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 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE
 
 SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 LYNDELL SHERBURNE. 
 
 SHERBURNE COUSINS. 
 
 A SHERBURNE ROMANCE. 
 
 THE MISTRESS OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 THE CHILDREN AT SHERBURNE HOUSE. 
 
 SHERBURNE GIRLS. 
 
 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE.
 
 THE 
 
 HEIR OF SHERBURNE 
 
 BY 
 
 AMANDA M. DOUGLAS 
 
 Author of " A Little Girl in Old New York," « Floyd 
 
 Grandon's Honor," " Larry," Etc. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 DODD, MEAD & COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 Copyright 1899 
 
 by 
 
 Dodd, Mead & Company
 
 SADIE M. COMPTON. 
 
 There are terraces to life— Childhood, Youth, 
 Womanhood, and then a long garden-walk 
 wherein we gather what other hands have 
 sown, and plant anew for those who shall come 
 after us. 
 
 A. M. D. 
 
 Newark, 1899.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. An Outgrowing I 
 
 II. What the Morning Brought 17 
 
 III. A Luncheon Party 3 2 
 
 IV. In the Retrospect 49 
 
 V. The Bosom of the Family 62 
 
 VI. In a Strait Betwixt Two 79 
 
 VII. Acceptance 95 
 
 VIII. Getting Settled io 9 
 
 IX. A Touch of Nature 1 26 
 
 X. A Flock of Girls '44 
 
 XI. Unwisdom 162 
 
 XII. And then Consideration 177 
 
 XIII. A Lover on the Winning Side 193 
 
 XIV. A Discord of Unreason 209 
 
 XV. A Harmony in Gold 225 
 
 XVI. Told in a Glance 242 
 
 XVII. Poisoning Truth 256 
 
 XVIII. The Light that Illumines 277 
 
 XIX. From Youth to Manhood 294 
 
 XX. The Lamp of Reason 311 
 
 XXI. The High Resolves of Youth 328 
 
 XXII. A Broad, Bright Space 343 
 
 XXIII. The Lessons of Life 359 
 
 XXIV. In the Old House 377 
 
 vii
 
 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AN OUTGROWING. 
 
 TT7HEN Gertrude Maurice stepped out of the hand- 
 * * somely appointed train on the main-line, and after 
 half an hour's tedious waiting, entered the second-rate 
 branch line, the whole world seemed to change to her. 
 She had kept up her delusion as long as possible. The 
 well-dressed, prosperous looking people, the middle-aged 
 women with an air of good breeding and knowledge of 
 the world, the young women with the aspect of being 
 satisfactorily settled in life, the buds of one or two seasons 
 who had not yet left off their winsome smiles ; men of 
 conscious experience, young fellows radiating a society 
 atmosphere of exclusiveness, and other young fellows 
 plain and happy, starting on a summer vacation. 
 
 What a different aspect this way train presented. The 
 green plush was dingy and faded. There were not many 
 passengers at this hour. Several women with unruly 
 children, country-looking men who stared about vacantly, 
 a few showily gowned girls with unmodulated voices, and 
 an air of having had a good time somewhere, and willing 
 the rest of the world should know it and envy them.
 
 2 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Gertrude had a seat to herself. She put her satchel 
 beside her, piled up her papers, glanced around and was 
 glad she did not know any one, then settled in a delicate, 
 leisurely fashion. The summer was over. That kind of 
 delightful experience was ended for her. She was going 
 back to common life, very common it looked to her. If 
 she could run away and drop out of both worlds — her 
 world of nineteen years, and the great future world — she 
 was quite sure, with the unreason of youth, life could 
 never hold so felicitous an episode again. 
 
 For she had hovered on the borders of an enchanted 
 land, and glanced at a love that might have been hers, a 
 love such as she had never dreamed would come into her 
 life, had understood by some sudden prescience how to 
 win it. A raising of the eyes in mute appeal, a clasp of 
 the hand, a sentence begun in haste and broken off with 
 a blush, a quick acceptance of a proffer of sympathy 
 that had just back of it another meaning. A happy, 
 restful life for all the years to come ! 
 
 She had not made the sign. She wished Mr. Murray 
 knew the exact motive that had hurried her quick nega- 
 tive to his half-asking. If it had been a little more defi- 
 nite, if he had not treated her anxiety to find a standing 
 place in the world with that — yes, it was indifference ! 
 His idea of a woman's sphere was a graceful willow chair 
 on a veranda, and brightness enough to be entertaining. 
 Well — truth to tell, her ambition was not much higher. 
 Princess Beaumaiioir had aims, Violet Osborne was a 
 genius, but she could be content with a pleasant life. 
 Yet in many things she could attain to the standard of these 
 Sherburne and Beaumanoir people. And she wished he 
 could understand the delicacy that had kept her from 
 reaching out for the prize she coveted, the pride and
 
 AN OUTGROWING. 3 
 
 delicacy she had flaunted in the face of Princess Beau- 
 manoir. 
 
 The train stopped. The sleepy little town looked 
 drowsier than when she had left it. There were a few 
 idlers about the station, and two of them nodded to her, 
 which brought a flush of indignation to her cheek. 
 
 Two girls were coming along the street. This was the 
 passenger side. The other led down to the business por- 
 tion of the town. 
 
 " O Gertie ! " A tall girl with an unformed figure and 
 extremely youthful face gave her an enthusiastic embrace. 
 
 Her companion was shorter, more womanly and sedate. 
 
