ellsworth, where I got a lunch, and then walked 
 over." 
 
 Hobbs eyed him intently. He looked a great deal 
 better than he used, when he was employed in the 
 Works. Life in the city evidently agreed with him. 
 It was a long walk from Ellsworth. 
 
 "Walked over?" repeated Hobbs. "Why, it's 
 seven miles !" 
 
 "It didn't seem so long. The walking is good. I 
 didn't mind it at all. I expect to go over the same 
 road again to-night when I leave you." 
 
 Hobbs protested that a walk of fourteen mile* 
 was altogether too long for anyone, but Guy smiled 
 confidently, saying that he was quite used to it, and, 
 in fact, enjoyed the prospect. He then, in response
 
 206 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 to inquiries, told the whole story of Roland's life 
 since he left the village, including, with particular 
 detail, an account of the trouble in his uncle's office. 
 
 "And doesn't he show the least desire to make 
 up ?" demanded the superintendent. 
 
 " No. But you must remember Mr. Linnette has 
 made no overtures, either." 
 
 " They are the biggest pair of fools ever born !" 
 replied Hobbs. " The old man is the worst one, of 
 course, but the boy is not far behind him. When 
 he knew what a crank his uncle was, why couldn't 
 he agree to anything, no matter what, until the wind 
 took another direction ? A million dollars doesn't 
 grow on every bush ! I've had all I could do to stop 
 the destruction of the will by which Linnette left his 
 property to his nephew, which would leave in force 
 an old one bequeathing everything to some cannibal 
 missionaries." 
 
 Guy remarked, as an explanation of his friend's 
 conduct, that he was devotedly attached to Miss 
 Warren, and could not bear to see anyone insult a 
 communication that she had written. 
 
 " Stuff !" ejaculated Hobbs. " Nothing but stuff ! 
 There are a thousand better girls, if he would only 
 look about him. He's exactly like his uncle always 
 wanting what he can't have, because he can't have it. 
 I've a good notion to tell you something for your 
 own information, mind you ! not his. Can you keep 
 a secret ?" 
 
 Dalton replied that he thought he could. 
 
 "Then keep this one. Will Linnette, seventy 
 years old as he is, loves that little girl himself. He
 
 GUT T-A.IK8 A JOUEKT. 207 
 
 would marry her to-morrow if she would accept 
 him." 
 
 The listener was plainly shocked. 
 
 " Are you sure ?" he gasped. 
 
 "Sure? Don't I know him, soul and body ? Was 
 there ever anything in his head he could keep from 
 me if he tried? Look at his pretenses. He brings 
 up his nephew's immoralities, and makes a great 
 fuss about them. But he knew all that long ago 
 and passed them off for what they are, the peccadil- 
 loes of a young man. Roland might have gone on 
 in his own way as long as he lived if he hadn't come 
 between the old man and his sweetheart. Now, this 
 must be a secret between us. I don't know what 
 would happen if Roland found it out." 
 
 Guy promised again to say nothing about the 
 matter. 
 
 " Well," continued Hobbs, " all this is not to the 
 point. What is the boy living on, and how does he 
 expect to meet his bills ?" 
 
 To this inquiry Guy responded with the utmost 
 frankness. He told how they had got along thus 
 far, but admitted that their funds were steadily 
 running lower and that there were no means in sight 
 for replenishing them. 
 
 "Then he must take a loan from me," said Hobbs, 
 with decision. " I don't ask him to accept a gift, 
 but he must borrow what he needs until something 
 better turns up. Tell him to write me, whenever he 
 wants anything, and I will see that he gets it." 
 
 The two men went out to the front yard together,
 
 208 LOVE AT SEVBNTY. 
 
 as Dalton said he must be going. The night was 
 
 not a clear one and they were unobserved. 
 
 " You weren't brought up around these parts, I 
 take it," remarked the elder man, with an inquisitive 
 inflection. 
 
 " No," said Guy. I used to live in Vermont." 
 
 " Ah ! I was up that way once. It was a long 
 while ago. What town did you come from, now ?" 
 
 " Ryegate." 
 
 Hobbs loosened his hold of the gate, which he had 
 pulled back, and the spring slammed it in its place 
 noisily. 
 
 " Sho ! You don't say. There's several of them 
 Ryegates. It wasn't East Ryegate, was it ?" 
 
 " Yes," was the listless reply. " It was East 
 Ryegate." 
 
 The moon peeped out of the clouds just enough 
 to light the faces of the two men. Guy was look- 
 ing at the ground, impatient to be off, as he had 
 another call to make that evening, and it was getting 
 late. Hobbs observed him with renewed interest. 
 
 " And your name is Dalton ?" he said, inter- 
 rogatively. 
 
 " Y-e-s." 
 
 " Did you ever hear," began Hobbs, slowly, " of a 
 family up that way by the name of Lincoln ?" 
 
 Guy raised his eyes, with quick suspicion in their 
 gaze, and slowly responded in the affirmative. 
 
 " There were two women of that name there once," 
 soliloquized the superintendent. " One of them 
 died, a long time ago. The other" 
 
 * Died, too."
 
 GUT TAKES A JOURNEY. 209 
 
 " Did she ?" said Hobbs. " How long ago was 
 that ?" 
 
 " Eight years, I should think," replied Dalton. 
 Then he took several steps that brought him outside 
 the gate, and with a short " Good-by," started on 
 the Ellsworth road. 
 
 A village clock was striking ten. Guy felt reason- 
 ably certain that he had not been seen by any per- 
 son except Mr. Hobbs, since entering the precincts 
 of Montvale, the residents being of that rural order 
 who have a proverb that no honest person is out of 
 doors after nine at night. But though he started on 
 the road to Ellsworth he did not long continue in 
 that direction. As soon as he dared he bent his 
 steps by a circuitous route to the rear of Willard 
 Linnette's estate. 
 
 A letter from her lover had informed Eva Warren 
 that Guy would be in Montvale that evening, and 
 had asked her to see that Charlotte kept watch at 
 the familiar door in the wall that had played such 
 an important part before in the meetings of the 
 young couple. The girl was more than anxious to 
 communicate with this messenger, and no place 
 seemed safer for the purpose than her own rooms, 
 now again free from the suspicion of those who had 
 watched her. The maid was on the alert, and her 
 ears detected the first sound that was made on the 
 panel. The visitor was smuggled through the dark- 
 ness, and reached Eva's chamber without attracting 
 the attention of anyone else. 
 
 As Guy's eyes fell on his hostess, he thought he 
 had never seen anything so lovely. She was arrayed
 
 210 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 entirely in white, her favorite. Her complexion, re- 
 minding him of a creamy rose tinged with pink, set 
 off the bright eyes that glowed with pleasure and 
 anticipation. 
 
 " So this is Mr. Dalton ?" 
 
 Charlotte had left the room promptly, and they 
 were quite alone. In a moment they were talking 
 together on the matters in relation to which he had 
 come. The girl's perfect self-possession made it 
 easy for him to converse with her. He felt before 
 he had been in the house ten minutes as if he had 
 known her for years. She told him her story in the 
 frankest manner, and asked him a thousand ques- 
 tions about Roland and himself. 
 
 Everything was progressing nicely, when Guy pre- 
 cipitated an entirely new phase of the discussion by 
 a slip of the tongue, the simple mention of the word 
 "Maud," in referring to the new household that the 
 young men had set up. 
 
 " Maud?" echoed the girl, quickly. 
 
 "Yes," he answered, realizing instantly that a new 
 quality had come into her voice. " Our house- 
 keeper." 
 
 " And Arline ?" asked Eva. " Is her name 
 Arline ?" 
 
 Guy stammered that it was. 
 
 " She was at the Montvale House formerly, I be- 
 lieve," mused Eva. 
 
 He indicated that she was right in her statement. 
 And he wished heartily that he had been more 
 careful.
 
 OUT TAKES A JOURNEY. 211 
 
 " How did they come together ?" she inquired, 
 suspiciously. 
 
 Finding that he had put his foot in it, Guy did 
 the best he could by claiming Maud as his own 
 friend. He went on to describe her situation in the 
 great city, hardly able to earn enough to keep her 
 body and soul together. He wanted to work on 
 Eva's sympathies for a sister in distress, but only 
 the belief that her lover had no connection with the 
 matter would have allayed her rising resentment. 
 
 " Then it was you and not Roland who suggested 
 her," she said, apparently much relieved. "Mr. 
 Linne-tte told me their names were coupled in a 
 hateful way while here ; and though, of course, I did 
 not believe there was warrant for it, I am naturally 
 surprised to hear they were living under the same 
 roof as one might say, in one family. It is strange," 
 she added, musingly, " that he never spoke of her in 
 any of his letters." 
 
 It flashed across Guy's mind at this moment that 
 it was Roland who suggested the engagement of 
 Miss Arline, and a spasm of doubt took possession 
 of his brain. 
 
 " He may not have thought it of enough conse- 
 quence," he replied, trying to crush the unpleasant 
 feeling. " I did not know there was any talk about 
 them here, though. When I was at the hotel I am 
 sure I heard nothing." 
 
 Eva was suffering under the lash of disappoint- 
 ment that such an interesting bit of news should 
 have come to her in this roundabout way. Roland 
 had referred to his housekeeper, without giv : Mg
 
 212 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 the least intimation that he had ever known her 
 before. 
 
 " This is what his uncle said to me," she answered. 
 " She was asked to leave Montvale because Roland's 
 influence over her was not good." 
 
 Up to this instant Dalton had placed not the least 
 credence in this allegation. He had regarded it, in 
 the words of his friend, as a ridiculous surmise on 
 Willard Linnette's part. But now a hundred little 
 things occurred to him that pointed in an opposite 
 direction. He knew that Roland was no saint. He 
 remembered that he had remained at home most of 
 the time since the housekeeping had begun, under 
 one pretext or another, thus being thrown into the 
 unrestricted company of the young woman in ques- 
 tion. As for Maud, it was almost impossible to 
 believe anything really wrong of her, but who could 
 say what influences one so used to charming mem- 
 bers of her sex might have brought to bear ? In the 
 collection of photographs which Roland had shown 
 him there were faces as sweet as hers ; and yet 
 
 "We have happened to exchange information of 
 mutual interest," said Eva, with a smile, for she saw 
 the frown that covered his brow, and wished to dis- 
 sipate it as soon as possible. " I do not believe, how- 
 ever, that it is of much account. While it is true Mr. 
 Linnette urged Mr. Hanson to send her away, and 
 furnished the money, and gave the reason I have 
 repeated, that proves nothing. He has taken a dis- 
 like to his nephew that renders him blind to reason. 
 As it is evident Miss Arline does not share his fear- 
 else she would not be where she is we may as well
 
 OUT TAKES A JOURNEY. 213 
 
 call it a baseless charge and let it pass. Probably 
 she was not unwilling to exchange the dull life she 
 led here for the brighter prospects of the city, and 
 cared little how the exchange was made." 
 
 Dalton was silent. He detested double dealing 
 from the bottom of his soul. While he meant to 
 defend Roland to this girl, he doubted him more and 
 more. Why had he picked out Maud to be their 
 housekeeper? And was there anything in this 
 journey on which they had sent him, leaving them so 
 many hours alone ? 
 
 " I can quite sympathize with her," pursued the 
 musical voice of his companion. " I often feel that 
 I would accept almost any terms to get away from 
 this place. Her position is far preferable to mine, for 
 she is free, while I am under constant surveillance. 
 If release does not come soon I shall take matters 
 into my own hands, and actually run away." 
 
 Guy could hardly answer her. If his suspicions 
 were in the least justified he never would speak to 
 Roland again. He rose, with the remark that it was 
 time he set out on his walk to Ellsworth, if he was 
 to catch the early train. 
 
 " You were kind to come," said Eva, sweetly. " I 
 shall never forget it. It seems almost like meeting 
 Roland. Tell him the sight of you, and what you 
 have said to me, has given me new strength and 
 patience. But tell him also," and the pink ran riot 
 over her fair complexion, " that he must not make 
 me wait too long." 
 
 These ingenuous words impressed Guy with her 
 perfect innocence more than the most modest expres-
 
 214 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 sions could have done. Her nature was evidently 
 wholly unspoiled and simple. Pressing his hand 
 warmly Eva gave him into Charlotte's charge, and 
 he escaped without detection by the avenue through 
 which he had entered the grounds. 
 
 "He's a splendid fellow!" was Eva's comment, 
 when her maid returned. " And did you notice 
 how handsome he is ? His eyes are really poetic, 
 and his voice is as gentle as a woman's. I hope 
 Roland will send him here again." 
 
 Then she added, after a momentary pause 
 "You used to see Maud Arline, who lived at the 
 hotel. What kind of a girl should you say she 
 was?"
 
 ONE KISS TOO MANY. 215 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 ONE KISS TOO MANY. 
 
 It was only twenty hours from the time that Guy 
 Dalton left New York when he returned to it. Only 
 twenty hours that Roland and Maud had been to- 
 gether. But a great deal can be accomplished in 
 twenty hours. 
 
 Roland did not plan anything, either. Guy was 
 quite wrong in his surmise that a deep plot had been 
 laid and that he was its victim. Nevertheless, the 
 result was not pleasant to any of them, and all on 
 account of the strangest coincidence imaginable. 
 
 To tell the truth, Roland intended to behave in 
 the most perfect manner. He could not have acted 
 better that first day had Maud been his sister. 
 Lunch was taken at a restaurant, and when he re- 
 turned he suggested a very simple meal for the even- 
 ing, as he had eaten late and Guy was away. Any- 
 thing handy would answer, he said. Then, as the 
 girl began her preparations, he sat down near her, 
 talking in the good-natured, familiar way to which 
 she had grown accustomed. 
 
 As he watched her a sense of her beauty grew upon 
 him. How little she depended upon artificial adorn- 
 ment ! That was the true beauty the kind that 
 dress does not accentuate unduly. He made her 
 talk about herself, and execrated with her the heart-
 
 216 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 less guardian who had compelled her to seek her 
 own livelihood the moment her little fortune was ex- 
 hausted. The story was a very pathetic one, and 
 Roland was moved to compassion and indignation 
 in about equal measure. 
 
 "And then," he said, "when you found a shelter, 
 my uncle had to interfere and send you away on the 
 ground that I might fall in love with you. How 
 absurd !" 
 
 Maud blushed to her finger-tips. 
 
 " He's a queer old fellow !" continued Roland. 
 "I'd like to know what he does want. He must 
 intend me for a bachelor, like himself. He's just as 
 set against my loving his ward, you know, as he was 
 against you. But 1 ought to do him partial justice. 
 I was getting to be a little too fond of you, 
 Maud." 
 
 The girl, whose hands were in the flour, making 
 biscuit, cast a reproachful glance at the speaker. 
 
 "It is unkind to say that," she remarked, in a low 
 voice. 
 
 He rose and took a step toward her, with a very 
 sober face. 
 
 " Unkind, Maud ! I unkind to you ! Do you 
 think I would say a word you did not like, if I knew 
 it ? You think too hard of me for some of the 
 things I said and did at Hanson's. The fact is, I 
 liked you immensely and I do yet " 
 
 He saw that her lip was beginning to quiver. 
 
 " Not quite in the way of a lover, you know," he 
 went on, desperately. " Only as a friend a very 
 good friend. Hang it, Maud ! I wish I could make
 
 OWE KISS TOO MANT. 217 
 
 you understand me ! I'm afraid I never shall. 
 We'd better drop it, before we get into deep 
 water.'* 
 
 With this remark he left her abruptly, and walked 
 into the next room, where he took up a book and 
 busied himself with it until she called him to dinner. 
 He was not hungry in the least, and only touched 
 the daintiest bits, washing them down with a half 
 bottle of ordinary claret. The girl's appetite was 
 not much better, and soon he retreated to the 
 parlor again and left her to "do " the dishes. When 
 he fancied she must be through with her labors he 
 went out into the dining-room, and found her sitting 
 there, sewing. Her head was bent low over her 
 work and tears had fallen upon it. 
 
 " Bring that into the parlor, won't y< u ?" he asked, 
 not noticing particularly what she was doing. "I'm 
 awfully lonesome. If you don't come I shall have 
 to go and hunt up a theatre, to kill the evening." 
 
 She came obediently, feeling that he was her 
 employer, and had a right to command her. A 
 ready handkerchief removed the traces of weeping 
 from her eyes. Linnette sat silent for some minutes 
 and then exclaimed 
 
 "Do you hate me very, very much ?" 
 
 She looked up in intense surprise. 
 
 " Why should I hate you ?" 
 
 "Oh, there are reasons enough. If I had never 
 insisted on your waiting on me at Hanson's you 
 would be there yet." 
 
 "Do you think I was so entirely happy there?" 
 she asked, smiling in spite of herself.
 
 218 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 " No, but here you are utterly wretched. I am an 
 unreasonable fellow, I know that very well. No- 
 body likes me, and nobody ought to. I wish I was 
 like Guy. I don't wonder you're in love with him. 
 When you're his wife you'll be a happy woman 
 indeed." 
 
 She started at the statement, and then asked why 
 he thought she would ever be Dalton's wife. 
 
 " That's a queer question," he replied. " Isn't it 
 settled ?" 
 
 She laid down the sewing in her lap and fixed her 
 fearless eyes upon him. 
 
 " If it is, it has been without consulting me." 
 
 " But you can have no doubt you certainly are 
 lovers. Pshaw ! You're only trying me, Maud. 
 You wouldn't say he never mentioned marriage to 
 you ?" 
 
 She hesitated, wondering how far she was justified 
 in answering such inquiries. 
 
 " No, he never did," she replied at last. 
 
 " That's strange," exclaimed Roland, showing his 
 astonishment in his voice and look. " Why, you've 
 been together about all his spare time for weeks 
 and weeks. What could he find to talk about, if not 
 love ?" 
 