 "OLu! O Agnes ! " 
 
 "Hasn't it been splendid! And how you stayed! 
 Mother was quite sure when you wrote about that 
 club." 
 
 " Don't talk nonsense, Lu," commanded the elder in an 
 authoritative tone. " How well you look, Gertrude. We 
 have enjoyed the letters so much. It was almost like an 
 outing for all of us." 
 
 " I'd a hundred times rather had the real thing," in- 
 terposed Lu. 
 
 " O, my trunk. I must go back with the check." 
 
 " Never mind. We will send 'Lonzo down with the 
 wheelbarrow and save half the charge." 
 
 It had come to the reign of small economies again. 
 
 They turned away from the station, away from the 
 river as well. Lu took the satchel. It had a flavor of 
 the coast of Maine and traveling. 
 
 The plain little town and the houses had grown old 
 together. There were wide shaded streets with grassy 
 edges to the sidewalks paved with planks. Gardens and 
 fruit-trees, and beyond farms and woodlands.
 
 4 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 Gertrude surveyed her sisters half sorrowfully, half 
 critically. Agnes' yellow-grey stuff gown was most un- 
 becoming. Her sailor hat, black, with a black ribbon was 
 rather dingy, stiff and ugly. Lu looked better in her 
 cambric frock that was not quite long, though she had 
 surreptitiously let it down. "Two grown girls were 
 enough," Mrs. Maurice said, "and one of them must be 
 married before Lu could leave girlhood." 
 
 "I wouldn't mind if I wasn't such a Maypole," 
 grumbled Lu, complainingly. Agnes had been grown up 
 since she was twelve years old. 
 
 "Everybody is well," commented Gertrude. 
 
 " O yes, though poor father doesn't seem quite up to the 
 mark ; I wish he could have a holiday, but we really can't 
 afford it. Elsie has had the measles — very light. Elsie 
 and Virgie have never had the mumps, and there have 
 been several cases. I dare say they will get it as soon as 
 school begins. It is a pity they could not have had it in 
 vacation." 
 
 "Mumps and measles for a welcome home," giggled 
 Lu. Gertie laughed as well. How ridiculous it was ! 
 
 "Of course we are delighted to get you back, but it 
 did not seem as strange as if you had not been away at 
 school. And we were so interested in your nice trip. It 
 was very good of your friends to lengthen out the pleas- 
 ure, and your letters were a treat." 
 
 Agnes' dull face brightened. Gertrude was right when 
 she said there was not a handsome one among the five 
 girls. She had a certain piquancy with her purplish eyes 
 and fair hair, but her complexion was many shades too 
 dark. Agnes seemed all of one color. Her hair was a 
 soft, dead brown, her eyes a light brown. Lu was much 
 fairer, with a chestnut tinge to her hair, but freckled,
 
 AN OUTGROWING. S 
 
 which made her look sallow. And she did hate freckles 
 so ! 
 
 "There is no adjective that would do the outing any 
 justice," said Gertrude, with a long inspiration. "O, I 
 wish you all could have been there ! ' ' 
 
 " Father and everybody? " Lu giggled again. 
 
 Gertrude swallowed hard to keep the scarlet out of her 
 face. Did money make all this difference? 
 
 " I wish we had a lot of relations," began Lu. " And 
 we haven't one cousin. All that crowd were cousins, 
 weren't they? And it must be just splendid to have so 
 much money ! I suppose they are all as rich as Aunt 
 Sampson ? Well, you have made some elegant friends, 
 Gertrude Maurice." 
 
 And she — Gertrude had stepped out of this charmed 
 circle forever. There would be a gulf between her and 
 Princess Beaumanoir, who had been the moving spirit of 
 the golden summer. 
 
 A neighbor met them, full of cordial curiosity. " What 
 was Maine like ? And Yankee people ? Was New York 
 any grander than Philadelphia, for all the talk? She 
 hoped to get to Philadelphia before she died. And Susie 
 went to Cape May. Marty's husband took her along 
 with them. You must come over and compare notes 
 about your journeys." 
 
 Gertrude nodded smilingly. 
 
 They walked up a path bordered by tall dahlias. An 
 old-fashioned, one-story and a half house, with a wide 
 porch, overhung by a dilapidated shingle roof. A small, 
 delicate, middle-aged woman sat in a splint rocker mend- 
 ing some thread lace, a souvenir of her youth. She did 
 not rise, but glanced up in a dignified manner. Gertrude 
 bent over and kissed her.
 
 6 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 She examined the girl minutely. Then she cleared her 
 throat with a delicate sound that she considered im- 
 pressive. 
 
 " You have improved in style," she said, graciously. 
 " I am glad you have had such an excellent opportunity, 
 and I do hope you have improved that also. I wonder 
 they did not keep you in New York awhile. There are 
 so many more chances for society." 
 
 Gertrude went through the wide hall with its painted 
 floor, and up the worn stairs. There were four rooms be- 
 low and a summer kitchen ; four chambers upstairs with 
 sloping roof and with windows in the end. She and 
 Agnes shared the same room. There was a large, old- 
 fashioned, high-post bedstead that reached down to the 
 slant in the ceiling. A bureau, a dressing-table, a lounge, 
 fashioned and covered by the deft hands of the second 
 daughter, some engravings, curiously framed, one in 
 beautiful silvery grey lichen. The old chairs had chintz 
 covers and looked inviting. 
 
 "O, Agnes, how you would have liked Robin's Point 
 and the house. It seems a shame for me to have had it 
 all!" in a passionate, half-regretful tone. "And you 
 have just stayed here and drudged ! " 
 
 Gertrude clasped her arms around her sister in re- 
 morseful tenderness, and kissed the flushed cheek. 
 
 "No, I do not call it drudging; I like it," and the 
 face brightened. "And I have been furbishing up the 
 parlor. Mr. Rowdon made me a frame for that St. Agnes 
 you brought home and I covered it with a strip of that 
 wine-colored poplin, and you can't think how beautiful it 
 looks. He made a new little table and we have oiled and 
 polished it until you would think it fresh from a store. 
 And I have covered the old rocker with some new, pretty
 
 AN OUTGROWING. 7 
 
 cretonne in wood colors and yellow, with glints of red. 
 Mother hated dreadfully to have the brocade covered 
 up, but I like fresh, clean chintz better than pretentious 
 rags." 
 
 " What a treasure you are to a home, Agnes ! I take 
 all the good things and do nothing in return. But when 
 the trunk comes I have some remembrances you will en- 
 joy. I did not forget you with all the good times." 
 
 " I suppose those people are all very rich." 
 
 Agnes sighed at the end of her question, but there was 
 no envy in it. 
 
 "Yes. But they are the kind of people you never 
 connect with money. I suppose it is because they are so 
 accustomed to it and their wants are all gratified before 
 they are hardly wants. It is a delightful way to live. If 
 Aunt Sampson had been like any of them ! " 
 
 " I must go down and look after the supper. And 
 there come Virgie and Elsie. O, I must send 'Lonzo for 
 the trunk." 
 
 'Lonzo was a big shambling fellow who gardened and 
 did chores for the neighbors. 
 
 Gertrude freshened herself up a bit, brushed her hair 
 and put on a clean shirt waist she found in the drawer. 
 Then she went down and was almost smothered with a 
 double greeting from the two who had not yet arrived at 
 the dignity of "teens." 
 
 After that her father, who shook hands cordially and 
 looked her all over, then asked if he could have supper 
 right away, as he had to go down to Gregory's and make 
 an estimate on some lumber. 
 
 So they had supper and the trunk came. There was a 
 painting by Violet Osborne, a group of the four girls, 
 photographs of the children, books, rare shells, a sash
 
 8 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 for Lu, some pretty goods for waists, ribbons, lace and 
 chiffon. 
 
 " I'd rather have had a silk frock than all the stuff," 
 declared Lu, disdainfully. 
 
 " These were gifts of friendship," replied Gertrude, 
 with spirit. " I was fed and entertained, but there was 
 no bargain about my being clothed." 
 
 "Gertrude, do not take your sister up in that sharp 
 fashion," said her mother, fretfully. "I have known 
 people who did even that for a guest. It isn't such an 
 uncommon thing." 
 
 "There are some letters for Gertie," said Agnes, com- 
 ing in, though she had heard her mother's rather shrill 
 voice in the little kitchen. It was soft in its lower tones, 
 indolent, but when she was not pleased, and raised it 
 a little, it lost its pleasant sound. 
 
 "O yes, three ! " exclaimed Virgie. "I brought one 
 in this morning. I put them on the tray " 
 
 "I took them in my room. They are — but it can't 
 make any difference to-night. And really, you ought to 
 tell us about your visit and the people you met. Was 
 that club composed of men, alone ? But of course there 
 were plenty of married women to matronize you all. Are 
 those other girls in society? " 
 
 "O no. They are going back to school." 
 
 "Then, Gertrude, I think you ought to have done 
 something for yourself. There are so many of you girls, 
 and your poor father has his hands full. I don't know 
 what would become of you all if anything should happen 
 to him. And you have had the best of everything. You 
 are like your father, you never can see a golden oppor- 
 tunity." 
 
 "I'll have to earn my golden opportunities myself, I
 
 AN OUTGROWING. 9 
 
 am afraid," responded Gertrude, with a tremolo in her 
 voice that was meant to do duty for a half laugh. "I 
 have not the beauty to captivate people off-hand. And 
 everybody seemed to think more of fun and dancing than 
 sentiment. ' ' 
 
 " Some of the most successful women have not been 
 handsome. I remember when I was young there was 
 one girl who had only to raise her finger and men would 
 flock to her. And she was very plain. I'm sure I don't 
 see why you should all take after your father and the 
 Sampson tribe ' ' 
 
 "The Maurice tribe it must have been," interposed 
 Lu, with her giggle. "Aunt Sampson claims that she 
 was a handsome young woman, and she was thirty-five 
 when she married. Goodness me ! Even at that rate 
 Gertie would have sixteen years' grace." 
 
 " Luella, I would try and cultivate a little sense," said 
 her mother, sharply. " I hope none of you will ever live 
 to know the trial of a family of girls. And if Gertrude 
 had been a boy the family fortunes would have been as- 
 sured." 
 
 There was a step on the porch, and a figure loomed in 
 the half-light. Agnes held up her hand suddenly to her 
 mother, who turned and confronted Mr. Rowdon. 
 
 " So the truant has returned. Why, Gertrude, how 
 blooming you look, and sunburned ! A good healthy 
 color, and your eyes shine like beads. I suppose the 
 young sparks you have been with would say stars or 
 something, but I'm a plain, old-fashioned fellow, and say 
 the first thing that pops into my head ! Had a first-class 
 time, I s'pose. I dare say you will hardly be able to 
 get back to the level of us common folks." 
 