 The color began to mount to her temples. 
 
 " I did not say he had never spoken of love" she 
 said. 
 
 What did she mean ? He looked at the girl 
 searchingly, but could make nothing of her ex- 
 pression. 
 
 " The man who speaks continually to a woman of
 
 ONI KISS TOO MAKY. 219 
 
 love, and never of marriage, is not one to be encour- 
 aged," he said, earnestly. " Yes, I would say the 
 same if he were my brother." 
 
 The helplessness of the girl smote the libertine 
 like a blow. In the heat of passion he had made 
 light of such situations in his day, but now he felt 
 as if he were the witness of the robbery of a house, 
 the kidnapping of a child. He had no volition 
 whatever, he was forced to the attitude he took by 
 the overpowering pressure from within. 
 
 " Maud," he cried, drawing his chair nearer to 
 her, " tell me, is it too late ?" 
 
 Quite startled at his manner, she could not 
 answer him, and he took her silence for a confession. 
 
 " I am so sorry !" he said, taking both her hands 
 in his. " But you shall be his wife I will make him 
 marry you ! Yes, as soon as he returns !" 
 
 She did not know the dark suspicion that was haunt- 
 ing him. But she could not leave his mind in the 
 condition she found it. She begged him to promise 
 that he would not speak to Guy about her. 
 
 "And you mean to tell me you are content ?" he 
 exclaimed. " You do not wisJi to marry him, is that 
 it ?" 
 
 " I do twt," she replied, positively. " I do not wish 
 to marry anyone." 
 
 The riddle was too deep. He looked at her for a 
 long time in silence. She took up her sewing again, 
 to engross her mind a little with it, and he watched 
 her as she plied the needle. How little one could 
 tell about a woman by seeing her face ! 
 
 He remembered a time, years ago, when he had
 
 220 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 met at the entrance of the Jardin de Paris a beauti- 
 ful girl, dressed in white, with the purest face he had 
 ever seen. And he had remarked to a friend that 
 someone should tell that innocent creature of the 
 infamous scenes which would soon dye her marble 
 cheeks with roses. And his friend had laughed and 
 told him that she was Mile. D'Alencelle, of the 
 Cirque. Unable to believe it, he had returned to 
 the place where the shameless dancers were giving 
 their exhibitions, and watched mademoiselle view 
 the worst of it unmoved. 
 
 The more he thought of Maud the more unbearable 
 it became, and he excused himself, saying he had an 
 engagement and must go out for an hour or two. 
 
 The cool air of the night revived him. He walked 
 far up town and then slowly back again. As he 
 neared his apartments he found it harder and harder 
 to enter the door, and he went off for another long 
 walk, which lasted until he heard a clock striking 
 twelve. Then he went deliberately to the Morton 
 House, engaged a room and threw himself, fully 
 dressed, upon the bed. 
 
 He thought of a hundred things in those few hours. 
 He was very angry at Dalton. Such affairs were 
 the exclusive privilege of wealth. It was outrageous 
 for a pauper to imitate his betters in this fashion. 
 Roland stirred himself up to a genuine rage. He 
 would have it out with Guy. He would tell him 
 his opinion of his conduct ! 
 
 But, with daylight, after some sleep that even his 
 ill-temper could not drive away, there came a 
 gentler feeling. Human nature was the same in rich
 
 01TE KISS TOO MANY. 221 
 
 and poor, high and low. He was himself too impe- 
 cunious now to criticise his equals. Maud was 
 handsome. If she had been thrown too completely 
 into Guy's company, who was more to blame than 
 the man who criticised him ? Roland rose, and 
 after making his toilet, walked briskly to his home, 
 determined to say no more about it. 
 
 The young housekeeper had also slept badly. 
 She knew that something she did not understand 
 what troubled Roland exceedingly, and realized 
 that the entire night had passed without his return. 
 Quite early she arose and went about her house- 
 hold affairs, making the coffee and taking in the 
 French rolls that the baker's boy left at her door. 
 When Roland came in he greeted her in the old way, 
 which reassured her, and they sat down to take their 
 coffee together. 
 
 " I met a friend and passed the night with him," 
 he explained, briefly. 
 
 With the mercurial temperament which mastered 
 him at all times, he soon went to the opposite 
 extreme. There was nothing to do but make the 
 best of it. Guy was a sly dog ! Roland laughed 
 and talked with Maud, coming into the kitchen 
 every little while and making himself entertaining. 
 When her work was done he sat with her in the 
 sitting-room and grew more good-natured than ever. 
 Why should he not be free with her, if he liked ? 
 A kiss from those red lips would not be wholly 
 unpleasant, and it would be no robbery if he could 
 secure one. 
 
 " I wonder what Guy has succeeded in finding
 
 222 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 out," he said, to keep up the conversation. "That 
 Tom Hobbs is a shrewd old fellow. And Eva ; I 
 hope he got in and out of the mansion safely. He 
 will be here, probably, this afternoon. I can't help 
 thinking, Maud, of what you told me yesterday. I 
 surely thought he was engaged to you. He ought 
 to be, that's all I've got to say. If I were in his 
 place I'd make you so secure nobody else should 
 ever put in a claim. And if it hadn't been for the 
 interference of my uncle, I'm not certain I shouldn't 
 have tried to win you myself." 
 
 Maud rose to get something from the mantel. As 
 she passed the young man he caught her in his arms 
 and drew her into his lap. The movement was so 
 unexpected that she had no chance to avoid the 
 embrace. His lips were on hers in a warm kiss, and 
 she was as nearless helpless for the moment as one 
 could well be. The time was badly chosen, how- 
 ever, and as Roland released her they were both 
 startled to see Guy Dalton standing by the door. 
 
 Maud turned scarlet, but Roland summoned a 
 loud laugh and cried out that they were caught that 
 time. 
 
 " How did you find things at Montvale ?" he 
 added, carelessly. " I am dying to hear your story." 
 
 He had no idea that Guy would make a serious 
 matter of what he had unluckily chanced to witness. 
 The obligation that the young fellow was under to 
 him would, he reasoned, outweigh any little feeling 
 he might have. He would tell him later that he 
 had acted on the spur of the moment and that Maud 
 was taken wholly by surprise. But he soon saw thar
 
 ONE KISS TOO MANY. 283 
 
 ^/alton did not intend to take the event in a light 
 
 manner. He stood there as if stunned, fora moment, 
 and then, without speaking, passed into his bedroom. 
 
 Miss Arline went to a window that gave on the 
 small courtyard, and pressed her face against the 
 pane. She was trembling. Linnette called out 
 "Guy !" twice, and receiving no answer, added in a 
 low tone, " Oh, then, go to the devil, if you want to 
 make such a fuss about it !" 
 
 Recovering herself, the girl withdrew to the 
 kitchen, and Roland walked into the parlor and 
 began reading the morning newspaper, though very 
 511 at ease. 
 
 An uncomfortable quarter-hour passed, and then 
 Dalton emerged from his room, dragging a trunk, 
 which he put into the public hall. Returning, he 
 brought out a satchel, and several other things, and 
 started to leave the flat. 
 
 " Don't be a fool !" cried Roland, coming to the 
 doorway. "If you'll give me half a chance, I can 
 explain everything to your satisfaction." 
 
 Dalton straightened himself to his full height. A 
 dangerous look came into his eyes, usually so soft 
 and pleasant. Roland stepped aside and the door 
 latched. 
 
 " y<?2/7/have to speak to him," he said to Maud r 
 going to the kitchen. " He'll not listen to me. He's 
 gone for a cab, I suppose, but you can stop him." 
 
 A look of intense suffering was on the girl's face,, 
 as she lifted her eyes to his. 
 
 "I could not," she said, simply. 
 
 " Nonsense !"
 
 224 LOTE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 4 * Not after what he saw." 
 
 Roland was full of contrition. 
 
 " Lay all the blame on me. Tell him the truth 
 I'll endorse anything you say. He mustn't leave )'ou 
 like this. I don't care for myself, but he has no 
 right to condemn you on such slight evidence." 
 
 The girl shook her head slowly and sadly. Find- 
 ing that he could do nothing with her, Linnette 
 went out into the hallway, to make one more trial 
 on his own account. The baggage was not where 
 he supposed it would be. On the lower floor he 
 encountered the janitor, who said he had brought it 
 down at Mr. Dalton's request, and had assisted in 
 putting it on a carriage that was passing. 
 
 Was ever anything accomplished so quickly? 
 Roland went out into the street, but no carriage 
 was visible in any direction. 
 
 "Well, Maud, he's gone," said he to Miss Arline, 
 when he reached his apartment again. "Gone like 
 the wind, nobody knows where." 
 
 The girl paused in her work, looking on the 
 floor. 
 
 "Then /must go, too," she said, quietly. 
 
 " You ? Certainly not ! He'll get over his fit in a 
 day or so, and be back again." 
 
 Maud put her fingers in the neck of her dress as if 
 it choked her. 
 
 " It will be better that I go. He will never be 
 friends with you while I stay here." 
 
 " Friends with me!" exclaimed the other, excitedly. 
 "That's of mighty small consequence. I must re- 
 store him to you !"
 
 **Hfi WILL DO IT FOB MB." 225 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 "HE WILL DO IT FOR M E.** 
 
 The silent anger that rises to white heat is 
 more dangerous than the kind that vents itself in 
 outward show. Guy Dalton knew what it was to 
 feel murder in his heart as he stood by the door of 
 his apartment and saw that couple so close together. 
 
 Knowing he was not expected on the earliest train, 
 he had gone softly up the stairs. He was hardly 
 surprised at the sight that met his gaze, but he knew 
 no course except to pack up and leave them. 
 
 To have uttered a word in reply to Roland's offer to 
 " explain " would have been to release the torrent of 
 rage that filled his being. Guy was afraid of him- 
 self at that moment. Only a thin veil separated his 
 self-control from the revenge to which a loud voice 
 called him. 
 
 He packed his things leisurely, like a man in a 
 dream ; took his baggage into the public hall ; hap- 
 pened to meet the janitor on the landing, and 
 secured his assistance in getting it downstairs ; saw 
 a cab passing ; and, before Linnette could reach him, 
 had gone out of sight, directing his driver to turn 
 several corners for the purpose of throwing possible 
 spies off his track. 
 
 He was nearly penniless, but at the time he did 
 not think of that. He only wanted to get beyond
 
 226 LOVE AT SEVElfTY. 
 
 the reach of those who had deceived him. He 
 directed the cabman to go as far as Twenty-eighth 
 Street and Seventh Avenue, and when that point was 
 reached he stopped and bought a newspaper, scanning 
 the columns in which rooms were advertised. A 
 little distance from the corner he found a chamber, 
 which he engaged, and as he appeared honest and 
 respectable, the landlady did not require him to pay 
 anything in advance. 
 
 He had eaten no breakfast, but he did not care for 
 any. He took a chair and sat for hours, in a dazed 
 sort of way, looking at the adjacent roofs. He was 
 in a state that closely resembled coma. At last 
 night came on. Long after dark he went to bed by 
 the light of the stars. In the morning he awoke, 
 cold and hungry. 
 
 Examining his purse he found less than a dollar in 
 it. He sought a cheap restaurant in the vicinity 
 and spent twenty cents for a breakfast. Having 
 nothing else to do he returned to his room and 
 relapsed into the listless attitude of the previous day. 
 At night he went out again to a frugal supper. 
 The next day he pursued the same course. 
 
 On the second morning he awoke with his 
 thoughts on Eva Warren. In his sleep he had seen 
 her sweet face, and she had asked him to come to 
 her. Yes, it was his duty to make the journey. 
 Roland had committed an irreparable wrong to that 
 girl, and she ought to know it. Procuring writing 
 materials at the desk of a restaurant where he went 
 for a cup of coffee, he indited a note stating that he 
 would be at Montvale either that night or the one
 
 "HB WILL DO IT FOU MK. M 227 
 
 following, and asking that Charlotte keep watch for 
 him at the door in the wall. This letter he mailed, 
 without stopping to think that it required money to 
 purchase a railroad ticket, and that the price of the 
 stamp was the last of his resources. 
 
 At noon, on starting for dinner, he recollected that 
 he was penniless. Literally his last cent was gone. 
 Discouraged, he tried to think what he could pawn 
 best. There was his trunk and his satchel, and the 
 thin overcoat that he wore on chilly evenings. He 
 hated to part with any of them, and he passed the 
 entire day without food. In the morning he lay 
 quite late. No breakfast awaited him, and he was 
 weak and tired. At eleven he dressed and descended 
 to the street from sheer ennui. 
 
 Growing hungrier every minute he walked about, 
 looking at the things in the shop windows. Bills of 
 fare in front of eating-houses had a fascination for 
 him. Dishes that he would have scorned ordinarily 
 took on a positive deliciousness as he read over their 
 names. " Baked beans !" How nice they would 
 taste ! " Stewed tripe !" A banquet fit for the gods 
 could be made of that material. He eyed the joints 
 of beef and mutton, and the fat turkeys displayed 
 in the provision stores, until his hunger grew so 
 acute that he had to move on. A whiff of air from 
 a kitchen freighted with the odors of cooking made 
 him dizzy. 
 
 At two o'clock he found himself in front of his 
 old place of employment, the office of the Montvale 
 Optical Company. He loitered as he passed, to see 
 if any of his former acquaintances were in sight.
 
 228 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 He did not mean to have them detect him, but the 
 cashier looked up and beckoned to him with a 
 smile. Dal ton shook his head, and was moving on, 
 when the man came to the door and called to him. 
 
 " I wish you would come in a minute," he said. 
 " There is a balance due you, and I want to get it off 
 the books." 
 
 The words rang in the hungry man's ear like the 
 whirling of a buzz-saw. 
 
 "Balance due me ?" he repeated, vaguely. 
 
 " Yes, twelve dollars, for the last week you were 
 here. It would be a convenience if you would take 
 it now." 
 
 Though Guy wanted that money as bad as he had 
 ever wanted anything, he held back. He hated to 
 touch a dollar belonging to Willard Linnette. But, 
 after all, he had earned it honestly. And he was 
 starving. 
 
 " How can there be a whole week's pay ?" he 
 asked. " I left on a Friday." 
 
 " You were discharged rather suddenly, you remem- 
 ber," smiled the cashier, " and in such cases it is 
 customary. I don't know but you could claim 
 another week, as you were entitled to notice ; but 
 twelve dollars is all I can give you in the absence of 
 instructions." 
 
 Satisfied with the explanation, Guy entered the 
 office and signed a receipt. The other clerks spoke 
 to him, in a casual way, saying that he was not look- 
 ing as well as when he left. The first thing he did 
 after getting the money was to seek a restaurant and 
 eat a hearty meal. Then he went to his room and
 
 "HE WILL DO IT FOR ME." 229 
 
 paid his landlady a week's rent. And after that he 
 took a satchel with some necessary clothing and 
 went to the depot, where he bought a ticket, and 
 took a seat in the train. 
 
 Alighting as before, at Ellsworth, he walked briskly 
 toward Montvale. As he approached the village it 
 was yet too early to think of gaining admittance to 
 the Linnette mansion, and the young man turned 
 into a by-road and paced up and down under the 
 overhanging branches of the tall trees till the lights 
 in the neighboring houses began to be extinguished. 
 Then he emerged from his concealment sufficiently 
 to gain a good view of the residence he sought, and 
 found that it appeared to be shrouded in total dark- 
 ness. He crept quietly to the rear of the grounds 
 and knocked gently on the door in the high brick 
 wall. Without an instant's delay it was opened 
 to him, and Charlotte's well-known features were 
 discernible in the dusky light. 
 
 No interference was found between this point and 
 the rooms that Miss Warren occupied. 
 
 " I received your letter this noon," said Eva, 
 greeting him in her sweetest manner. " Now, let 
 me hear what the latest trouble is. As Mr. Willard 
 Linnette has gone to the city, I presume it is some- 
 thing in relation to his visit there." 
 
 The excitement which he had undergone during 
 the previous few days had worn very much on Guy. 
 He shook his head slowly, to imply that her guess 
 was incorrect. Then she noticed that he was very 
 pale, and commented upon that fact. 
 
 " You are ill, I fear," she said. " Has something
 
 230 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 so terrible occurred, then ? Speak at once, and let 
 me know the worst." 
 
 He struggled for a few minutes with the things 
 that rushed into his mind. Now that he was with 
 her, the importance of every move began to force 
 itself upon his mind. She had shown a blind faith 
 in her lover, on the previous occasion, when alluding 
 to his uncle's accusations against him. How could 
 he know that she would give a more willing ear to 
 the statements he had come prepared to make ? 
 
 " I have had troubles serious ones of my own," 
 he replied, gravely. 
 
 He had counted well on the feminine trait of 
 curiosity, for she warmly urged him to confide in 
 her, saying she felt the strongest wish to know every- 
 thing that affected his welfare. She said this so 
 kindly, and with such a sympathy in her eyes, that 
 his voice choked as he began his story. 
 
 "When I was last here I told you that we were 
 living in an apartment together, and that a young 
 lady was acting as our housekeeper. You must have 
 gathered from what I said that she and I were on 
 very friendly terms. I was absent from New York 
 less than one complete day. When I returned " 
 
 His feelings overcame him at this juncture, and 
 he had to pause to recover himself. 
 
 " She was gone ?" suggested Eva, leaning toward 
 him, and speaking tremulously. 
 
 " No. There was a man, who professed the 
 greatest regard for me, and who knew my feelings 
 toward toward Miss Arline. I entered our apart- 
 ment unexpectedly to them, and the first sight that
 
 K HB WILL DO IT FOR MB." 231 
 
 met my eyes was my supposed friend with that 
 young woman in his arms, his lips pressed to hers." 
 
 Miss Warren had begun to tremble as if with a 
 deadly chill. The thought of doubting him never 
 entered her head. His tale was too evidently true. 
 