 Such unstudied remarks made it difficult for Mrs.
 
 io THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Maurice to smile on her prospective son-in-law. Gertie 
 did deserve something higher after all her education. 
 She was prepared with many little snubs if the eldest 
 daughter had returned with an engagement ring on her 
 finger, but she had not, and the mother refrained from 
 motives of policy. 
 
 They all went out on the porch. There was a long 
 bench under the windows. Gertrude slipped into the 
 end seat, and had her arm around little Elsie, so she 
 was flanked on both sides. Mr. Rowdon took the big 
 armchair and began to question Gertrude in a rather 
 jocose way. There were many entertaining things to say 
 of course, and she exerted herself to cover the whole 
 ground, which she did until her father returned. Agnes 
 had finished with the dishes and came out. 
 
 "Lu," Gertie whispered, "go in mother's room and 
 get those letters, won't you, please?" 
 
 She returned presently with two of them. 
 
 " I can't find the other one," she said. " These laid 
 on mother's bureau. The other had a sort of bluish en- 
 velope, and was sealed with wax, and just said in the 
 corner return to some place, Philadelphia." 
 
 The two were from the school agency. Elsie had 
 dropped asleep on her sister's arm. She was a slim little 
 thing, small for her ten years. 
 
 "I'll take her to bed," said Gertrude, glad of an ex- 
 cuse to get away. 
 
 When she had her little sister safely consigned to her 
 pillow, and asleep in an instant, she opened her letters. 
 One was from a Western boarding-school recently started. 
 In return for teaching numerous English branches, while 
 the salary was low, there would be compensating advan- 
 tages in pursuing the studies of music, French, German,
 
 AN OUTGROWING. n 
 
 and some collegiate branches. The other wanted every- 
 thing, experience and a college degree, with a salary of 
 twenty dollars per month and board. 
 
 "I couldn't fill that, and no doubt I should get half 
 starved in the other place," mused the girl. " I have 
 let the chance for governess slip, and it does seem as 
 if no one in the world really wanted me. To spend 
 thirty or forty dollars going West, and then perhaps be 
 stranded ' ' 
 
 Had she been a foolish girl to let a little scruple of 
 pride and honor interfere when she might have been the 
 wife of a charming and attractive man, and — yes, in spite 
 of the years between she could have loved him very 
 dearly. She buried her face in the pillow and felt the 
 overflow of tears. She was miserable after all her happy 
 summer. Perhaps if she had stayed at home she would 
 never have known — but she knew now what love could be 
 like. She had made a tremendous sacrifice with the 
 wastefulness of youth, and there was no approving con- 
 science to sustain her. She might as well have been 
 happy and prosperous and beloved. O, was she quite sure 
 Constantine Murray truly loved her and had not been 
 amusing himself? Ah, that was the sting, the half doubt. 
 But if she had accepted him it would all have been set- 
 tled and she knew he would have proven the very soul of 
 honor. 
 
 "Gertrude, mother wants you to come downstairs," 
 was the peremptory summons from Luella. "Whatever 
 have you been doing up here this ever so long ? " 
 
 She went down without a word. Virginia sat by the 
 dining-table reading. Her father had excused himself 
 and retired ; he was always fatigued when night came. 
 
 "Mr. Rowdon wants to hear about your journey, Ger-
 
 12 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 trin Ir," her mother began in an amiable tone that to her 
 ear had a smothered anger in it. 
 
 " Yes, you might about as well say Europe to me as 
 Maine, ' ' announced that gentleman. "I've had an idea all 
 along that it was up northeast, and freezing cold ten months 
 of the year, with miles and miles of pine barrens and timber 
 of various sorts. The idea of any one going off there 
 when there was Cape May and Atlantic City, and Long 
 Branch if you want to go north, and all Delaware and 
 Maryland shore. But I declare, I said to Agnes, your 
 letters beat me all out. You were not drawing on your 
 imagination now, were you ? " 
 
 "The half has not been told," Gertrude began with 
 an effort at gayety. ' ' You see the world is so large and 
 there are a great many people in it. They search for 
 pleasure as well as gold and diamonds. They go up to 
 Alaska and over to Africa, so why shouldn't those who do 
 not care so much for the gold and diamonds have the 
 pleasure? " 
 
 "Well — I s'pose it must be pleasure to them, but I 
 don't believe I'd care for it. And you mean to say that 
 Maine is like — like " 
 
 "It is beautiful, all the long coast dotted with islands 
 and bays and points and vessels of every kind, yachts in 
 gala array, steamboats flying to and fro, fishing boats, 
 until it looks as if half the world had gathered there on 
 a picnic. And Mount Desert Island is just full of society 
 people with hotels and cottages." 
 
 " Well ! well ! I can't get over it. I've always stayed 
 at home, though I did once go to New York, but every- 
 thing seemed dreadful high, and Maria, she thought 
 'twas such an awful wicked city. But she wouldn't even 
 go to Philadelphia. I think Maria did get to be awful
 
 AN OUTGROWING. 13 
 
 close in those last years. And I've about made up my 
 mind to enjoy life, but I don't believe I want to go gali- 
 vantin' around in strange places very much. A good 
 home is about my idea of comfort." 
 
 " A good home is an excellent thing for a man, and 
 especially for a woman. Parents die and old homes must 
 be broken up, so it is wisdom to form the new ones. I 
 have no patience with the new education of girls that 
 makes them clerks and telegraph operators and what not, 
 and leaves them utterly incompetent to manage a home. 
 I mean that my girls shall know how to make the men 
 they marry happy and comfortable." 
 