 "And the name of this man?" she asked, her 
 teeth chattering. 
 
 "Was Roland Linnette." 
 
 She uttered a low cry and covered her eyes. 
 
 " What did he say ?" she inquired, without look- 
 ing up. 
 
 " He said he would explain everything, if I would 
 listen to him," responded Dalton. " But I could not 
 bear to hold a conversation then. I was too much 
 afraid I might do him a mischief. I packed my 
 belongings at once and had them taken away and 
 I have seen neither of them since." 
 
 The revolution that acts the quickest of all is that 
 which takes place in the mind of a woman who dis- 
 covers the infidelity of the man she has learned to 
 love. Sometimes it takes the form of blind hate, 
 and she searches for a physical weapon with which 
 to strike the object of her wrath. Sometimes the 
 effect is like the erasure of the page in their lives on 
 which his image is imprinted. This was the effect 
 in Eva's case. 
 
 If Roland had held another girl in his arms and 
 touched her lips with his, he was no more to her, and 
 never could be. It was painful to learn of it, her 
 love and pride were equally injured ; but the chief 
 impression on her mind was one of a great vacancy. 
 For months she had thought of little else than this
 
 232 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 man. All her plans were made with him as the 
 central figure. Now the room in which she lived 
 was suddenly stripped of its garnishings, and noth- 
 ing but the bare walls confronted her. 
 
 " I am so sorry for you," she managed to say. 
 " You must have been very fond of her, and her 
 action is incomprehensible." 
 
 " It is not that," he replied. " I do not think, 
 now that I look back on it, that I really cared for 
 her. What crushed me was to think that he who 
 professed so much love for me could betray me as 
 soon as my back was turned. And I cannot tell 
 how long his plan was maturing. It was he who 
 suggested her as our housekeeper. Yes, you may as 
 well know. It was he who asked me to come here 
 on that errand. It makes me feel as if all the world 
 was false, as if there was no one whom I could 
 trust." 
 
 She assented with a thoughtful nod, and for some 
 time both were silent. Then she asked what had 
 brought him on to Montvale. 
 
 "I came to tell you," he answered. "I thought 
 you ought to know. And I had nothing else to do, 
 left as I am without work, without prospects, with- 
 out a home, and without a friend." 
 
 The extreme sadness with which he uttered these 
 words touched the girl deeply. 
 
 " Not without a friend, surely," she said, putting 
 her hand in his, with a delightfully graceful motion, 
 *' though I fear there is little that I can do to aid 
 you. Tell me your entire story, if you will be so 
 kind, and see if there is anything I can suggest."
 
 " HE WILL DO IT FOR ME." 233 
 
 Charmed by her manner, Guy was led to talk 
 about himself in a way he had never done to any 
 other person. She drew out of him the tale of his 
 life, from the earliest period he could remember up 
 to the present day. When he related his meeting 
 with Roland Linnette, and the care taken of him in 
 his illness, the girl paid the tribute of a tear to the 
 pathos of the narrative. 
 
 " I am glad to know Roland is not all bad," she 
 said. " I shall always think of him hereafter as one 
 who is dead, and I like to remember all the good 
 things I can of him. What do you suppose he will 
 do ? His uncle is not likely to relent, and he does 
 not seem able to find work." 
 
 Dalton reddened. 
 
 "That, at least, is no reflection on him," he re- 
 sponded. " I have tried as hard as he, if not harder, 
 and there seems to be nothing. Is .it not strange 
 that in a world so vast there should be no one in 
 want of a young man of fair talents, willing to labor 
 faithfully?" 
 
 Eva agreed with him perfectly. Then she said, 
 brightly, that she had an idea she could arrange the 
 matter now. Mr. Willard Linnette had been very 
 angry because she wished to become the wife of his 
 nephew, and had treated her coldly of late. When 
 she told him, as she intended to do forthwith, that 
 her engagement was at an end, he would resume 
 his fatherly attitude toward her, and she could get 
 anything from him she chose to ask. The position 
 in the New York office of the Optical Company
 
 234: LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 would then be given back to Roland without ques- 
 tion, or perhaps a much better one. 
 
 He did not answer, half pleased at the prospect 
 she held out to him, and half inclined to reject it 
 outright, because it seemed like charity, and from a 
 woman, too. 
 
 " He will do it for me," she repeated, confidently. 
 " When I go to him and call him ' Uncle ' again there 
 is nothing he can refuse. You cannot imagine how 
 fond he used to be of me, and only this matter of 
 Roland has ever made any trouble between us. 
 Stay in Montvale a few days, till he returns, and I 
 can almost guarantee to arrange it." 
 
 Stay in Montvale ! More easily said than done, he 
 thought. He had not enough money to pay his 
 board at the hotel, aside from his disinclination to 
 go there and be subjected to cross-questionings. As 
 he was thinking this over, and wondering whether he 
 might not as well return to New York and wait there 
 for Eva's communication, in case she accomplished 
 anything, the girl clapped her hands together in 
 ecstacy, like the child she was. 
 
 "I have thought of the most romantic thing !" she 
 exclaimed. "You can stay here, in this house, just 
 as well as not !" 
 
 " In this house !" he repeated, surprised out of 
 himself. 
 
 "Exactly. This wing is never visited except by 
 Charlotte and me. You can take one of the cham- 
 bers and remain as long as necessary. I will see that 
 plenty of food is smuggled to you. In that way you 
 will be handy at all times for consultation, and when-
 
 "HE WILL DO IT FOE ME." 235 
 
 ever you wish to leave, you have only to wait for 
 darkness. I will even have my meals sent up, so 
 that we can dine together ! You have no idea how 
 thoroughly I am my own mistress that is, in every- 
 thing except the thing I most crave, the right to 
 leave the grounds and see the world. By-and-by, 
 perhaps you can help me to that, too." 
 
 It was certainly an agreeable inducement that she 
 held out to him. And after a reasonable time, dur- 
 ing which he raised insignificant objections, Dalton 
 agreed to remain for the night, at least, and to leave 
 the matter of a longer stay to be discussed the next 
 morning.
 
 236 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 "POVERTY is A WEARY THING!** 
 
 The poet who sang, " Oh, poverty is a weary 
 thin-g !" made no mistake. Maud Arline had felt its 
 sting many times since the day she was left, an 
 orphan, to the tender mercies of her guardian. She 
 had felt it when turned out the day her small fortune 
 was exhausted, and when she had to take a menial's 
 position in the hotel at Montvale. Then had come 
 Roland, with his strange manners, so entirely differ- 
 ent from anything she had ever experienced. And 
 when she had been in his company less than a month, 
 the inevitable happened. She fell violently in love 
 with the young gentleman. 
 
 At first she would not admit this, even to herself, 
 and, above all things, she did not wish him to guess 
 it. It was preposterous ! He was heir to a fortune 
 estimated at hundreds of thousands. She had liter- 
 ally nothing but the plain garments she wore. He 
 had the legions of friends that wealth always carries 
 in its train. She had no one on whom she could 
 make the slightest claim. Since her reduction to a 
 place in the "servant " class, she had become separ- 
 ated entirely from all she had formerly known. 
 Only in story books would such a man stoop to lift 
 such a girl to his side as an equal. And yet she 
 loved him.
 
 " POVERTY IS A WEARY THING !" 237 
 
 She had supposed, from what Miss Giddings told 
 her, that he would be a very disagreeable person to 
 serve. She had made up h~: mind to endure a great 
 deal of fault-finding. Afte'her meeting with him in 
 the road these fears were succeeded by still stronger 
 ones. She dreaded the renewal of such attentions 
 as he had begun. Had he made the slightest move 
 at that time toward excessive familiarity, it would 
 have put her on her guard. It was because of his 
 unfailing courtesy that the revulsion took place in 
 her feelings. 
 
 When Mr. Hanson came to her with his story, tell- 
 ing her what the powerful uncle of his guest 
 demanded, she was momentarily stunned. The only 
 thing she had of value, her reputation, was in danger 
 of being taken from her, the landlord said, by the 
 village gossips. More than this, Roland was repre- 
 sented as a most dangerous and insidious foe of 
 honest womanhood. Penniless, she had no choice 
 but to accept the offer to pay her expenses to New 
 York, or whatever city she chose, and to see that she 
 did not suffer for the necessaries of life while she was 
 engaged in seeking a new situation. 
 
 It was a very dark hour for her when she landed, 
 a perfect stranger, in the metropolis, and sought one 
 of the cheapest lodgings she could find. Work, 
 plenty apparently for the million people around her, 
 did not seem so easy to obtain as she had been told. 
 Insult was offered her more frequently than anything 
 else, and her life grew lonelier as time went by. 
 Then came the bright face of Roland, the face she 
 had resolved not to look upon, the face she had been
 
 238 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 told menaced her peace in this world and the next. 
 She had been given courage to tell him he must not 
 call again, though it nearly tore out her heartstrings 
 to do it. And then, when the night was darkest, 
 Guy Dalton had come. 
 
 Maud liked Guy. More than this, she trusted 
 him. He was as safe to admit to her confidence as 
 a girl friend would have been. She walked with 
 him in the summer evenings, took dinner opposite to 
 him in the restaurants, paying her own share some- 
 thing she insisted upon from the first. Guy's salary 
 was small, and Maud hated to use a penny more than 
 was necessary that came from Willard Linnette. 
 Both lived, therefore, in the most economical way, 
 but. economy is no bar to happiness. Indeed, given 
 a sufficiency of food and clothing to supply actual 
 physical needs, I think more real contentment is 
 found among the poor than among the rich. Maud 
 liked Guy, but never did she dream of loving him. 
 Removed by the hard hand of Fate from the man 
 she still adored, her young heart was as true to its 
 idol as if she had worn an engagement ring on her 
 finger. 
 
 And what were Guy's sentiments toward Maud ? 
 At first they were those of sympathy merely, a 
 desire to protect this innocent creature from the 
 rude touch of the thoughtless, wicked world. As 
 time passed he liked her better and better, and per- 
 haps he imagined, just before he took that fateful 
 journey, that he loved her. People get to liking 
 each other so well that in the absence of proof to the 
 contrary they imagine themselves afflicted with the
 
 "POVERTY is A WEARY THING.*" 239 
 
 grand( passion. I have known of cases where mar- 
 riages followed this state of mind, and it was only 
 on awakening some weeks later that the unfortunate 
 parties discovered their mutual error. Guy was 
 almost as lonely without Maud as she without him. 
 Roland was to both of them something not quite of 
 their own station, not exactly a comrade, even when 
 he seemed most like one. Their poverty and their 
 friendlessness bound them together, but that was 
 all. 
 
 When it became apparent that the elder Linnette 
 had cast his nephew off, and would refuse to aid 
 him in any way, Maud had a little flutter in her left 
 breast. Were Roland to become in reality as poor 
 as she, he would not look so far away. But there 
 arose between them now the figure of Eva Warren, 
 whose praises he never tired of singing to those ears 
 that heard him so patiently, though with such pain. 
 
 Roland never dreamed what agonies Maud suf- 
 fered when he chatted at the table, of this beautiful 
 girl, and reiterated his determination to marry her, 
 in spite of all the Linnettes ever born. And then 
 Guy went to see Tom Hobbs, and to tell Eva that 
 her lover would always be true to her, and that she 
 must not let anything take her from him. And in 
 his absence the deplorable event occurred that dis- 
 rupted the little group of three, not too happy 
 before, but now utterly miserable. 
 
 It was impossible for her to stay there with 
 Roland, alone. Nothing remained but another 
 struggle to support herself. She had used up all 
 the money given her by Mr. Hanson, and had fore-
 
 240 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 borne to ask for more since she had violated one of 
 his principal injunctions, that of keeping away 
 from young Linnette. The life that opened before 
 her was unillumined by a single ray of hope. 
 
 She was in such low spirits that she could not 
 resist the friendly overtures that Roland made her 
 on the morning after Guy's departure. He ex- 
 pressed such hearty sorrow for what he had done 
 that she was quite overwhelmed. 
 
 " How did I ever do such a silly thing !" he 
 exclaimed, twenty times, and with each exclamation 
 his lips touched her fair cheek. " I resisted the temp- 
 tation at Montvale till I thought I had been turned 
 into adamant. Maud, my sweet girl, if you continue 
 to cry I shall take a revolver, that I have in the other 
 room, and spoil your best carpet." 
 
 Women are made for affection. In times of great 
 mental distress they turn their faces toward the sun- 
 light, no matter from which direction it comes. Ro- 
 land continued to talk in a low monotone, vowing to 
 set her right again with Guy, no matter how great an 
 apology it required. He referred to that young 
 man so often that she felt obliged to interpose a 
 word. 
 
 " You are quite mistaken about Mr. Dalton," she 
 said. "There never has been anything between us 
 like like what you seem to think. We were good 
 friends, nothing more. But he has been very kind 
 to me, and I wish he had not gone away with such 
 suspicions in his mind. I have driven him from his 
 home, and all I ask is to return it to him. He will
 
 "POVERTY is A WKAEY THIHO!" 241 
 
 never come while I remain, and that is why I must 
 go as soon as I can." 
 
 Roland was much affected. 
 
 " Go, child ! Where can you go?" he demanded. 
 *' You have no relations in the city, as you have often 
 told me. Your money from my uncle has been 
 stopped. Let us talk sensibly. Guy has run off in 
 a sudden fit of temper. Soon he will come to his 
 senses and we shall have him back again. It will 
 not do for you or me to desert the lighthouse. We 
 must stay here and keep a candle in the window for 
 our wanderer, when he gets tired of his cruise and 
 turns his eyes toward home." 
 
 With that he kissed her again, and she did not try 
 to stop him, though she was by no means ready to 
 accept his plan. She did not think it right to keep 
 house for him alone. It had been bad enough when 
 three of them were together. There were people, 
 she felt sure, who would look askance at such an 
 arrangement between young persons of opposite 
 sexes. 
 
 " I don't know what to do," she mused. " I have 
 made trouble for you with your uncle ; and now I 
 have made trouble for him for Mr. Dalton. You 
 have both befriended me and received a very poor 
 return." 
 
 Not less than three kisses contented Roland after 
 listening to that speech. He put his arm around 
 her waist, declaring that both he and Guy owed her 
 the most abject apologies for what they had done, 
 and that it was a shame for her to accuse herself of 
 anything.
 
 242 LOVK AT SEVENTY. 
 
 " You must do nothing precipitate," he added. * 
 shall never let you out into this town again, hunting 
 for work. That would be madness. I have a hun- 
 dred dollars' worth of furniture that can be sold, 
 without seriously breaking up the menage, and when 
 that is gone, if all else fails, I have another string to 
 pull. I know, in spite of what you say, that I am 
 wholly to blame for all this row, and I shall do my 
 best to straighten it out." 
 
 Finally, an arrangement was made in this way. 
 Maud knew of a girl, one of the dressmakers where 
 she had worked, who lived down on Staten Island 
 and had to come and go every day, on very small 
 wages. She thought she could get this girl to come 
 and room with her in the flat, as a temporary expe- 
 dient, for the looks of the thing. If this succeeded 
 she would remain for the present, while Roland 
 tried to make things right with Mr. Dalton. She 
 did not like the idea of putting on her hat and walk- 
 ing out into the New York streets, without money 
 enough to pay for carting her trunk to a room, 
 the rent of which she could not raise. 
 
 To all this Roland agreed with pleasure, though 
 he protested mildly that the feminine addition to 
 the household was a reflection on him that was un- 
 warranted. He also warned her solemnly that in 
 case her friend was handsome, she would be more 
 than likely to regret introducing her. He was so 
 bright, in spite of all his troubles, that the girl soon 
 resumed her old manner. She set out the lunch and 
 they partook of it together. Before it was finished 
 he had her actually laughing at hfe pleasantries.
 
 " POVKBTY IS A WKAKY THING !" 243 
 
 During the afternoon Maud arranged the mat- 
 ter with her friend, the maker of dresses, who 
 agreed to room at the flat and take her breakfast 
 there, getting her other meals outside. This suited 
 Roland very well, when Maud told him of it at 
 dinner. 
 
 For the next three days Roland hunted for Guy. 
 He went to the restaurants he had formerly patron- 
 ized, inquired at the house w-here he had roomed on 
 Tenth Avenue, dropped in at the office of the Mont- 
 vale Optical Company, and walked the streets peer- 
 ing into every face that passed. In the intervals he 
 tried to pick out the furniture he talked of selling, 
 and once brought a buyer of secondhand goods to 
 look at it. But when the man offered him twenty- 
 three dollars for what had cost one hundred and 
 seventy-five, he broke into blasphemy and frightened 
 the dealer so that he ran away without looking 
 behind him. " I won't give the stuff to these wolves 
 till I have tried everything else," said Roland to 
 Maud. " I am going to pull that other string I told 
 you of. It's a thing I hate, but the landlord's agent 
 will be on our necks in a week, and there's no help. 
 Not only is the rent nearly due, but the ship is 
 running short of provisions." 
 
 The girl put her hand instinctively on his arm. 
 
 " It is perfectly honest of course the way you 
 are going to get this money," she said, with a deep 
 blush. 
 
 "To be sure," he retorted, reddening also. "Do 
 you think me a brigand, my child ? I'm not half as 
 bad, dear, as they've made me out to you."
 
 244 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 He took her face between his hands and drew it 
 to his own. 
 
 " If I had the fortune I have lost, Maudie," he 
 murmured, ''no other man should ever press his lips 
 to yours." 
 
 The girl could not resist him. He kissed her 
 without the least trace of passion and went out. 
 
 She stood where he had left her, pondering on 
 those words of his. What did they mean ? " If he 
 were rich, no other man should ever touch her lips." 
 But he was engaged to that young lady in Montvale ! 
 Ah, God ! To be so poor, to hold so much love, and 
 to hear such an intimation as that ! 
 
 A flush of shame that she should have listened to 
 him, that she should have permitted him to touch 
 her, covered the girl's cheeks. And yet, he had not 
 looked as if he meant to offer an affront. With the 
 great riddle in her tired brain Maud turned to her 
 household labors, tears coursing slowly down her 
 cheeks. 
 
 An hour later she heard a knock at the door. 
 Supposing it to be the grocer's boy, she went to 
 open it. 
 
 "Mr. Linnette !" she gasped. 
 
 It was Mr. Willard Linnette, indeed. He was even 
 more astonished, not to say grieved, than she, for he 
 had no idea that he would find her in his nephew's 
 apartments. But he silently entered and closed the 
 door behind him.
 
 A BENIGNANT OLD GENTLEMAN. 245 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 A BENIGNANT OLD GENTLEMAN. 
 
 As Roland walked along the street, after leaving 
 Maud, he whistled a low tune. He had surprised 
 himself by what he said to her. But he knew 
 that he meant every word of it, and that, strange 
 though it might be, he cared more for that girl 
 than for any other who breathed. 
 
 Mecurial in temperament, changeful as a weather- 
 vane, he was greatly influenced by the pathetic situa- 
 tion into which his actions had driven this young 
 woman. It was clear to him that he had done her a 
 wrong, and he wanted to offer reparation. If in 
 doing so he proved false to another that was an 
 incidental that he had not yet had time to discuss. 
 
 The errand on which he had started was most dis- 
 agreeable. He would not have believed, a month 
 before, that he could do it. Now there was no 
 choice. He was going to see his father and ask aid 
 of him. 
 
 In front of a handsome residence on Thirty-eighth 
 Street, not far from Lexington Avenue, he stopped. 
 Mustering courage with an effort, he ascended the 
 steps and pulled the bell. A man-servant in livery 
 responded to the summons. 
 
 " Is Mr. Linnette at home ?" asked Roland.
 
 246 LOTE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 "Yes, sir; but he is very busy. Is it anything 
 particular ?" 
 
 " I wish to see him." 
 
 j " If you'll give me your card, sir, I'll inquire." 
 / Though he had not been asked to enter, either by 
 word or look, Roland stepped into the hallway. 
 
 " I have not my card-case with me," he said, curtly. 
 " Tell him a gentleman is waiting in the reception- 
 room." 
 
 He turned away abruptly, but the servant did not 
 seem satisfied. 
 
 " He's awful busy sir. Is it have you anything 
 to sell ?" 
 
 The young man turned on his questioner savagely. 
 
 " He is my father ! Tell him that his son is here !" 
 
 At that the servant bowed almost literally in the 
 dust, or would have done so had the remarkably 
 clean surroundings contained any of that material. 
 He begged Mr. Roland's pardon, and explained that, 
 "as there were so many agents about, and as Mr. 
 Linnette had a horror of them, and never, under any 
 circumstances, bought anything, and as he was so 
 very busy to-day, and as " 
 
 "Will you tell him I am here?" shouted the 
 visitor. 
 
 This sufficed to cut short the apology that bade 
 fair to be endless. Roland looked around the room, 
 elegantly furnished, adorned with works of art on 
 all sides. It was a very long time since he had been 
 in that house a time dating back to the last of his 
 school-days. He had disliked his father ever since 
 he eould remember. Their few interviews had been
 
 A BENIGNANT OLD GENTLBMAW. 247 
 
 very brief. Nothing like a war of words had ever 
 arisen, but the coolness toward him of his nearest 
 living relation, galled him terribly. And now, to 
 have to come here like this ! 
 
 The serving man returned. 
 
 " Mr. Linnette is very sorry, but he is editing an 
 article for a magazine, and could you call Monday ?" 
 
 Roland looked so darkly at him that the man 
 recoiled a step. 
 
 " Where is he ?" he demanded. 
 
 " In his chamber, sir." 
 
 Two steps at a time the son mounted the stairs. 
 Throwing open the door without ceremony, he strode 
 into the room where Payson Linnette was writing. 
 
 "Did you send word to me to ' call again ?' " he 
 asked, bitterly. " And did you understand who 
 wanted you ?" 
 
 The venerable gentleman looked up with a mild 
 but slightly annoyed expression. 
 
 " You interrupt my work," he said, in a low tone. 
 
 His long gray hair swept the turned-down collar 
 that was twice the ordinary width. He wore a 
 velvet coat and a sailor-knot cravat. 
 
 "I will interrupt it but a minute," replied Roland. 
 "I want some money ! It is the only time I have 
 asked you for any since I was old enough to remem- 
 ber. Give me five hundred dollars and I promise it 
 shall be the last." 
 
 The venerable brows were lifted slightly at the 
 proposition. 
 
 "I must decline," said the elder man. "Your 
 Uncle Willard assumed charge of you many years
 
 248 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 ago. There was a perfect understanding that you 
 should look to him for everything. If you have lost 
 his goodwill you must seek to regain it. As I have 
 an important piece of work on hand, I hope you will 
 not disturb me further." 
 
 The son's astonishment would hardly let him speak. 
 He had known something of the nature of his father, 
 but he had not anticipated a refusal. 
 
 " One word," he said, and again the benignant 
 brows were lifted deprecatingly. "Whatever the 
 cause, whose ever the fault, I and my uncle have 
 quarrelled. I am at the end of my resources. With- 
 out money at once I shall be turned into the street. 
 I have sought work in vain. Unless you assist me I 
 shall become either a beggar or a thief." 
 
 The annoyed look deepened on the venerable face. 
 Reaching slowly into his pocket, Payson Linnette 
 fumbled among the bills there and finally drew out 
 ten dollars. 
 
 "I ought not to do it it will inconvenience me," 
 he murmured, " but you may have that. If you 
 are frugal it will last you till you can communi- 
 cate with my brother and beg his pardon. Good- 
 day." 
 
 The father turned to his writing, as if he con- 
 sidered the interview finished. For several seconds 
 Roland stood there, unable to utter one of the 
 indignant things with which his mind was filled. 
 
 " I am in doubt," he said at last, " whether to take 
 that money and stuff it down your throat, or spend 
 it in poison to end a life disgraced by being 
 drawn from such a wretch ! You have lived all
 
 -A. BEHIOlf AJTT OLD OKNTLEMAH. 249 
 
 these years as I did on the bounty of your suc- 
 cessful relation, which, having no blood nor heart 
 to cause you to rebel, you are able to retain. I care 
 not what becomes of me now. No greater disgrace 
 can fall to my lot than to have had you for my 
 father !" 
 
 With the air of a sovereign ruler, Roland left the 
 room and the house. A moment later Mr. Linnette 
 summoned the man-servant who attended the street 
 door and smiled upon him in his usual benevolent 
 way. 
 
 "You know how much I hate to be disturbed, 
 Kelly," he said. " Hereafter if you wish to retain 
 your position be more careful." 
 
 " He told me he was your son, sir," stammered 
 the man. 
 
 " Here-after," repeated his employer, " be more 
 care-ful. No per-son must be al-lowed to dis-turb 
 me, under any cir-cum-stances." 
 
 Kelly bowed humbly and was glad to escape to 
 the floor below. He had served gentlemen, in his 
 day, who were sometimes violent in their language ; 
 but never had he felt so uneasy as when in the 
 presence of this pattern of propriety. 
 
 Roland, too angry almost to contain himself, 
 returned to his home. He must tell Maud of the 
 failure of that "string " which he had believed 
 would save them, when worse came to worst. There 
 was a half-formed idea in his mind of selling every- 
 thing he had for what it would bring; giving her 
 the sum, going to the wharves and shipping as 
 a sailor.
 
 250 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 The uncle, who heard his step, signalled to Miss 
 Arline not to betray his presence for a few moments, 
 and she, in great doubt how to act, stood, physically 
 and metaphorically, between the two men. 
 
 "What do you think!" he cried, as soon as he 
 entered the room. " I went to my father my own 
 father, mind you ! to ask him for a paltry five hun- 
 dred dollars. I told him I had nothing left and that 
 it was either this or starvation, or even robbery. Of 
 course, I did not mean the last, dear, but I had to 
 say something. And what did he do ? He pushed 
 me a ten dollar bill across the table, murmured that 
 he was very busy, and said that was all he could 
 give ! I wanted to strangle him where he sat I 
 
 Willard Linnette, who had been hidden by an 
 open door leading to another room, stepped forward 
 with distended eyes. 
 
 " Did my brother do that (" he exclaimed, in a 
 trembling voice. 
 
 Roland looked from one to the other in amaze- 
 ment. Maud was gazing fixedly at the carpet, 
 unable to speak or look at him. What did it mean ? 
 
 " Yes, your brother did just that !" retorted the 
 young man, when he could command himself. 
 " Does it surprise you ? Did he ever show the 
 slightest interest in me ? I was a fool to go to him, 
 but it was either that or death. I can get nothing 
 to do, and I am desperate." 
 
 Tears came into the old man's eyes tears that 
 changed the manner of his nephew toward him in 
 an instant. The tender recollections of childhood
 
 A BENIGNANT OLD GENTLEMAN. 251 
 
 returned and blotted out all that had happened 
 
 pi nee. 
 
 "Under he cried. 
 "Roland!" 
 In a moment their arms were about eacn other.-
 
 252 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 MR. LINNETTE'S STRANGE STORT. 
 
 "Would you mind leaving us together for a little 
 while ?" asked Mr. Linnette, of Maud, when he had 
 again resumed his seat. 
 
 Then, when the door closed behind the girl, he 
 had a long talk with his nephew. A very important 
 talk it was, too. 
 
 " I want to say, to begin with," said he, " that I 
 have questioned the young woman who just left 
 the room and am satisfied that I have wronged her 
 seriously. She is, if I am a judge, a pure, sweet 
 girl, fit to be the companion of any man who lives. 
 If I had not something to tell you, however, that 
 completely fills my mind and heart, I should express 
 a doubt whether it is for her lasting happiness to be 
 thrown too much into your society. Do not mis- 
 understand me," he added, as Roland's cheeks began 
 to flush ; " I mean nothing unkind. In the hour I 
 have been here I have discovered, beyond question, 
 that she cares too much for you." 
 
 Roland was not in a mood to comprehend the 
 meaning of , this statement, and he inquired what his 
 relation meant. 
 
 "Why," stammered Mr. Linnette, " I believe she 
 fovts you, to put it plainly ; and you can see howun-
 
 MB. LINKS-TIE'S 8TEANGE STOET. 253 
 
 happy that may make her, when she finds that your 
 affections are enlisted elsewhere." 
 
 The young man breathed a deep sigh. 
 
 " Oh, uncle," he replied, " I must seem like a very 
 strange fellow to you, but you should know the 
 truth. Within the past few days it has grown clear 
 to me that I have been mistaken all along ; that 
 the sentiment which I have for Miss Arline is the 
 true one, and that Miss Warren " 
 
 Mr. Linnette sprang to his feet and held out his 
 arms again, overcome with joy. 
 
 "You do not mean " he began. 
 
 " Yes, I do," said Roland. " I regret deeply, for 
 her sake, that things have gone so far. For I will 
 not deny to you," he explained, " that we have cor- 
 responded, in spite of your prohibition. I began, I 
 think, by pitying Eva, who complained of the close- 
 ness of her confinement, and before I knew it I had 
 asked her to marry me and she had consented. I 
 now mean to write again, telling my whole story and 
 begging her to release me. It looks cowardly, but 
 it is the only thing left under the circumstances." 
 
 The fact that his nephew was about to relinquish 
 his aspirations to Eva's hand was all that Willard 
 Linnette comprehended, or wished to know. He 
 threw his arms around him once more, calling him 
 his dear Roland, and assuring him that his affection 
 had endured through everything. 
 
 " But now," he said, soberly, when he again be- 
 came tranquil, " I have a story of my jwn to telL 
 Lask week I learned a secret that had been kept 
 from me for many years, a secret of vital importance.
 
 254 LOVB AT SEVENTY. 
 
 Roland, it is extremely probable that I have a living 
 child somewhere in the world, who has no idea of its 
 parentage." 
 
 The young man eyed his relation curiously. What 
 kind of a statement was this, to be made by that 
 venerable man, that stickler for forms, that detester 
 of the very mildest dissipation ! 
 
 " You have a child T he repeated. 
 
 " Yes, Roland, unless death has taken it from me 
 even before I have found and claimed it. 1 came 
 here to tell you the story, and to ask you to enter 
 with me at once upon the search that has been 
 instituted." 
 
 Quite stunned by the revelation, Roland kept 
 perfectly still. 
 
 " At the age of thirty-five," said Mr. Linnette, 
 slowly, " I made a trip through New England, on a 
 vacation, driving from place to place alone. Fre- 
 quently I had to pass the night in villages so small 
 that they did not boast a hotel. One night the 
 family with which I stopped contained two daugh- 
 ters. One was about twenty-five years of age, the 
 other sixteen. Their name was Lincoln." 
 
 And then he went on with a long story, which may 
 as well be put into the words of the author. Some- 
 thing in the elder daughter interested the guest, 
 who had been, up to that time, wholly oblivious to 
 feminine attractions, engrossed as he was in his 
 business enterprises. Although he had intended to 
 xemain but one day in the village, he stayed a fort- 
 night. Before he went away a correspondence was 
 arranged. Fpr a number of years the manufacturer
 
 ME. LIimBTTE*8 STRANGE 8TOBY. 255 
 
 made quarterly visits to his new friends. In the 
 meantime the parents of the two girls died, leaving 
 them to find their sole reliance on each other. Noth 
 ing definite had been spoken upon the subject of 
 marriage, but the elder girl, whose name was Ber- 
 tha, considered this the unquestionable outcome of 
 the affair. She iiad fallen deeply in love, and waited 
 patiently for the day when she should be asked the 
 inevitable question. 
 
 In all this time, Mr. Linnette had never hinted to 
 the Lincolns that he was possessed of more than the 
 average fortune. His early life had been one of 
 great hardship, and when the thought of marriage 
 occurred to him, he wanted a wife who would wed 
 him for himself and not for his money. 
 
 On being asked once by a villager if he were 
 related to the Linnettes of Montvale, he replied 
 evasively that he believed he was connected with 
 that family. His letters were all dated at New 
 York, where, it was understood, he was clerk in an 
 office. 
 
 But Cupid plays strange pranks. After going 
 several times each year to visit Miss Bertha, after 
 writing her hundreds of letters, Mr. Linnette dis- 
 covered that the younger sister, a child when he first 
 knew her, had blossomed into one of the prettiest of 
 women. His long delay had allowed Bertha to 
 reach an age when female charms begin to fade, 
 while Beatrice had just arrived at her full beauty. 
 The slow wooer turned almost unconsciously toward 
 the rising sun ; and the words he had never spoken
 
 956 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 to the elder sister began to come upon his lips when 
 
 he was alone with the younger one. 
 
 Not realizing the extent of the affection which 
 Bertha had developed for him none are so blind as 
 those in love he resolved to make Beatrice his wife 
 if she would accept him. It was then that a hun- 
 dred artisans were sent to Montvale, to create the 
 most beautiful home in all that region for his future 
 bride. But in the whispered confidences which he 
 gave to Beatrice, nothing was intimated of the 
 wealth he possessed. He meant to bring her, like 
 the bride of the Lord of Burleigh, to 
 
 ... "a mansion more majestic 
 Than all those she saw before," 
 
 and to spend there with her the remainder of what 
 bade fair to be a happy and contented life. 
 
 At last the day came when he proposed to the 
 younger sister, and was accepted. The elder one 
 had seen the drift of matters for some time, and 
 though her heart was breaking, she bore the pain 
 like a mediaeval martyr, never uttering a word to 
 lessen the happiness of Beatrice. 
 
 As the home which he intended for his wife was 
 not yet completed, Mr. Linnette took her to New 
 York, where he kept up the illusion of being in 
 moderate circumstances, in order to enjoy her sur- 
 prise the more when she should see the glories of 
 Montvale. Prospects of an heir to his fortune and 
 house came to gladden the husband and to make him
 
 KB. LIKNBTTE's^STEAJfOB STOBT. 257 
 
 feel that his cup of joy was soon to be filled to the 
 brim. But, alas ! The future is for no man to read ! 
 
 As Beatrice seemed in excellent health, Mr. Lin- 
 nette felt justified in leaving her for seven or eight 
 weeks, when invited to join a party of scientific men 
 who were going to one of the Pacific Islands to view 
 an eclipse. The young wife urged him to go, say- 
 ing she did not need the least care and that he would 
 return long before the day of her especial trial. An 
 unlooked-for delay occurred, however, and when he 
 reached San Francisco, on his return, he received a 
 letter from Bertha, containing the saddest imagin- 
 able news. 
 
 The young wife had been taken suddenly ill, so 
 the letter said, and in spite of every effort, had 
 expired with her unborn child. She had sent for 
 her sister, who had done everything possible, but all 
 in vain. The body had been taken to her former 
 home and interred in her father's lot. 
 
 Mr. Linnette was so prostrated by this news that 
 he felt unable even to visit his sister-in-law. He 
 sent a generous check, asking her to accept it for 
 the expense and trouble she had undergone, but the 
 larger share was returned to him, with the statement 
 that she would take only what she had actually 
 expended. The manufacturer ordered all the work 
 stopped on his elegant residence. He never saw 
 Bertha again and soon ceased to hear from her. 
 The little son of his brother Payson, left motherless 
 some time before, then began to attract his atten- 
 tion. For this boy he had his mansion finished. 
 
 And now comes the strangest part of the story.
 
 258 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 Beatrice, when she died, was the mother of a ten- 
 hours-old babe, which, though born before its time, 
 was healthy and likely to live. The mad idea seized 
 Bertha to take this child away, and keep the knowl- 
 edge of its existence from its father. She had lost 
 both lover and sister, and her heart pined for some 
 creature on which to lavish the affection that welled 
 up in her maiden breast. 
 