 "Very good, Mrs. Maurice. Excellent," and he rubbed 
 his hands together. "Comfortable, that's the word. 
 Now Maria was a first-rate housekeeper, a little close in 
 some things, but I don't really think she understood com- 
 fort. Of course I couldn't get along for steady company 
 with that Betsey Young, but then I don't mean to ; " and 
 he gave a soft chuckle. 
 
 "O no, of course not," said Mrs. Maurice, breaking 
 the rather long silence with an air of conscious knowl- 
 edge. 
 
 "I don't s'pose there is much raised in the way of 
 farming and garden stuff up there in Maine ? And the 
 winters must be just fearful." 
 
 This was addressed to Gertrude. 
 
 "I shouldn't care to spend a winter on the coast, 
 though the natives do not complain. The winter storms 
 must be magnificent." 
 
 "I guess we'll keep to our own tight little Delaware. 
 We have some pretty fine storms for people who enjoy 
 such things. But I have heard that sailors were not 
 really fond of storms."
 
 i 4 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 The conversation languished and Agnes came to its as- 
 sistance. Mr. Rowdon dropped into a silence unusual 
 for him. He glanced first at one girl, then at the other. 
 Every moment Gertrude seemed more of a stranger to 
 him, and there was a dawning sense of discomfort. His 
 summer had been very pleasant. He had considered 
 himself in some sense half or more engaged to Gertrude. 
 Her parents looked favorably on his suit. It had taken 
 her by surprise and she had said — well, he couldn't quite 
 recall whether she had declined his proposal, or had it 
 under consideration, as her mother delicately put the fact. 
 With such a houseful of girls he had an idea any of 
 them would be ready to marry at a good opportunity 
 since there was nothing more to expect from this queer 
 old rich aunt whose annuity would die with her. But he 
 had a feeling now that Agnes would make a man much 
 more comfortable. He felt so friendly and at ease with 
 her. She was an excellent housekeeper, too. 
 
 The French clock on the parlor mantel chimed out the 
 half-hour. People in the small town were primitive in 
 their habits. He would have a little walk, a look around 
 to see that things inside and out were safe, and he liked 
 to be in bed by ten o'clock. So he rose and said good- 
 night. 
 
 Mrs. Maurice retired to her room in a dignified man- 
 ner. She would plan her talk with Gertrude the next 
 morning, and if there was any fancy or any opportunity 
 she would be sure to find it out. She prided herself 
 upon her penetration, and as is often the case she had 
 very little. 
 
 Agnes went out to the kitchen to arrange a few mat- 
 ters for morning, and then they trooped upstairs. How 
 bright and cheerful she was !
 
 AN OUTGROWING. 15 
 
 "Don't you think Mr. Rowdon has improved wonder- 
 fully?" she asked, with an eager smile. "You know 
 we used to laugh at his peculiarities, and father said they 
 just hated his skimping ways at the yard. But I do think 
 it was Miss Maria's influence. He has built a pretty 
 porch on two sides of his house, and he is talking of 
 putting in a bow-window. And you would hardly be- 
 lieve how fond he is of nice little things. He is growing 
 quite ambitious to be like other folks." 
 
 Gertrude yawned and began to take down her hair. 
 What had inspired this praise? 
 
 "I expect you are just tired out. We won't talk an- 
 other bit, for there will be all to-morrow." 
 
 "Agnes, no one half appreciates your goodness. I 
 have accepted all your sacrifices without a thought and 
 made no return. I am a selfish heathen ! " 
 
 " I don't know as there has been much real sacrifice," 
 and one could almost feel the smile that inspired the 
 cheery tone. It pricked the elder's heart. " I have quite 
 trained Lu in some housekeeping ways this summer, and 
 if you had been home she would not have seen the neces- 
 sity of taking hold." 
 
 "O I wish " 
 
 There was a silence, and Agnes knelt down to say her 
 brief prayer. What did she, Gertrude, wish ? All man- 
 ner of impossible things. They haunted her pillow after 
 the lights were out, and even when Agnes was drawing 
 the long, regular inspirations of slumber. Why had fate 
 sent Aunt Sampson with her promising proposals that 
 turned to dry ashes in their fruition ? For if she had 
 never gone away from home and been content with her 
 surroundings and — yes — married and spent an equable 
 humdrum life instead of feeling capable of something
 
 1 6 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 higher and wider and truer, and never being able to 
 reach it ! She had hoped the summer would lead to a 
 certain possibility, not an engagement of marriage, but a 
 way to earn her own living and a little beside. There 
 were girls and women doing it cheerfully, honorably. O, 
 how did they find standing-room ? 
 
 She tormented herself with the everlasting questions 
 that youth so often fights through, to find them unanswer- 
 able until the light of experience is turned upon them, 
 sometimes too late to be of real service. Yet all ex- 
 perience strengthens and enriches unless it be bitter in- 
 deed. But just now she could not see any real purpose 
 in the golden summer, that had raised her above the 
 petty round. Perhaps her mother was right, she had not 
 made the most of her advantages.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 WHAT THE MORNING BROUGHT. 
 
 "IT THEN Gertrude Maurice came downstairs the next 
 * * morning, Agnes and her father were sitting over 
 a cozy breakfast. He nodded a welcome. 
 
 " You see Agnes has taken good care of your admirer," 
 he said, jocosely. " Why the whole town is talking of 
 the change in him. Old maids ought never be allowed 
 to boss a family. If Maria Rowdon had lived he would 
 just have grown queerer and queerer, and now he's get- 
 ting so sensible and reasonable they're 'most sorry down 
 to the yard that they pushed him out. Tom Lindsley 
 wants him to start again with him, but there isn't busi- 
 ness enough in this town for two firms. You girls try to 
 persuade him out of it." 
 
 He gave Gertrude a meaning look as he rose and took 
 his hat. Lu entered the room at the same instant, and 
 the two younger girls came straggling along sleepily. 
 
 Agnes made some toast and poured a cup of coffee and 
 asked Lu to take it in to her mother, who never rose until 
 later in the morning. 
 
 Gertrude felt as if a net was being drawn about her. 
 There was a curious constriction in her throat. Had all 
 other opportunities failed that she might see clearly that 
 this was her duty ? What really made duty ? Must one 
 thrust aside the longing for something higher and be con- 
 tent with second best ? O, surely not in marriage ! 
 
 *7
 
 1 8 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "Here's that other letter," exclaimed Lu. "It had 
 dropped down behind the lace box on mamma's 
 bureau." 
 
 There was something about the missive that appealed 
 at once to Gertrude. The envelope was a delicate grey 
 in tint, and in spite of its journey with all sorts and con- 
 ditions of mail matter, it had preserved an intangible 
 suggestion of fragrance. Then too, it was sealed with 
 wax, and it had a New York postmark. Her heart was 
 up in her throat. O what a silly girl ! She opened it 
 resolutely and read it over the second time before she 
 could grasp its meaning, and then she gave a long sigh of 
 delight. 
 
 "O girls — listen. This is splendid! A lady who 
 travels a great deal wants a secretary who can write a 
 good hand, answer a letter, read aloud, copy, and make 
 herself useful. And Mrs. St. John recommended me. 
 Wasn't it lovely in her? But — see here. She came to 
 Philadelphia, — last evening it must have been, and asks 
 me to meet her any time after twelve, to-day. O, I 
 shall have to get ready at once. The noon train would 
 make me too late." 
 
 " Let me see. ' ' Agnes held out her hand for the letter. 
 Gertrude gave it unhesitatingly. 
 
 " Wouldn't it be queer if it was something satisfactory ? 
 I like the writing and the wording. And— if I should 
 suit " 
 
 "Would you go?" asked Agnes. 
 
 "Why, of course. It would be ever so much more 
 agreeable than teaching, which I should always despise. 
 And Mrs. St. John would not endorse anything that was 
 not proper and right." 
 
 "And to travel!" cried Lu. "Well, you do drop
 
 WHAT THE MORNING BROUGHT. 19 
 
 down en beds of clover. First going to school, then go- 
 ing to Maine, and now — well you may go to Europe." 
 
 Gertrude smiled a little. There had been some thorns 
 in the clover beds. 
 
 " I must go and get ready. O, there is mamma." 
 
 "I'll take the note in and tell her. You think you 
 must go, Gertie?" There was hesitation in look and 
 tone. 
 
 "It is a matter of life — liberty and pursuit of happi- 
 ness. O, Agnes, how good you are ! " 
 
 She gave her a fond squeeze and kissed her warmly. 
 The Maurice girls rarely kissed out of pure gratitude or 
 tenderness, merely from a sense of duty. 
 
 Gertie flew upstairs and rearranged her hair, took some 
 faded flowers out of her hat and put in a black velvet 
 bow, considered her frocks and thought the brown cloth 
 the most business-y. She had some fresh brown gloves. 
 How hard it was always to be thinking about your 
 clothes ! 
 
 Agnes came up. 
 
 "Mother is very much opposed to your going," she 
 began, but her tone was not discouraging. " You may 
 not suit, and you may not like this Mrs. Townsend, and 
 anyhow you will come back by evening. Gertie — there is 
 another question to decide." 
 
 " I have decided. O, don't talk it over now, I can- 
 not hear a word about it," and her tone was a beseeching 
 protest. 
 
 " It will be as well to put on your hat before you go in 
 to mamma. Don't ruffle her any more than you can 
 help. I suppose twenty or thirty years ago girls and 
 family relations were different, and you know, Gertie, 
 how bitter mamma feels about girls going out in the
 
 20 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 world to do anything. I should be frightened to death. 
 I'd rather scrub floors and cook and iron — but you are 
 different. And you know more about outside matters." 
 
 There was a scene in " mamma's room." She was in 
 a pretty white morning gown, with yards and yards of 
 sheer ruffling, for she despised cheap laces. And she 
 wished Mr. Maurice was at home to forbid Gertrude go- 
 ing on this wild escapade to a strange city, alone, and 
 meeting a stranger she knew nothing about, who might 
 have some deep laid scheme to entrap her. And this 
 plan of seeking her fortune like any runaway boy was de- 
 testable and shameful ! 
 
 "But I went up to New York and nothing happened 
 to me. And I have gone to school alone. Mamma, the 
 world is so different from your idea of it, and with my 
 education I ought to do something, when there are so 
 many of us." 
 
 "You can marry," said the mother, with withering 
 emphasis. "Neither your father nor I will ever consent 
 to your going about the world with a strange woman." 
 
 There was no further time for discussion. Gertrude 
 began to put on her gloves and said she would return be- 
 fore dark, trying to get the same train in which she came 
 home yesterday. Mrs. Maurice went into a hysteric, and 
 Agnes came to console her. 
 