 She supposed Mr. Linnette what he represented 
 himself, a man in ordinary circumstances, who would 
 find a motherless child a burden. There was plenty 
 of opportunity to carry out her hastily formed plan. 
 The death of her father had put her in possession of 
 a little money, and she was in want of nothing in the 
 simple way she desired to live. 
 
 Taken suddenly ill, years after, Miss Lincoln had 
 been moved to confide her cherished secret to a 
 clergyman of the town where she resided. She ex- 
 acted a promise from him that he would try to find 
 her adopted child's father. If he succeeded, the child 
 was to be told of its parentage, but if not, it was to 
 be kept in ignorance. 
 
 Miss Bertha only knew of Willard Linnette as a 
 clerk in the employ of some house whose name she 
 had never heard, and as a distant relation of the 
 famous man whose name he bore. The minister 
 did not mean to confide his secret to every person 
 he met. It was his object to make inquiries, not to 
 answer them. He went as far, on one occasion, as 
 to penetrate the private office of the very man he 
 sought, but left it no wiser than he came. The 
 optical instrument maker told him that he had
 
 MB. LIXNETTH'S STBANOE STOET. 259 
 
 never known of any Willard Linnette except him- 
 self. Discouraged at the obstacles he encountered 
 the minister returned to his home, feeling that his 
 duty was ended. 
 
 Roland listened to this tale with mixed feelings. 
 He was rather disappointed to find that his uncle's 
 life held no scandal, after all. He had expected, 
 from the introduction, to hear of an unchaste love, 
 and the thought of such a thing in connection with 
 that austere man had thrilled him to the utmost. 
 However, it was interesting enough. 
 
 * ; A short time ago," said Mr. Linnette, in conclu- 
 sion, " the revelation was made in a most peculiar 
 way. At a dinner given in honor of a distinguished 
 foreign savant I was placed next to a prominent 
 physician, who long since abandoned the practice of 
 medicine for the more entrancing pursuit of astrono- 
 mical knowledge. In the course of our conversation 
 he remarked that the name of Willard Linnette al- 
 ways brought a sad recollection to his mind. ' The 
 first mother I ever lost in childbirth,' he said, ' was 
 the wife of a gentleman of that name.' Reminded 
 thus of the inquiries that had been made of me by 
 the clergyman, I inquired where the lady had re- 
 sided. Judge of my surprise when he mentioned the 
 street and number where I had made my temporary 
 home with my young bride. 
 
 " Before he finished, this doctor had said enough 
 to convince me that my wife had given birth to a 
 living child. The next morning, as you may im- 
 agine, I was on the train that would take me nearest 
 to the town where Bertha Lincoln had resided.
 
 260 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 There I learned that some months after the death of 
 her sister she had 'adopted/ as she claimed, a child 
 found in an asylum, but which I have proved she 
 brought from New York. The clergyman has re- 
 tired from the ministry, but by the description I 
 gave of him he was easily identified and I have 
 communicated with him." 
 
 Roland listened without interruption, and when 
 his uncle finished he asked 
 
 "Have you found your child yet?" 
 
 "No," was the sad reply, " but I shall move heave* 
 and earth until it is accomplished 1"
 
 TOC ABB A COOL ONE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 "YOU ARE A COOL ONE." 
 
 A more disagreeable situation could easily be con- 
 ceived than that of Mr. Guy Dalton, during the 
 next few days after he became the guest of Eva War- 
 ren. In the wing of the great mansion that had 
 been practically given up to Eva, he was as secure 
 from intrusions of an objectionable nature as if in a 
 mountain fastness. Nobody dreamed of his presence 
 there, else it is very certain he would not have been 
 allowed to remain long. Mrs. Grundy would have 
 viewed the affair with her severest frown, had it 
 come to her attention. On general principles the 
 usually meddlesome old lady would have been right, 
 for this once. But with such a phenomenally good 
 young man as Guy, such a paragon of innocence as 
 Eva, and such a very wise young maiden as Char- 
 lotte, all was sure to go properly. 
 
 Eva was certain that, if she could only get an in- 
 terview with Mr. Linnette, and tell him she would 
 no longer oppose his wishes about Roland, she 
 could enlist his kind interest in securing for Guy the 
 position he had lost. What was to follow she did 
 not exactly know, but she believed, when the manu- 
 facturer once got acquainted with Guy, he would 
 see his good qualities and insure his subsequent rise 
 in the business. As for herself, this plan left her
 
 262 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 at Montvale, it was true, but since her experience 
 with Roland she felt more reconciled to her quiet 
 home. She had dreamed of a happiness that could 
 never have been hers, for a lover who would act as 
 he had done would be sure to make a most unreli- 
 able husband. So thought this wise young woman, 
 and more than likely she was not far out of the way 
 in her conjectures. 
 
 But there was a certain satisfaction in the very 
 presence of such a fine young fellow as Dalton. As 
 she partook with him of the coffee and toast and 
 eggs that Charlotte brought, she decided that it was, 
 on the whole, the most romantic thing she had ever 
 heard of. Roland's midnight visits were not to be 
 compared with it. In the old novels that she bor- 
 rowed from the library there were tales of mysteri- 
 ous underground passages, with pass-words and 
 knocks known only to the initiated. But the cav- 
 erns were always gloomy, and she was certain they 
 must have been damp. It was much nicer to have 
 four hero hidden in the upper story of a modern 
 house, right over the heads of his natural enemies, 
 where he could peep through the closed shutters at 
 his baffled pursuers. 
 
 All day long these young people talked together, 
 of life, and literature, and the things they knew and 
 the things they thought. It was noon before they 
 supposed it eleven o'clock, time for dinner long ere 
 they felt hungry, the hour for retiring when the 
 evening seemed only begun. Charlotte was their 
 timepiece, and they obeyed her suggestions im- 
 plicitly.
 
 "TOU ABB A COOL ONE." 263 
 
 Weaned by that one blow from Roland, it is no 
 wonder that Eva found the society of Guy more 
 than delightful. A week may equal a month or a 
 year when two people of their age are thrown into 
 each others' exclusive company for almost every one 
 of their waking hours. 
 
 One evening, when Guy had been at the Linnette 
 mansion for nearly a week, he found himself unable 
 to sleep, and after trying in vain to " woo the drowsy 
 god," he dressed himself, took the key to the door in 
 the rear wall by which Charlotte had admitted him 
 to the estate, and went outside the grounds for a 
 stroll. It was a most imprudent thing to do, but he 
 thought it safe enough, from what he knew of the 
 character of the villagers. In this case, however, he 
 had made a mistake, for he had not been walking 
 ten minutes when he came suddenly upon another 
 stroller, and one of the last men he would have 
 cared to meet. 
 
 It was Tom Hobbs. There was no escaping the 
 keen eyes of the old man, which recognized him 
 instantly, in spite of the semi-darkness, and Dalton 
 stopped when he heard his name pronounced. 
 
 " Well, well ! This is a surprise !" said Hobbs. 
 " How came you here and where are you going at 
 this time of night ?" 
 
 Guy was, happily, on the road that led to Ells- 
 worth, and apparently coming toward Montvale from 
 that direction. He replied, with alacrity, that he had 
 walked over again, to have a talk with Mr. Hobbs, 
 and was just going to his residence. 
 
 " Pshaw !" said Hobbs. " You don't say ! It's
 
 264 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 lucky I happened to see you, for I got wakeful and 
 was out trying to walk off the blues. That matter 
 of Linnette and his nephew rests on my mind all the 
 time. I'm afraid the boy is actually suffering for 
 funds, and I can't make out why he doesn't write me 
 a word. Did you give him the message I sent by 
 you, that time you came up here ?" 
 
 Somewhat confused, not only at the unexpected 
 meeting, but at the question, Guy suggested that 
 they had best go into the house as soon as possible, 
 as his desire not to be seen in Montvale was still 
 strong. In a few moments the two men were alone 
 in the superintendent's parlor. Then Guy related 
 his falling out with Roland on his return to the city, 
 though without giving the cause of the rupture. 
 
 " I could not talk to him about anything," he said. 
 " I did not speak a word. As soon as I could pack 
 my things I took them away, and that is why I never 
 was able to give him your message." 
 
 " The deuce !" said Hobbs. " And so, for all you 
 know, he may be starving to death at this present 
 moment." 
 
 "Yes," said Guy, coldly. "For all I know, or 
 care !" 
 
 Hobbs stared at the young man for some seconds. 
 
 "There is but one cause that could so embitter 
 two such friends as you were," he said, at last. 
 " There was jealousy about some woman." 
 
 " No matter what it was," replied Dalton. " I 
 will not discuss it. Our acquaintance is at an end." 
 
 " And why, then," asked Hobbs, " have you come 
 to me ?"
 
 "YOU ARK A COOL ONE." 265 
 
 Poorly prepared for contact with so shrewd a 
 mind, Guy had a second of apprehension. But by 
 good luck he hit upon an answer that looked rea- 
 sonable. 
 
 " I am still out of work," said he, ** and nearly 
 penniless. You have great influence with Mr. Lin- 
 nette. I want my old place in his office." 
 
 Mr. Hobbs laughed aloud. 
 
 " You are a cool one," he replied. " Don't you 
 know that I love that boy Roland, as much as if he 
 were my own flesh and blood ? After abandoning 
 him without even conveying my message offering 
 assistance, you come to ask help for yourself ! But 
 I'm not going to be as cruel as you. Give me his 
 address, and I'll give you " he paused, noting the 
 gleam in Dalton's eyes " I should say lend you any 
 sum you need." 
 
 Guy was struck by the position of the old man, 
 and touched by the tenderness of his voice. 
 
 " I will gladly give you the address," he responded. 
 " You will find him, unless he has moved away, at 
 No. East Sixth Street. As to your offer to lend me 
 money, I shall have to subdue my pride enough to 
 accept a little. If you can let me have ten dollars I 
 promise to return it at the very earliest possible 
 date. The truth is, I have not enough to get back to 
 the city without walking." 
 
 Hobbs wrote the address carefully in a little mem- 
 orandum book that he carried in his coat pocket. 
 
 " If it will ease your pride any," said he, *' I have 
 another proposition to make. I would like to 
 employ you for a week or so on a very particular
 
 266 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 and private affair. If you succeed in what I wish to 
 accomplish you will be handsomely rewarded. If 
 you fail, your expenses and a good salary for the 
 time employed will be paid." 
 
 The young man caught eagerly at the proposition. 
 While it was very agreeable to stay in the Linnette 
 mansion with Eva, he knew it was far from being a 
 sensible way to pass any more of his time. He 
 wanted the pleasure of again earning something, the 
 sensation of having in his purse a few dollars that 
 would enable him to hold his head up among men. 
 He told Mr. Hobbs that he would willingly under- 
 take any honorable mission. 
 
 "I am going to impart a most profound secret," 
 said the elder man, when this had been arranged. 
 "You will need to show the greatest judgment in 
 carrying out the investigations I intend to commit 
 to you." 
 
 Much impressed, Dalton inquired why he had 
 been selected for this work. 
 
 " For two reasons. One is because you are avail- 
 able, because you are able to begin at once. The 
 other is because it will lead you to a location with 
 which you have told me you are familiar, that of 
 East Ryegate, Vermont." 
 
 Guy started perceptibly when he heard the con- 
 cluding statement ; but he recovered himself, and 
 begged his companion to proceed. 
 
 " You may remember telling me," said Hobbs, 
 " that you knew of a family by the name of Lincoln, 
 living in Ryegate."
 
 " YOU ARE A COOL OWE." 267 
 
 Again there was the slight start, that did not 
 escape the watchful eyes of the questioner. 
 
 " Yes," said Dalton, slowly, " I remember." 
 
 " There were two daughters in this family," pur- 
 sued Hobbs. " One of them, the younger, was 
 named Beatrice. She married and moved away a 
 great many years ago. The elder's name was " 
 
 He paused, and looked at Guy inquiringly. 
 
 " Bertha," said Guy. 
 
 " Exactly. She lived during the later years of her 
 life in a village about twenty miles from Ryegate. 
 The name of it escapes me at this moment " 
 
 Dalton named it quietly. 
 
 "Precisely," said Hobbs. "And this Miss Lincoln 
 Miss Bertha Lincoln did not live entirely alone, 
 I believe. She had adopted a child, soon after her 
 sister's death and now comes the secret, that you 
 must swear not to reveal without my permission." 
 
 Guy inclined his head in token of assent. 
 
 " I believe the child which Miss Bertha adopted 
 and brought up was the offspring of her sister." 
 
 Guy looked intently at the speaker. 
 
 " Well ?" he said, interrogatively. 
 
 Mr. Hobbs smiled, as he was wont to do when he 
 cornered his adversary at a game of chess. 
 
 " Were you pretty well acquainted with things in 
 Ryegate ?" he asked. 
 
 "Quite well." 
 
 "Did you ever hear" the old man bent forward 
 anxiously " the name of the man Miss Beatrice 
 married ?" 
 
 Dalton contracted his brows in thought. Yes, he
 
 LOYE AT SBTWTT. 
 
 said, he had heard the name, but it had slipped his 
 memory. 
 
 " Was it Linnette ?" demanded Hobbs, triumph- 
 antly. 
 
 " I think it was," said Guy, with a nod. 
 
 " And Willard ? Was it Willard Linnette ?" 
 
 "I don't know. But you don't mean you 
 wouldn't wish me to understand " 
 
 Hobbs rose and rubbed his hands together with 
 glee. 
 
 " Wouldn't I ? Oh, yes, I would ! Begins to grow 
 entertaining, doesn't it ?" 
 
 Then he told Guy, with all the flourishes of a 
 romancist, about the long-past love and marriage of 
 the master of Montvale, much as detailed by Mr. 
 Linnette himself to Roland, and already explained 
 to the reader. Hobbs had known all that his em- 
 ployer knew, even in those remote days, but upon 
 the latter's return with the sad news of his young 
 wife's death, it had been agreed that the matter 
 should never again be mentioned between them. 
 
 Upon learning through the New York doctor that 
 his child was born alive, the instrument manufacturer 
 had confided all he learned to his faithful friend, by 
 means of the mail. After himself visiting Ryegate, 
 and setting a detective agency to work upon the trail 
 of the lost child, Linnette had again written to 
 Hobbs, telling him of the latest developments. It 
 was then that the superintendent remembered that 
 Dalton came from that town, and he was debating 
 making a journey to the metropolis in the hope of
 
 "YOU ARE A COOL ONE." 269 
 
 finding him when the unexpected meeting took 
 place. 
 
 If he could manage to find this child by his own 
 efforts, directed in this way, what a crowning glory 
 it would be for him ! 
 
 " I want you," he said to Dalton, " to go to East 
 Ryegate and learn what became of this adopted 
 child. The clue does not seem an easy one, from 
 what Linnette writes me, but perhaps a smart 
 Yankee boy, who knows the neighborhood, may out- 
 wit the New York detectives. You will see what an 
 important matter this is. If you are successful, you 
 may be sure not only of your old place in the count- 
 ing room, but of almost anything else you want." 
 
 Guy had been growing very sober during the pro- 
 gress of these arrangements. He rose like one who 
 has slept on the bare ground and finds his bones 
 aching. 
 
 " You are quite certain that Bertha's adopted child 
 was Mr. Linnette's own ?" he asked. 
 
 " Quite. The coincidence is too remarkable to 
 leave much doubt." 
 
 The young man listlessly took the money that 
 Mr. Hobbs handed to him, not counting it. As long 
 as it was no charity he did not care what the 
 amount was. 
 
 " I will do my best," he said, simply. 
 
 He went back to the Linnette house and crept 
 softly up the stairs. Writing a note explaining that 
 urgent business called him away, and that he would 
 communicate again as soon as possible by mail, he 
 slipped it under Eva's door. Then, taking his satchel
 
 $70 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 Jn his hand, he went as he had come, carrying the 
 key to the entrance with him. 
 
 Before starting on his way to Ellsworth, however, 
 he stood a long time gazing at the roof that had 
 sheltered him, and his fine eyes were dimmed with 
 the tears he could not restrain.
 
 BOLAND AHD MAUD. 271 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 ROLAND AND MAUD. 
 
 The delight of Roland Linnette at being recon 
 ciled with his uncle was fully shared by Miss Arline. 
 The old gentleman remained to dinner with them, 
 and became more and more impressed with the 
 sweet and modest bearing of his nephew's young 
 housekeeper. He refrained, by arrangement with 
 Roland, from referring in any way to the startling 
 information he had imparted to him, while in Maud's 
 presence. But after he had departed (first assuring 
 his nephew that his former income would be given 
 him, and that he had only to present his letter of 
 credit to the Barings' correspondent) the young man 
 could not help telling Maud something of what he 
 had learned. 
 
 " It is the greatest secret," he said, "and I ought 
 not to say a word, but " 
 
 "Then, don't," she interposed, mildly. "Two 
 can keep a secret much better than three." 
 
 " I can't help it," said Roland. " I must at least 
 give you an inkling. My uncle you won't ever 
 tell, will you ?" 
 
 Maud shook her head, with a smile. She liked 
 him very much, when he was in a mood like this. 
 
 " Well, years ago, you see, my uncle married. He 
 kept it from almost every one, except his wife and a
 
 273 LOVB AT SEVENTY. 
 
 sister of hers. And when he was away on a journey, 
 Mrs. L. presented him with a child. No, she didn't 
 eijther that was just the trouble." 
 
 Maud's pretty face exhibited a puzzled look at 
 this statement. 
 
 " It was this way," said Roland, making another 
 start. " She had a child, but she did not present it to 
 her husband. She died, in fact, and a wicked fairy 
 her sister stole the innocent babe and carried it 
 off to her castle in the country, sending word to the 
 father that his wife died before the birth, you under- 
 stand. And through all these decades he never heard 
 of the truth till within a week or two." 
 
 The strangeness of this story was admitted by the 
 listener, who asked what object the sister had in 
 perpetrating the deception. 
 
 " The greatest in the world," replied Roland. 
 " She was in love with my esteemed relation herself, 
 and wanted something to console her for his loss. 
 Then she supposed him a poor man, who would be 
 rather pleased than otherwise to get rid of the care 
 of an infant, for he had never told her or his wife 
 that he was a nabob. When a woman is in love my 
 dear, she will do anything." 
 
 He looked archly at Miss Arline as he said this, 
 and she cast down her eyes and reddened in a 
 charming way. 
 
 " Won't she ?" he asked. " When a woman is in 
 love, won't she do anything ?" 
 
 Maud said she did not know, never having had 
 any experience.
 
 EOLAKD AND MATTD. 273 
 
 " You are a story teller," replied Roland. " You 
 certainly have been in love with Guy." 
 
 The mention of this name made the girl put on a 
 very serious look. She replied that she had never 
 been in love with that young gentleman, and that 
 Roland knew it well. 
 
 " All right, then," said he. " We will let the Dai- 
 ton episode pass. But at the present moment you 
 are very much in love with Jiff, and that you dare 
 not dispute." 
 
 To this Maud made a still more vigorous protest, 
 but her companion insisted that he was right, and 
 greatly enjoyed her discomfiture when she could 
 not, in response to his challenge, look him straight 
 in the eyes and tell him the contrary. 
 
 " The fates have ordained it, Maud," he continued, 
 when he had succeeded in making her laugh in spite 
 of herself. "Bad as I am, wicked as I have been, 
 there is mercy in store for me. I am to be made a 
 better man by the power of your love." 
 
 She would not admit this, but she listened with a 
 high-beating heart, while he told her that he should 
 never be satisfied until a clergyman had bound her 
 to him for life. And she looked still more pensive 
 when he divulged the fact that his uncle had probed 
 the depth of her feelings even in the short time he 
 was at the house, and had spoken in the most com- 
 plimentary terms of her. 
 
 . " We are nearer in worldly wealth than we used 
 to be," he added, " if that could make any difference 
 to him. What little chance I had of inheriting his 
 property is disposed of by the discovery be has just
 
 274: LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 related to me. If he finds his child I shall never 
 tread the soil of Montvale as its owner. Confound 
 him !" he exclaimed, comically. " He acted as if I 
 ought to be excessively pleased at the news ! Why, 
 it knocks me out of a clear million !" 
 
 Then Maud talked with him quietly for a long 
 time of the troubles that came with wealth, and the 
 greater happiness that people in moderate means 
 enjoyed. Before they parted that night he had 
 urged her again and again, without result, to give 
 him a definite promise to be his wife. 
 
 " You are so changeable," she said. " It seems 
 but yesterday that you could only think and talk of 
 Miss Warren." 
 
 "I know it," he admitted, ruefully. "I can't 
 understand it in the least. It was nothing but pity 
 nothing whatever. I was drawn into it before I 
 knew what I was doing." 
 
 " The same as you are in my case V she suggested. 
 
 "Not at all. I loved you, dear, the day I first saw 
 you, when that dunce of a Hanson sent you after 
 me. I- can see you now, standing there in the snow, 
 with your pretty cheeks reddened by the exercise of 
 walking, and the cold air, and the " 
 
 She bade him " Hush !" and said it was time she 
 retired. 
 
 " And won't you promise to be mine ?" he pleaded. 
 
 "Not to-night." 
 
 " Well, then," he answered, pretending to misua- 
 derstand, " the first thing in the morning, at any rate, 
 Not later than noon, I must insist. Really, Maud, if 
 you hold me off till dinner time I shall die."
 
 ROLAND AlTD MAUD. 275 
 
 Her head was aching, as she went to her room, and 
 found her dressmaker friend asleep before her. The 
 happiness Roland held out to her was too great. 
 She did not believe it could ever come. 
 
 Willard Linnette consulted daily with his detec- 
 tives, growing impatient at the slowness of their 
 movements. Happening to hear the name of Rye- 
 gate mentioned, Roland informed his relation that 
 his late friend, Guy Dalton, had once lived in that 
 place. This led to a consultation with the chief of 
 the bureau that was managing the search, and it was 
 decided that Guy ought to be found and an attempt 
 made to put him upon the case at once. 
 
 But Guy was no easier to find than the long-lost 
 child. As the reader knows, he was, during part of 
 this time, in the Linnette mansion at Montvale, and 
 later, on the errand suggested by Mr. Hobbs, of 
 which Mr. Linnette had no knowledge. 
 
 41 1 have an idea," said the manufacturer, at last. 
 "You remember, Roland, that Miss Warren wrote 
 to him once of course you do. Perhaps she has his 
 present address. It is at least worth trying. I am 
 going home to-morrow on business and I will try to 
 find out." 
 
 When Eva learned that Mr. Linnette had returned 
 she thought it wisest to appear at dinner. She had 
 a curiosity to note whether there was anything un- 
 usual in his manner. She saw at once that all traces 
 of anger seemed to have disappeared. He greeted 
 her with great kindness, and when the meal was
 
 276 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 ended he inquired if she would favor him with her 
 presence for a few minutes in the library. 
 
 Knowing no reason why she should refuse, though 
 wondering greatly at the request, the girl complied 
 without comment. Mr. Linnette followed her and 
 closed the door behind them. 
 
 " Some weeks ago," he said, in an ordinary tone, 
 after motioning her to a chair and taking another, 
 " I spoke to you on a matter very distasteful to me, 
 and my manner of alluding to it was hardly, I fear, 
 less so to you. I now wish to say " 
 
 She thought it best to set him right, before he had 
 gone any farther in that direction. 
 
 " If you are referring to your nephew, sir, I can 
 save you the necessity. I shall never speak or write 
 to him again." 
 
 " So I supposed," he said, in the same voice. " I 
 have had an interview with him in fact, several of 
 them. He tells me that for a time he was in the 
 habit of hearing from you several times a week, and 
 that it is quite a while since he received any reply to 
 his communications. He believes that you must 
 have heard from a certain source of an unpleasant 
 occurrence that took place in his apartment, even 
 before he wrote you, resigning all claim to your 
 hand." 
 
 There were four unopened letters of Roland's in 
 Charlotte's possession. She had been told never to 
 bring another to her mistress with his superscriptioa 
 on the envelope, and she had put these away among 
 her own things. 
 
 " I do not like to discuss this matter," said Eva,
 
 BOLAND AND MAUD. 277 
 
 with a sigh. " I felt justified in all that I did, even 
 when it was against your wishes ; but now it is ended, 
 and I hope we shall never have to allude to it 
 again." 
 
 Mr. Linnette bowed profoundly. He had feared 
 an outbreak of regret and passion, and was much 
 relieved at the manner in which she referred to his 
 nephew. It argued, he reasoned, that she had not 
 been as deeply attached to him as he feared. 
 
 " I hope," he went on to say, " you are con- 
 vinced that whatever I have done has been with an 
 honest regard for your best welfare. I am quite 
 glad to let this incident pass without further com- 
 ment. What I now wish to ask you is if you can tell 
 me the address of of Mr. Guy Dalton." 
 
 The question was so unexpected that the girl's 
 cheek flushed brightly. She thought at first that 
 this was merely an ingenious way of showing that he 
 knew the concealment of which she had been guilty. 
 One glance at the calm face of the millionaire dissi- 
 pated this impression, but still she was uncertain 
 what answer to make him. She felt that she had no 
 right to reveal Guy's whereabouts until she had 
 consulted with the young man. 
 
 " Was there any indication of his residence in the 
 letter he wrote you ?" asked Mr. Linnette. 
 
 " I have not said that he wrote me any letter, she 
 answered, diplomatically. 
 
 Mr. Linnette looked troubled. 
 
 " I had hoped you could tell me where to find 
 him," he said, gravely. " It is on a matter of much 
 importance. I have hired the largest detective
 
 278 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 A 
 
 bureau in New York to hunt for him, so you can 
 judge for yourself that it is no small affair." 
 
 Eva began to tremble again. What offence had 
 Guy committed ? Was there no man whose life was 
 what it should be ? There could be no prejudice on 
 her account, as Mr. Linnette could not know of her 
 relations with him. She had accused this man once 
 in her thoughts of slandering his nephew, and had 
 found that his charges were only too well founded. 
 
 " Eva," asked Mr. Linnette, after a pause, "are we 
 good friends again ?" 
 
 " Why, yes, sir, I hope so." 
 
 " You believe that all I have done has been 
 actuated by a regard for your welfare ?" 
 
 She assented cordially. 
 
 ** And do you care as much for me as as you 
 did before any of these things occurred ?" 
 
 He was bending toward her, and there was a depth 
 of emotion in his voice for which she could not 
 account. Again she answered in the affirmative. 
 
 " From the day you came to live here," he said, 
 *' you have been very dear to me. I love you as 
 well indeed, I think far more than most men love 
 their daughters. It would break my heart to find 
 anything like a permanent estrangement growing up 
 between us. Dear child, I want to say much more 
 to you than I dare, and some day I hope to have the 
 courage I need. You like me you are sure you like 
 me?" 
 
 Tears stood in his eyes. Quite innocent of what 
 he had in mind, she felt a profound pity for the senti- 
 ments that had brought such visible sorrow to this
 
 BOLAND AHD MAUD. 279 
 
 eld man, who had done so much for her. Rising, 
 she put her arms around his neck as she had done 
 a hundred times in younger years, and laid her fair 
 cheek to his. 
 
 For a few moments he did not move. Then he 
 arose and walked with her to the hallway. 
 
 " God bless you !" he said, in broken tones, as she 
 said good-night to him, and went slowly up> :he 
 staircase.
 
 2CC LOVE AT SEVEHTT* 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 OFF TO GRETNA GREEN. 
 
 Thf? second day after Guy Dalton's sudden disap- 
 pearance from Montvalc, Eva received a letter from 
 him, through the agency of Mrs. Merrill. In it he 
 told her nothing of the business upon which he had 
 embarked, except that it was a secret which he had 
 promised not to divulge. But there was something 
 in this letter of more importance to its recipient than 
 any other subject could be. Page after page was 
 covered with protestations of the most ardent 
 affection. 
 
 " I could not speak these words when in your 
 presence," said the letter, " but now that I am able to 
 call pen and paper to my assistance, I can no longer 
 repress them. Within the past week I have learned 
 that life without you would be unendurable. Even 
 my unfortunate condition, penniless and without a 
 permanent situation of any kind, cannot keep me 
 from telling you the truth. It seems presumptuous 
 to reveal the state of my feelings, when I have no 
 home to offer, but I may not always be as poor as I 
 am now. With the hope of winning you to inspire 
 me, I shall yet surmount the obstacles in my path. 
 Dear, dear Eva, if so I may call you, say I have not 
 offended you, for if I have, I will never come into 
 your presence or send you another line."
 
 OFF TO GBETWA GREEN. 281 
 
 Clasping this letter to her heart, Eva felt for the 
 first time the wonderful sensation of true reciprocal 
 love. The sentiment she had conceived for Roland 
 Linnette was quite different from that which had 
 been growing up so rapidly in her bosom for Guy 
 Dalton. Roland was the first young man with whom 
 she had ever come in contact. Her secluded life left 
 her ready to find perfection in any well-appearing 
 person of the opposite sex, if sufficiently good- 
 natured and attractive. But for Guy she had a much 
 more powerful emotion. During the hours she had 
 spent in his company she had longed earnestly for 
 some spoken word to indicate that her feeling to- 
 ward him was returned. The least expression, tell- 
 ing of his love, would have sufficed to let loose the 
 full tide of her own affection. And now, when his 
 su-dden and unannounced departure had filled her 
 with alarm and foreboding, came this sweet proof of 
 all she could ask. 
 
 Her happiness was so great that for a few days 
 she did not even communicate the news to Charlotte. 
 
 Three letters came in quick succession from Guy, 
 the third one saying he should return on the follow- 
 ing evening. The maid was told to be on the watch 
 for him, and before he arrived Eva had told her 
 all. Charlotte, happy at anything that pleased her 
 young mistress, rejoiced also. As soon as Dalton 
 appeared on the premises he was taken into Eva's 
 presence and left alone with her. 
 
 There was a second of hesitation, and then the fair 
 girl allowed her lover to take her in his arms. 
 
 * You do really forgive me, then ?" murmured
 
 282 LOTS AT SEVENTY. 
 
 Guy, who wore a haggard look, as of one who has 
 passed sleepless nights. 
 
 For answer she gave him her lips to kiss ; he 
 needed no other. 
 
 " Have you been doing anything wrong ?" asked 
 Eva, as soon as she could speak. 
 
 "Wrong?" he repeated, with a dazed look. 
 
 " Yes. Mr. Linnette has been here inquiring for 
 you. He says detectives are looking for you in all 
 directions." 
 
 Then she told him the entire conversation she had 
 had with Mr. Linnette in the library, as far as she 
 could recall it. 
 
 14 1 give you my word," he answered, breathing 
 more easily, " that I have done nothing of which you 
 would not approve. Don't tell me, darling, that 
 you lost faith in me !" 
 
 The girl, embracing him again, declared that 
 such a supposition was the farthest possible thing 
 from the truth. But even though he were a criminal, 
 she protested, she could do no less than love him. 
 
 " I have thought so much of the dangers we run," 
 she added, " that everything alarms me. Oh, I wish 
 we could be married at once ! Then, whatever hap- 
 pened, they could not tear us apart !" 
 
 The young man gazed at her with tenderness. 
 What an innocent flower she was to open her full 
 heart to him. 
 
 " I wish it as heartily as you, my love," he said. 
 " If I had any money I could call my own, I would 
 ask you to run away with me this very night. When
 
 OFF TO GRETNA GREEH. 283 
 
 we had found a minister and were made one, we 
 could laugh at all their threats and insinuations." 
 
 The idea of an elopement completely fascinated 
 the girl. To go away with him, to stand before a 
 clergyman and hear the words that should make 
 him her husband that was charming indeed ! 
 When she heard Dalton's suggestion, she burst into 
 enthusiastic praise of it. 
 
 " Oh, that would be heavenly !" she cried. M And 
 as for money, I have enough to last us several 
 weeks. I will go with you immediately, if you 
 think best." 
 
 Guy doubted the expediency of taking this child 
 from her home, with the grave questions of future 
 support that he knew would soon come upon him. 
 But how could he resist the pleading eyes and the 
 flushed cheeks with which she offered to throw her- 
 self into his arms ? He found, on examining the 
 money she hastened to bring him, that there was 
 nearly a hundred and fifty dollars of it. It is easier 
 to look on the bright side than on the dark one 
 when a luscious young maiden offers to lead the way. 
 Within an hour the plans for flight began to be 
 matured. 
 
 . "It is hardly twelve o'clock," he said, looking at 
 the timepiece on the mantel. " I can go to Ells- 
 worth, rouse the stable keeper, and get here with a 
 carriage by half-past three. You can have the things 
 that are absolutely necessary to take packed in 
 valises by that time, and Charlotte can bring them 
 out to the door in the wall where I entered. Luck- 
 ily," he added, going to a window, 4< there is no moon
 
 884: LOTE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 and the night is dark as pitch. You cannot take a 
 great many things, and you must select carefully 
 those you will need most. You are certain you can 
 rely on Charlotte ?" 
 
 Eva laughed merrily. 
 
 "She is as sure as my own hand," she answered- 
 " Go at once, and get your carriage. You will have 
 to walk so far ! I am very sorry for you, but I'm 
 worth it, am I not ?" 
 
 Before the hour announced Dalton returned with 
 his vehicle, but he did not permit it to come nearer 
 than a hundred yards of the place he had agreed 
 upon. He found Eva all ready as, indeed, she had 
 been for a long time and Charlotte wearing her 
 outer wraps and an air of mystery. 
 
 " Is she going with us ?" he whispered in a rather 
 blank tone. 
 
 " Now, my dear Guy," laughed Eva, " isn't that a 
 peculiar question ? Did you imagine I was going to 
 travel alone with a man before I was married to 
 him ? And what do you think would become of 
 poor Charlotte if I left her here to bear the blame of 
 my escape ?" 
 
 He saw the force of both reasons, but he felt com- 
 pelled, lest she should think him worse than he was, 
 to pretend he had alluded to the extra expense that 
 a third person would entail. 
 
 " That's true," mused Eva, thoughtfully. " Per- 
 haps, if we continue to be very poor, I shall have to 
 find a new place for her by-and-by. But now, really, 
 I couldn't go a step without her ; you must see thai.
 
 JT TO GRETOA GREKIT. 285 
 
 Let me show you the letters I have written to leave 
 
 behind me." 
 
 He had no more objections to offer, and he read 
 the letters with interest. The first one was as 
 follows : 
 
 " MY DEAREST MAMMA : You could not be my mother 
 and not know what love is. A few hours, at the latest, after 
 you read this, I shall be Mrs. Guy Dalton ! Does not that 
 sound strange for little Eva ? 
 
 " And who is Guy ? you may inquire. He is the handsom- 
 est, sweetest, dearest man in the world, and I love him. 
 That's all. 
 
 " I should have confided in you ; yes, that is true. But 
 you might have thrown a hundred obstacles in our way, and 
 that would not have been agreeable to us. 
 
 " Charlotte is going, too. As soon as we are settled 
 enough to have a permanent address I shall let you know 
 of it. 
 
 " In the meantime, dear mother, believe me, 
 
 " Your dutiful daughter, 
 
 " ETA." 
 
 And the second one read like this : 
 
 " MR. WlLLARD LlNNETTK. 
 