 Gertie hurried onward. Just before she reached the 
 station she encountered Mr. Rowdon. 
 
 There was a brief explanation. " If I should suit, I 
 shall accept this position," announced Miss Maurice, de- 
 cisively. 
 
 The man stared a little. The train was not in and he 
 stepped up on the platform with her. 
 
 "Let us walk down here," he began. "Gertrude,
 
 WHAT THE MORNING BROUGHT. 21 
 
 you know I asked you to marry me early in the summer. 
 I'm not one to back out. No one can bring it up against 
 me that I don't keep my word. You were not sure 
 
 then " 
 
 "O yes," she interrupted. "You know I told 
 
 yOU " 
 
 "But you might have changed your mind. There's 
 an old song that used to be sung when I was a young 
 fellow, ' Absence makes the heart grow fonder. . . .' 
 I wouldn't have thought of saying a word to any one else, 
 until you were here to take me, or leave me alone 
 
 "I should not make the kind of wife you need," she 
 replied with a kindliness that swept over her like a wave 
 of respect for him, that she had never experienced be- 
 fore. He certainly had a nice sense of honor if it was ex- 
 pressed in a brief business-like manner. 
 
 "You can marry some woman who will study your 
 happiness, who will make the kind of home you like. I 
 should be restless and discontented and want a hundred 
 things you care nothing about. So you are very wise to 
 think no more of the matter. I am glad we had this 
 talk so soon, and now we will consider the subject 
 settled." 
 
 " Settled. Yes. You see I was a bit hasty. You 
 were the oldest, and your father will be relieved to have 
 some of you settled in life. He's had a rather hard tug 
 while the rest of us have made the money. And I've 
 liked you girls " 
 
 The train shrieked in the distance. 
 
 " We shall always be very friendly, I am sure. And I 
 do hope you will be happy." 
 
 " You have no hard feelings about it?" 
 
 " O no, no ; " with a decisive smile.
 
 22 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 He put her on the train rather awkwardly — he never 
 had been a ladies' man. But there was a touch of 
 honesty and earnestness about him and a desire to do his 
 best, to meet the standard of others rather than compel 
 them to the usages of his hitherto narrow and indifferent 
 life. 
 
 Gertrude Maurice dropped into her seat and laughed 
 in a half-hysterical fashion, that was hardly amusement. 
 She had been politely, kindly given up, when she had 
 been anticipating a scene from the very obtuseness of the 
 man's nature. Did he know he loved Agnes? 
 
 Would Agnes marry him ? She was younger — oh 
 how many years there would be between them ! Yet 
 Agnes was not young. When it came to that, she 
 really was more experienced, better balanced, a better 
 housekeeper and manager than mamma. For three years 
 she really had been the head of the working household. 
 Ah, how could any young girl give up all her youthful 
 life. People were very different. But what an odd 
 ending to her first marriage proposal ! 
 
 Then she speculated upon what Mrs. Townsend could 
 be like. There were stories about the trials of compan- 
 ions whose positions were little better than that of a maid, 
 and before she reached her journey's end her courage 
 and hopes had fallen considerably. She took the car her 
 letter had mentioned and stopped at the corner. The 
 hotel was a few doors up; a rather plain, unostentatious 
 place. She was shown to the reception-room, and sent 
 her card to Mrs. Townsend. And a moment or two 
 later a tall, fine-looking woman, with snowy-white, wavy 
 hair, and peachy pink cheeks, who carried herself with a 
 grand air that was far removed from haughtiness, crossed 
 the room and held out her hand cordially.
 
 WHAT THE MORNING BROUGHT. 23 
 
 "Miss Maurice, I am glad to see you so prompt. 
 Business will do one thing for women, and that will be 
 to make them consider the value of time, and the neces- 
 sity of meeting an engagement at the appointed hour. 
 Come up to my room. We will have a little lunch there 
 and talk over the prospect." 
 
 The voice had an inspiriting sound. The ample figure, 
 finely proportioned, the smiling, spirited face, and the in- 
 describable something that was good breeding, familiar- 
 ity with society, and the fine art of pleasing combined, 
 made Mrs. Townsend a charming person. Gertrude felt 
 fascinated and was a little frightened as well. 
 
 "You graduated at Kingsley Hall," she began. "As 
 it is not a college, I suppose you do not know every- 
 thing?" 
 
 " O no. Indeed the answer to some applications I re- 
 ceived from schools, convinced me that I knew very 
 little, even if I was on the honor roll." 
 
 "I do not want a secretary who knows more than I 
 do myself;" and the lady gave a piquant smile. " I had 
 one who was quite wise, and corrected me and my letters, 
 and my talks. I do not always lecture. I did not enjoy 
 it. In my time girls rarely went to college. But the 
 first and most important question is — have you a lover? " 
 
 " No, I have not," returned Gertrude, though she felt 
 her color rise. 
 
 " My last year's secretary had a lover. She was thirty- 
 three or four, and I thought entirely safe. But the letters 
 they wrote to each other were perfectly appalling. He 
 was some four or five years younger, not that I object to 
 that, but they seemed to have all the enthusiasm of six- 
 teen. So I decided I would not have an engaged young 
 woman, nor a very pretty one."
 
 24 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "I certainly can fill the requirements on both of those 
 points," said Gertrude, with frank amusement. 
 
 "You were very well recommended. In fact I had 
 quite a curiosity to see what you were like." 
 