 " DEAR FRIEND : Do not think me ungrateful for all 
 your kindness. Indeed, 1 am not. I have left your house 
 with him who is to be my husband, because love is the 
 Strongest feeling in the breast of woman. 
 
 "You told me last night that you had detectives search- 
 ing for Mr. Dalton. They need search no longer. As soon 
 as we are married and in a home, he will tell you where to 
 find him. He knows of no crime that should cause him to 
 evade you.
 
 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 " Think of me as gently as you can. Forgive me as soon 
 as you can. And, if it is possible, come to us and be the 
 same dear ' Uncle Willard ' you have been to me so long. 
 " Your ' little treasure/ 
 
 " EVA WARREN." 
 
 Willard Linnette rose at his usual early hour that 
 morning, ate his breakfast and went mechanically to 
 His office. When Tom Hobbs came in they talked of 
 the ill success of the detectives. 
 
 "There's one good thing ought to come out of this 
 matter, at any rate," said Hobbs. " Now that you 
 know you've a grown-up child you won't think any 
 more of making a fool of yourself." 
 
 An expression of pain flitted across Mr. Linnette's 
 features. 
 
 " That is your delicate way of referring to my 
 regard for Miss Warren, I presume," he said. 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 The manufacturer suppressed an inclination to 
 reply in an impatient manner, for he knew the good 
 intentions of this old friend so well. 
 
 "Ah, Tom!" he cried, " the coming on of years 
 does not deaden the heart in a healthy man, nor does 
 the springing up of love in his bosom indicate decay 
 of the mental faculties. She has promised me to 
 have nothing more to do with Roland. I see no rea- 
 son to change my mind. No child will regret to 
 learn that a father's last days are to be brightened 
 by the companionship of a beautiful and loving 
 woman."
 
 OFF TO GRBTNA GREEN. 287 
 
 The door opened at this moment and one of the 
 clerks entered. 
 
 " Mrs. Warren has come down, sir, and says she 
 must see you immediately." 
 
 "Show her in," said Mr. Linnette. "Don't go, 
 Hobbs," he added. " There need be no secrets be- 
 tween us three." 
 
 But when Mrs. Warren came into the room it was 
 seen that she was laboring under great excitement. 
 The traces of tears were on her cheeks, and she 
 repressed another outburst with the greatest dif- 
 ficulty. Both gentlemen rose to proffer her their 
 chairs, but she would accept neither. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Linnette !" was all she could say, and 
 this she repeated not less than a dozen times in 
 rapid succession, clasping her hands together in 
 distress. 
 
 " What is it ?" asked her employer, taking alarm. 
 " Is Eva ill ?" 
 
 She wrung her hands in pain. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Linnette ! How can I tell you ? Read 
 these letters !" 
 
 Each sentence came with a gasp, and then Mrs. 
 Warren, handing him the missives, sank into one 
 of the chairs offered her and began to sob violently. 
 
 The manufacturer took the letters and began to 
 read first the one addressed to himself. He had 
 only reached the words " with him who is to be my 
 husband," when a mist came over his eyes. He 
 thought at the moment that Roland had lied to him 
 after all that his pretence of love for Maud Arline 
 was a mere blind to conceal his real intention, and
 
 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 that it was with him that Eva had gone away. He 
 staggered against the desk at which he had been 
 sitting, and handed the notes to Hobbs. 
 
 "Read them, Tom ; I can't," he ejaculated, in a 
 smothered voice. " Read them distinctly that I may 
 know the worst." 
 
 Hobbs did as he was bidden. Linnette listened as 
 one listens to a voice at the distant end of a telephone. 
 He did not understand the situation perfectly until 
 the second letter was read. He believed at first that 
 Dalton had only been a co-conspirator with his 
 nephew. But when the plain declaration was made, 
 " I shall be Mrs. Guy Dalton," he uttered a stifled 
 cry, threw up his arms and fell fainting to th 
 office floor.
 
 "YOU HAVE MABRIED HER P* 289 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 " YOU HAVE MARRIED HER !" 
 
 Maud Arline was too much in love with Roland 
 Linnette to hold out long in the face of his ardent 
 wooing. Their situation was somewhat to blame for 
 the denouement that speedily took place. As he 
 told her, with a happy laugh, they were already 
 housekeeping and knew each other as well as an 
 unwedded couple was ever likely to. He had de- 
 termined to ask his uncle for a place in some depart- 
 ment of his business, where he could honestly earn 
 the living he received. The difference in worldly 
 wealth between him and his hoped-for bride had 
 been shown to be a very thin and flimsy one. It 
 would not be a " marriage in high life," in any sense, 
 now that he was no longer the prospective heir of 
 Montvale. 
 
 " We are just two ordinary human beings, Maud," 
 he said, " in whom the world at large has not the 
 slightest interest. Don't put me off any longer. 
 Let me take you to the nearest minister and have it 
 over." 
 
 And this is what was done, a few days later. The 
 ceremony took place in the clerical parlor, with as 
 little fuss as possible.* 
 
 * The author of this novel is conscious at this point of 
 departing from the rule which belong ago adopted, never to
 
 290 LOTS AT 8ETENTT. 
 
 The first visitor the newly wedded couple received 
 was old Tom Hobbs. The superintendent, who had 
 only once or twice in his life made a journey of this 
 magnitude, had come to New York with a most noisy 
 bee in his bonnet. He brought the astonishing news 
 of Eva's flight with Guy, and of the effect it had had 
 upon the senior Linnette. 
 
 " He's a very sick man," said Hobbs, in conclu- 
 sion. " The doctors don't know yet whether they 
 can save him. Everything is confusion at the house, 
 or they would have sent you word sooner." 
 
 Roland looked at Maud, who sat silently listening. 
 
 " I shall go at once, of course," said he. 
 
 Hobbs nodded his approval of this plan. 
 
 " You ought to understand, though," he went on 
 to say, " just what the situation is. Your uncle is 
 violently in love with that girl. He confided to me 
 weeks ago his intention to marry her. Knowing how 
 much you thought of her, I " 
 
 The younger man stopped the speaker by a 
 gesture. 
 
 " You surprised me so by your unexpected ap- 
 pearance," said he, " that I forgot a very important 
 matter. Mr. Hobbs, let me present to you my wife" 
 
 write anything in the remotest degree immoral. He must 
 agree with the conscientious reader that Roland Linnette, 
 after his life of dissipation, deserved no such happy fate as 
 to wed a pure, virtuous maiden like Mise Arline. It looks 
 like rewarding vice, instead of punishing it, which should be 
 the object of all truly moral literature. But in this case, to 
 do otherwise than as I have would dearly spoil my story, 
 and I must choose the lesser of two evils. A. R.
 
 " YOU HAVE M AKRIED HEK I" 291 
 
 The superintendent rose with old-fashioned form- 
 ality, and took the hand that the blushing Maud ex- 
 tended. He was so confused, however, that he could 
 not utter a syllable. 
 
 " You don't understand it," smiled Roland, " and 
 there is no need that you should. My uncle hat 
 been here and fully approves my choice. I lik*d 
 Miss Warren very well, but Maud is the only woman 
 I ever really loved. Now, you can proceed to finish 
 your story, which is not so much of a surprise to me 
 as you might imagine. It was probably the knowl- 
 edge of this feeling on my uncle's part that drove 
 Eva to such a desperate step." 
 
 There was a pause of several minutes, during 
 which Mr. Hobbs was allowed to recover himself. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Linnette, Jr., went into the next room 
 and talked over Roland's projected trip to Montvale, 
 which it did not seem best for her to take with him. 
 It was their first parting, and Maud was doing her 
 best to appear brave. 
 
 " Well, that's about the whole of your story, isn't 
 it ?" said Roland, cheerily, when he returned to his 
 guest's presence. 
 
 " Heavens and earth, no !" exclaimed Hobbs. 
 " You say you were not astonished at what I've 
 already told you, but I'll guarantee you will be 
 before I get through with the rest of it." 
 
 Roland and Maud surveyed the speaker with new 
 interest. 
 
 "You have heard," said Hobbs, "that Mi. Guj 
 Dalton formerly lived at Ryegate, Vermont ?" 
 
 " Yes/' assented Roland.
 
 292 LOVE AT BKVEHTT. 
 
 " And that your uncle had detectives looking for 
 him, in the hope that he would be of valuable service 
 in the recovery of his lost child ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "And you knew, I suppose, that the name of the 
 child's adopted mother was Lincoln?" 
 
 Roland bowed again. 
 
 "Well, what would you think," asked Hobbs, 
 impressively, " if you heard that this same Mr. 
 Dalton's real name is Lincoln, too?" 
 
 The wedded pair looked at each other in wonder- 
 ment. 
 
 " How do you know this ?" asked Roland. 
 
 " I'll tell you. I came to the conclusion some 
 days ago that if anything was to be accomplished in 
 finding that child, someone besides the city detec- 
 tives would have to take a hand. Without saying a 
 word to your uncle I sent Dalton to Vermont to 
 hunt up a son that had been raised by Miss Bertha 
 Lincoln, now deceased, and whose present where- 
 abouts is a matter of pressing interest. I " 
 
 Roland burst into a loud laugh. 
 
 "And you think he went off to hunt for himself !" 
 he cried. 
 
 " It looks like it," said Hobbs, gravely. " I hap- 
 pened to ask him once before if he knew the Lin- 
 coins of Ryegate, and he admitted that he did. He 
 knew the date of Miss Bertha's death, too. When I 
 found him the last time and asked him to go on this 
 errand, he had the strangest look in his eyes you 
 ever saw. And you know how proud he always was 
 ubout money. Well, he took over a hundred dollars
 
 "TOTT HAVE MARRIED HER!" S9S 
 
 that I handed him, without even counting it. He 
 must have known that he would soon be able to pay 
 it back." 
 
 Roland shook his head as if to say it was mysterU 
 ous, truly. 
 
 " Where was it you found him ?" he asked. 
 
 " Right in the middle of the Ellsworth road at 
 Montvale, after ten o'clock at night," answered 
 Hobbs. "Look at the smartness of the fellow. He 
 was undoubtedly hanging around there and com- 
 municating with Miss Warren. And, when he 
 learned through my story to him that he was the 
 lost heir, he arranged this runaway match for fear he 
 would encounter his father's opposition, if he waited 
 until his identity was established. Oh, he's deep 
 enough, I tell you !" 
 
 It looked like a sure case, but another question 
 came to Roland's lips. 
 
 "You haven't told me," he said, "how you dis- 
 covered his true name." 
 
 " It was this way," replied Hobbs. " As I said 
 before, I got tired waiting for these slow detectives. 
 I went to Ellsworth and found a conductor who 
 remembered taking Miss Eva and her maid, whom 
 he knew, to the city on his train. The young fellow 
 shrewdly kept out of the way, and the conductor sup- 
 posed the girls were travelling alone for some good 
 reason. Inquiring among the depot hackmen, I dis- 
 covered the driver who took the entire party to the 
 Bartholdi Hotel. There I learned the name of the 
 minister who was called to perform the marriage,
 
 294 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 and when I went to him he said he had not married 
 any person by the name of Dalton." 
 
 The listeners looked with admiration upon the 
 amateur Vidoq. 
 
 "Goodness!" exclaimed Poland. "You should 
 apply for the position of Chief Inspector at once." 
 
 " The minister told me, pursued the now unruffled 
 Hobbs, " that he had married a ' Mr. Clarence Lin- 
 coln ' to a Miss Eva Warren, at the Bartholdi, day be- 
 fore yesterday. The description of the party tallied 
 with that of our acquaintances." 
 
 As this seemed the end of the superintendent's 
 tale, Mrs. Linnette inquired why Mr. Hobbs had not 
 looked on the hotel register. 
 
 "I did, "was the reply. "And I found that the 
 young fellow had written there, 'Joseph Gibbs and 
 party.' He did not mean to be tracked so easily." 
 
 Roland smiled softly to himself. 
 
 "Just tell us where this Mr. Lincoln is now," said 
 he, " and your remarkable history will do for the 
 foundation of a romance." 
 
 " I wish I could," said Hobbs. " The morning 
 after their marriage they left the Bartholdi, and no 
 one remembers anything indicating the direction 
 they took. The hotel folks supposed it an ordinary 
 wedding trip, and paid no attention to the carriage 
 In which they left." 
 
 The upshot of the conversation that now followed 
 was a decision that the most vigorous search must 
 be instituted for Mr. and Mrs. Clarence Lincoln as 
 it seemed most absurd to call them. Mr. Lincoln 
 must be apprised as soon as possible of the preca-
 
 M TOU HATE MARRIED HER!" 295 
 
 rious condition of his father's health. If all else 
 failed a newspaper personal must be used. 
 
 Mr. Hobbs confessing to being nearly exhausted 
 from lack of sleep, a bedroom was assigned him in 
 which to recuperate, and Roland went out upon the 
 street to begin his search alone. By one of those 
 strange happenings for which no one can account, 
 he had not gone a dozen blocks when he met the 
 object of his hunt, on the Broadway sidewalk. 
 
 Flushing rosy red, Dalton, or Lincoln, as he may 
 now be called, made a stiff bow and attempted to 
 pass without further recognition. But Roland 
 planted himself directly in front of him and spoke 
 with determination. 
 
 " You are the very man I want," he said, with 
 earnestness. " Come, don't be the first to reject ad- 
 vances. Whatever harm I may have done to you 
 was unpremeditated, and should be forgotten now 
 that you have married another woman. I have a 
 most important message to give you. My uncle has 
 been taken very ill, and your presence is conse- 
 quently wanted at Montvale." 
 
 Lincoln's face bore no sign of relenting. 
 "Excuse me," he said. "I have no desire or in- 
 tention of returning to that village. If you know of 
 jy marriage you understand why." 
 
 M I do not understand at all," retorted the other. 
 "After taking the liberty of inheriting the estate 
 that was to have been mine, you can afford to treat 
 me with politeness. If I committed any fault toward 
 Maud Arline, you can hardly reproach me with it, 
 now that she is my wife."
 
 296 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 Lincoln's manner changed with lightning speed. 
 
 " You have married her !" he cried. 
 
 " More than a week ago." 
 
 The extended hand was grasped and shaken 
 heartily, and the two young men were again friends. 
 
 " Well," asked Roland, as they walked along, 
 " how do you like the prospects of becoming a 
 millionaire ?" 
 
 " I do not know what you mean," answered 
 Clarence. 
 
 " Do you tell me," asked Roland, stupidly, " that 
 you have learned nothing about your parentage ? 
 You are unaware that your father is living and very 
 rich ?" 
 
 "Some one has deceived you," was the reply. 
 " My father died twenty years ago." 
 
 Roland shook his head with decision. 
 
 "You are the one who is mistaken," he said. 
 "Your father is certainly living unless he has died 
 within a few hours. In short, you are the son of 
 Willard Linnette, the owner of Montvale. Why, you 
 must know that what I say is true !" 
 
 Then Lincoln smiled for the first time. 
 
 "I know it is not," said he, "and for the best of 
 reasons. I was sent by Mr. Hobbs to ferret out the 
 whereabouts of that child, and I have done so. 
 Before many days I will prove to you what I say." 
 
 Overcome with astonishment Roland invited 
 Clarence home with him, and the invitation was 
 accepted.
 
 EVERYTHING EXPLAINED. 297 
 
 CHAPTER XXXL 
 
 EVERYTHING EXPLAINED. 
 
 Some days later nearly all the characters in our 
 story were gathered at the mansion of the optical 
 instrument maker of Montvale. Seated in the large 
 parlors were Roland Linnette with his wife, Clarence 
 Lincoln with his, Tom Hobbs, Mrs. Warren and a 
 Mr. Lewis, the latter representing the detective 
 agency that had undertaken to restore the missing 
 child of the millionaire. Between all of these 
 people there appeared to be the greatest cordiality, 
 in marked contrast with the divisions that had sep- 
 arated some of them so long. Indeed, there was on 
 each face a good-natured smile, as if the present had 
 a happiness that completely atoned for the troubles 
 of the past. 
 
 It was evident that Mrs. Warren had entirely for- 
 given the escapade of her daughter, for she sat with 
 that young lady's hands in hers, while the proud 
 young husband, not faraway, listened with brighten- 
 ing eyes to the conversation between them. And 
 well might he be pleased, for the burden of Eva's 
 remarks, delivered in a tone just loud enough for 
 him to hear, was that no other girl had ever pos- 
 sessed such a wonderful treasure in the form of a mar- 
 ital mate. The mother's critical eye had no fault to
 
 298 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 find with her daughter's choice, and she was a witness 
 to the old adage that " all's well that ends well." 
 
 Mrs. Roland Linnette, if possible, seemed happier 
 even than her newly-made friend, Eva. Her hus- 
 band was talking in a low key with the detective, 
 Mr. Lewis, and her sweet face was completely 
 wreathed in smiles at the remarks he was making. 
 Occasionally Roland interposed some word that 
 sent the rosy blood to her fair cheek, making her 
 still more beautiful. She had to touch his arm sur- 
 reptitiously very often to keep him within proper 
 bounds, lest the attention of the detective should be 
 called to the stolen pressures given to her hand that 
 lay nearest the contented fellow. The experiences 
 of the bride had not caused her to lose, but rather 
 had accentuated, the modesty so charming in her as 
 a maiden. 
 
 Old Tom Hobbs, of all that group, sat alone. 
 But his face was not a sad one, either. He was 
 pretending to look over a book, that lay on a table 
 at his elbow, and glancing about three times a min- 
 ute at the tall clock in the corner, as if impatient at 
 some delay. 
 
 Finally a door opened, and a tall figure was seen 
 at the threshold. Every one present rose, with the 
 greatest politeness, to welcome Willard Linnette. 
 Tom Hobbs, crossing the room, took the arm of his 
 employer, who was evidently still weak from his 
 sudden illness. In response to a whispered direc- 
 tion, Mr. Linnette was piloted to a seat by his 
 nephew and Maud. The old gentleman walked 
 slowly, but otherwise he looked remarkably well>
 
 EVERYTHING EXPLAINED. 209 
 
 considering everything. Eva whispered to her hus- 
 band, " Isn't he handsome !" as he passed her, and 
 the tired face of her foster-father lit up as the faint 
 sound reached his ear. When Mr. Linnette and the 
 others were seated, Mr. Lewis rose and asked if he 
 should proceed, to which an answer was given in the 
 affirmative. 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen," began the detective. 
 
 " Not so formal," protested the weak voice of Mr. 
 Linnette, Sr. 
 
 "Talk it right out," put in Tom Hobbs. "You 
 can't tell many of us much that we don't know." 
 
 This remark raised a laugh, just the thing that was 
 needed. Mr. Lewis was as glad as the others to 
 have the icy air of the room melted. 
 
 " You all know this, at least," he proceeded. " I am 
 the head of the detective bureau of Lewis & Co., New 
 York. Some weeks since, Mr. Willard Linnette came 
 to me and said he had found evidence that a child of 
 his, in relation to whose birth he had been deceived, 
 had been brought up by a certain Bertha Lincoln, 
 its aunt, residing near the town of Ryegate, Vt. The 
 woman had died some time previous, and the child 
 had disappeared. He wanted us to find it and restore 
 it to him." 
 
 "Which you never would have done if it had not 
 been for me," interposed Hobbs, at which sally every- 
 body laughed again. 
 
 The detective could not resist the general contag- 
 ion, though he felt injured in his professional feel- 
 ings by the observation. 
 
 " I would not say too much if I were you," he
 
 300 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 responded. "You made about the worst mistake in 
 the entire business, as I shall show." 
 
 Then the laugh turned upon Hobbs, who was 
 restrained with difficulty from defending himself, 
 then and there. Only the protesting hand of Mr. 
 Linnette, with its warning finger raised, prevented 
 him. 
 
 " I undertook the job myself," continued Mr. 
 Lewis, when quiet was restored. " I went to Rye- 
 gate with Mr. Linnette, and found that all the points 
 he had been able to give me were correctly made. 
 I found also that Miss Bertha had left her small 
 fortune to her adopted child, committing its interests 
 to a guardian who lived some distance away, in 
 another State. And I discovered that this guardian 
 had proved quite unworthy of his trust, if not 
 actually dishonest, as I believe I shall yet demon- 
 strate." 
 
 Tom Hobbs had fidgeted uneasily in his chair for 
 several seconds, and at this stage in the proceedings 
 he could contain himself no longer. 
 
 "I must protest," he ejaculated, "against this 
 continual speaking of Miss Bertha's adopted child 
 as '//.' When we all understand the matter, it is 
 simply exasperating. That confounded pronoun has 
 bothered me enough, and I don't want to hear it 
 again." 
 
 Another laugh, this time a very hearty one, passed 
 around the circle. 
 
 "You will have to humor him," spoke up the 
 voice of Mr. Linnette. " Tom is a privileged char- 
 acter in Montvale, Mr. Lewis."
 
 EVERYTHING EXPLAINED. 301 
 
 ' What shall I call the child ?" asked the detective, 
 mischievously. " Shall I say ' he f " 
 
 " No, that would be worse yet !" blurted the 
 superintendent. 
 
 All eyes were now turned on Maud, whose face 
 was suffused with blushes. Her husband's uncle 
 had motioned her to his side, and his shaking arm 
 was clasped about her form. Strangely enough, 
 Roland did not seem to object in the least to the 
 proceeding. 
 
 "Very well," said Mr. Lewis. "We will use the 
 right pronoun this time and call the child ' she.' 
 The girl, then, that Miss Bertha Lincoln brought up, 
 and which I have absolutely proved to be the daugh- 
 ter of Willard Linnette, was left in the care of a 
 man named Redding, with the sum of seven thousand 
 dollars. He was believed to be a most honorable 
 man, who would educate her well and give her 
 whatever balance was left when she reached 
 the age of twenty-one. On her deathbed Miss 
 Lincoln's conscience overcame her, and she asked 
 her religious adviser to make an effort to find the 
 child's I should say the girl's father, which we 
 all know he failed to do. If he could not make this 
 discovery, according to Miss Lincoln's desire, the 
 girl was not to be told of her origin, as it would 
 only add to her distress of mind. In that case she 
 was to continue to bear through life the name by 
 which she had been known." 
 
 But here Roland interposed. 
 
 " Not ' through life,' Mr. Lewis f " he protested. 
 
 "Until her marriage, then," corrected the detec-
 
 302 LOVE AT SEYKNTY. 
 
 tive. " Miss Lincoln had pretended that the gir! 
 was taken from an asylum and that her right name 
 was Arline. The man Redding kept this girl till she 
 was of age, and then coolly informed her that the 
 amount left with him for her care was exhausted and 
 that she would have to shift for herself. I have 
 learned and I hope the lady in question will not 
 prevent my repeating it that his course was influ- 
 enced by her refusal of his offer of marriage, he 
 being at that time a widower and much fascinated 
 by his ward's beauty. It is also said " 
 
 Maud's distress was so evident at this point that 
 the detective desisted of his own accord ; while 
 Roland, with a dark look, declared that he would 
 go that very day to find this Redding, and punch 
 his head. 
 
 " At any rate," resumed Mr. Lewis, when the 
 pretty object of his remarks had succeeded in par- 
 tially quieting her beligerent spouse, " this guardian 
 turned Miss Arline out without a penny. She 
 obtained work at the hotel here in Montvale, and 
 from that time her story need not be repeated. She 
 is now acknowledged as the daughter of the father 
 she lost so long, and, as the story books say, they 
 ought to live happily ever after." 
 
 Congratulations to Mrs. Roland followed, lasting 
 several minutes. Eva and Mrs. Warren kissed her 
 several times, and so did her husband, and Mr. Lin- 
 nette, while Tom Hobbs and Mr. Lewis looked as if 
 they had as lief follow suit. 
 
 "And now I wish Mr. Lincoln would explain pre-
 
 EVERYTHING EXPLAINED. 303 
 
 cisely the hand he had in this matter," said the elder 
 Linnette, with his feeble voice. 
 
 Clarence blushed like a school-girl. 
 
 "I had very little part in it, I assure you," he 
 replied. " I knew Miss Arline quite well, and she had 
 told me considerable of her early history. It inter- 
 ested me when I learned where she came from, for I 
 recognized her adopted mother's name as that of a 
 distant relation of my own, whom I had never hap- 
 pened to meet. After this search was begun, Mr. 
 Hobbs, who had heard me speak of Ryegate, engaged 
 me to go there to pick up evidence. In the course 
 of what he told me I learned enough to make me feel 
 sure that Miss Arline would prove to be the lost 
 child. I traced her to the town where she had lived 
 with her guardian and satisfied myself beyond doubt. 
 Then I returned to Montvale " 
 
 He paused, reddening more than ever ; but Mr. 
 Linnette smilingly encouraged him to proceed. 
 
 " And then I went to New York on my on my 
 wedding trip," stammered Lincoln. " I was so full 
 of my own happiness that I could think of nothing 
 else for a few days. I meant to write the full text 
 of my discoveries to Mr. Hobbs, but before I reached 
 that point I met Roland in the street. He told me 
 of his marriage and I saw that everything would be 
 clear." 
 
 A glance of gratification was exchanged between 
 Mrs. Linnette and her father. 
 
 "One thing more," said Roland. "How did it 
 happen that you took the name of ' Guy Dalton ?' " 
 
 " I will tell you. When I left my home in Rye-
 
 304 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 gate I believed I should succeed in making a 
 fortune for myself and return crowned with success. 
 My experience was far otherwise. Bad luck seemed 
 to follow me everywhere, and at the time I came 
 into the counting room here I was so reduced as to be 
 ashamed to own my true name. When you asked it 
 I gave the first one that came to my lips." 
 
 Mr. Linnette called all present to witness that the 
 speaker should never have a like tale to tell after 
 that day. He would give him one of the most im- 
 portant positions at his New York office. At this 
 Eva rose impulsively and went over to press a warm 
 kiss on her foster-father's cheek. 
 
 "The only thing wanting now," said Mr. Lewis, 
 with a smile, " is to have Mr. Hobbs tell us how 
 near he came to convincing Mr. Linnette that our 
 friend Lincoln was his long-lost daughter !" 
 
 The merriment that followed was terrific. Out of 
 it all Tom Hobbs came, resolute and defiant. 
 
 " If some of you had known enough to describe a 
 female child as l she % instead of 'if,' there would have 
 been no trouble," he retorted. " Oh, you needn't 
 join in the laugh at my expense !" he cried, to his 
 employer. "It's the first time I've been wrong in 
 over thirty years, as you'll have to admit." 
 
 Dinner was announced at this juncture, and all 
 proceeded to the dining-room. Willard Linnette 
 walked with a much stronger step than when he en- 
 tered the parlor, for the contagion of good cheer 
 had had its effect on him as well as the others. He 
 was placed at the head of the board, with Maud on
 
 EVERYTHING EXPLAINED. 305 
 
 his right and Eva on his left, their husbands next to 
 them, of course. - 
 
 When the champagne was brought, he rose and in 
 a steady voice asked all present to drink the health, 
 of " My darling daughter, the heiress of Montvale."
 
 306 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 A PEEP AT THE STARS 
 
 Although our story can now be said to be fairly 
 finished, the reader may, if he desires, witness a 
 scene or two that took place in Montvale six months 
 after the events narrated in the last chapter. 
 
 The Linnettes and their most intimate friends and 
 relations were gathered in the mansion, for a re- 
 union. It was evening; and while Willard Linnette 
 and old Tom Hobbs were playing their game of 
 chess in the library, Mr. and Mrs. Clarence Lincoln 
 and Mr. and Mrs. Roland Linnette were engaged in 
 a merry talk over old times. 
 
 " I never shall forget," said Roland, " how pictur- 
 esque Eva's husband looked that day he came into 
 the counting room, If I had been an artist 1 would 
 have given him a hundred dollars to sit for his por- 
 trait. And Rufus what a fuss he did make because 
 the door had let in a little cold air ! I expected his 
 stay at the works would be cut short when the new 
 order of things went into effect." 
 
 " Oh, no," responded Lincoln^ who had reddened 
 a little under his friend's compliment. " Rufus is 
 too valuable a man to turn off. He came to me and 
 offered his resignation, and I told him to tear it up. 
 It won't do to remember old grudges when the time 
 for them has passed."
 
 A. PEEP AT THE STABS. 307 
 
 The ladies applauded this statement, though Eva 
 declared that she could not see how anyone could 
 have had the heart to speak crossly to a poor fellow 
 looking for work on a winter's day ; especially such 
 a nice fellow as Clarence. 
 
 " There were some terribly narrow escapes besides 
 that one," smiled Roland. " It really looked for 
 some time as if I were destined to occupy the 
 eligible position of being your husband. There 
 must be a kind fate that watches over imprudent 
 girls, or you never would have escaped. And we 
 would have made a very poor match, wouldn't we, 
 Eva ?" 
 
 Mrs. Lincoln shook her head, as if she had not 
 the least doubt of it. 
 
 " I was shut up here, you remember," she said, 
 " with nothing to get my ideas from but a lot of 
 ancient novels. So I naturally fell in love with the 
 first man I saw. And then, he was such a persistent 
 one, and so used to affairs of the heart, a more 
 experienced girl might have been beguiled." 
 
 All laughed at the manner of the speaker, which 
 was grimly sarcastic, but Roland replied that if there 
 was anything fickle in this world it was a woman. 
 
 " Why, Clarence," he said, " I had letters by the 
 dozen from your wife, vowing eternal fidelity to me ! 
 What can one expect of a girl like that?" 
 
 " You need not say too much, or I will expose 
 some of your frailties," retorted Lincoln. " I have 
 not forgotten when you told me Maud was in New 
 York, and advised me to call on her, saying I could 
 have 'all your right, title and interest.' "
 
 308 LOVB AT 8EVENTT. 
 
 Maud looked her husband quizzically in the eyes. 
 
 " Did you say that ?" she asked, sweetly. 
 
 "I am afraid I did," he replied, with mock sorrow. 
 " But if he was dunce enough not to accept the 
 offer, he needn't bring it up at this late day." 
 
 This satisfied everybody, and the conversation 
 turned upon the question of Mrs. Lincoln's health. 
 
 " I have been well enough ever since I got out of 
 that everlasting routine of my early life," she said. 
 "I believe half the illness in the world is caused by 
 stagnation of the mind. It begins often in some 
 slight affection and the patient is confined so closely 
 that it grows chronic. You don't think me much of 
 an invalid now, do you ?" she asked her husband. 
 
 His answer was eminently satisfactory on this 
 point. Had it not been, Eva's rich color and the 
 bright gleam in her eyes would have proved her far 
 from the state of an invalid. 
 
 "/ought to be the happiest one of you all," put 
 in Maud, when there was a pause. " Not only have 
 I found a husband, but a father. And you cannot 
 imagine how dear he has grown to me ! I never 
 dreamed that anything could be so tender. His 
 only desire seems to be to ascertain my wishes and 
 comply with them in every respect. How quickly 
 he has recovered, too ! The doctors never come to 
 see him now, and his step is as light as a young 
 man's. He tells me that I ought not to 'sacrifice 
 myself for him, as he calls living here in this beau- 
 tiful house, but nothing would induce me to leave 
 him. Since Roland went into the firm it is the best 
 place for us both/'
 
 A PKEP AT THE STABS. 309 
 
 Her husband admitted this, but said he could not 
 understand why he had found Montvale so dull 
 when he first returned from Europe. It was now, 
 he actually believed, the most delightful place in 
 Christendom. Three or four times a month he and 
 Maud would take runs down to the city, to enjoy 
 the theatre or opera, and stay a night or two ; but 
 for the rest of the time there was something won- 
 derfully attractive in that little village in the hills. 
 
 " Do you hear anything lately from Charlotte ?" 
 asked Maud of Eva. 
 
 " Yes, and she is perfectly contented. It is odd 
 to think that all the time I was confiding to her my 
 own heart troubles she was having an ' affair ' of her 
 own. I was thunderstruck when she told me she 
 was engaged, and that the day was set for her wed- 
 ding. He is a nice fellow, I judge, from his apoear- 
 ance and all she says of him. They were over- 
 whelmed with the check you sent them, and are 
 going to put the amount into a cottage. I have 
 promised to go and see them when they get settled." 
 
 The party of talkers then broke up, each couple 
 going to their own apartments, the young brides 
 kissing each other affectionately as they parted. 
 
 In the library, Mr. Linnette, Sr., played his game 
 of chess with Tom Hobbs. Between the moves they 
 talked of various things, as was their habit 
 
 " I'm going to give Lincoln an interest in the 
 business next month," said Mr. Linnette, " He's 
 showing great capacity, and he might as well be 
 under cover."
 
 310 LOVE AT SEVENTY. 
 
 "Can't get over the old feeling about his wife, 
 can you ?" smiled Hobbs. 
 
 The manufacturer drew a long breath. 
 
 " Not over the old feeling, no," he responded. 
 " She will always seem like another daughter to me. 
 But, as true as I sit here, I'm glad she has a husband 
 fitter for her nearer her years than I would have 
 been." 
 
 Hobbs growled that it was a good thing for a man 
 to have common sense, even if it did come late in life. 
 
 "The biggest joke of the century, though," he 
 added, " is the way Roland outwitted you. When it 
 looked as if he hadn't a single chance to inherit a 
 cent of yours, he stepped into the whole pile by acci- 
 dent. I always was fond of the scamp, and I'm 
 glad he's turning out so well." 
 
 Mr. Linnette nodded, reminiscently. 
 
 " I have heard all about his kindness to Clarence," 
 said he, " and it shows he was never as bad as I 
 imagined. It looked, at one time, as if the saving of 
 that boy's life had deprived him of his inheritance, 
 but he never said a word, even after their quarrel. 
 Do you know, Tom, what it was that completely 
 revolutionized my feelings toward Roland ?" 
 
 Hobbs indicated a negative. 
 
 " It was the horrible heartlessness of my brother. 
 I have not been to see him since the day he refused 
 his son the paltry amount he asked to save him from 
 starvation. If it were not for Maud's protest I 
 would have cut him off without another sou. He 
 had no excuse but that of miserliness. There was 
 no trouble between him and Roland, as there was in
 
 A PEEP AT THE STABS. 811 
 
 my case. The young fellow had said pretty hard 
 things to me, I can tell you, but when I heard what 
 Payson did I forgot them all." 
 
 The game was finished. Hobbs rose and put on 
 his hat. 
 
 "Well," he said, as he turned to go, " those young 
 folks seem pretty happy, don't they?" 
 
 " Yes," was the serene reply. " We are all happy 
 over the outcome of things, I am sure." 
 
 The night was clear. Above his head the astron- 
 omer could see a thousand stars whose names he 
 knew and whose diameters he had measured. One 
 was all alone in its part of the heavens, as if the 
 others, who clustered in groups, shunned its com- 
 pany. But the lone star gave its full share to the 
 splendor of the night ! 
 
 Up the stairs to his chamber walked the old man 
 with a slow step. Passing the rooms where slum- 
 bered the wedded couples, rich in their youth and 
 marital felicity, he found his vacant pillow and 
 stretched himself to a sleep that was untroubled. 
 And the moon's rays touched his features with a soft 
 and mellow light, typical of the infinite repose 
 which comes to one who has met his Enemy and 
 vanquished him utterly ! 
 
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 THE MAKING OF A SUCCESSFUL WIFE 
 
 By CASPER S. YOST. $1.00. 
 
 THE MAKING OF A SUCCESSFUL HUSBAND 
 
 to CASPER S. YOST. Si.oo.
 
 UCSB LIBRARY