 " It was very kind of Mrs. St. John. I am the eldest 
 of five girls, and my father has only a moderate salary. 
 So I am anxious to do whatever I can." 
 
 "Mrs. St. John. O yes," Mrs. Townsend nodded as 
 if with some afterthought. " She considered that you 
 would make a very good secretary. I wanted some one 
 who wrote a plain hand, and who had not much personal 
 vanity. I was extremely gratified on the latter point." 
 
 " I have not much to be vain about. I am just ordi- 
 nary. Perhaps it is the lack of charms, rather than vir- 
 tue." 
 
 The luncheon came in. It was quite a feast with this 
 delightful hostess. Then Mrs. Townsend explained her 
 duties more at length. 
 
 " I have so many letters and they are all so much alike 
 that one soon gets used to answering them. They are 
 on subjects that I can't be bothered with, and yet need a 
 reply. Then there are all sorts of begging letters from 
 the poor woman who beseeches you to save her little 
 home from foreclosure, to the young woman who wants 
 you to send her abroad for a musical or an art education." 
 
 " Do they ask such things as that of you ? " exclaimed 
 Gertrude, in surprise. 
 
 Mrs. Townsend laughed. "O, you will find no end 
 of queer things. It will be a liberal education in the 
 high art of soliciting, I assure you. A little experience 
 will teach you to discriminate, and you will soon be able 
 to answer them without consulting me. Then there are 
 invitations and business matters. I shall want you to
 
 WHAT THE MORNING BROUGHT. 25 
 
 look over the newspapers and see what other wise and 
 learned women are doing, and sometimes to cut out items 
 and arrange them so that I shall merely have to glance 
 over them. Then I like to have some one read aloud, 
 sometimes read me to sleep. O it will be no sinecure, I 
 assure you." 
 
 "I shall be quite willing to work. It sounds very in- 
 teresting," and Gertrude's face was alight with earnest- 
 ness. 
 
 "I suppose it will interest at first, but you see you will 
 be expected to work with the same fervor when you are 
 bored, even. And there are callers to entertain. Then 
 — I shall expect a good deal of discretion and reticence 
 on your part. You must learn to talk without saying 
 anything in particular. Indeed, what attracted me in 
 the list of your virtues was that your reticence was espe- 
 cially mentioned." 
 
 "Mrs. St. John was very kind. I don't mind saying 
 that I was rather awkwardly placed at school and I 
 learned to keep my own counsel. I was a poor girl 
 among those in good circumstances," and Gertrude 
 flushed. " My father had expected to be heir to a con- 
 siderable fortune and missed it, so we girls must make 
 our own way in the world." 
 
 Mrs. Townsend nodded in a kind of approving fashion. 
 For all her apparent ease she was studying her guest 
 closely. 
 
 ' ' I suppose you have not seen much of the world 
 then?" 
 
 " I had a lovely time this summer with some girls who 
 were at school. They invited me to share their summer- 
 ing off the coast of Maine. It was delightful beyond 
 description — with their mothers and fathers who were
 
 26 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 charming and cultivated people. Do you know of a Mrs. 
 Drayton, who has done a good deal of literary work? " 
 
 " O yes, I have met her. She was at one time cpiite a 
 star but of late years she has settled into domesticity. I 
 like Mr. Drayton. And the philanthropic Carews?" 
 
 "They were there, at least Mrs. Carew and the chil- 
 dren, and the doctor just at the last. And Mr. and Mrs. 
 Amory." 
 
 " The artist and his handsome wife ! Why, Miss 
 Maurice, you have been in quite swell society. We shall 
 have some people to discuss when other subjects are worn 
 threadbare. And now since we seem to have finished 
 our lunch, come and write some letters for me." 
 
 The letters were satisfactory. Gertrude Maurice was 
 not effusive, and answered some imaginary epistles quite 
 to the point. She proved to be a very good reader. 
 There was a certain frankness and utter absence of strain- 
 ing after effect that pleased Mrs. Townsend. 
 
 "Now," said she, "I am going up to New York this 
 evening. I think you will suit me very well, but as you 
 are not of age I will draw up a little agreement that I 
 should like your father to sign. I am due in Chicago 
 the last of the month, then St. Louis, Denver, and so on 
 to California where I shall probably remain three months. 
 I shall not return to New York under a year in all prob- 
 ability, and in that time I do not want to make any 
 change, and you must not have any lovers. I can refer 
 your father to some Washington people, or since you 
 know the Draytons it may be satisfactory?" 
 
 " O yes, that would be satisfactory," Gertrude an- 
 swered, absently. She was overwhelmed with the pros- 
 pect. And when the salary was mentioned she seemed 
 quite a rich woman in her own eyes. That they all
 
 WHAT THE MORNING BROUGHT 27 
 
 would consent was beyond any doubt, though her mother 
 would be full of objections, but she smiled inwardly over 
 their flimsiness. 
 
 There was not much more time, for Gertrude had to 
 take her train. They parted mutually pleased. The 
 young girl had interested the older woman deeply. She 
 had a little curiosity about another person to serve, as 
 well. 
 
 It seemed to Miss Maurice as if she must pinch herself 
 now and then to make sure of her identity. Was she 
 the same girl returning to the sleepy town yesterday, 
 thrusting pleasure and exquisite memories and friendship 
 into one deep, dismal grave ! Was she to go to fairy 
 lands that she had never even dreamed of, to have a life 
 interesting beyond measure, and the companionship of 
 such a woman as Mrs. Townsend ! 
 Lu came down to the train. 
 
 " O," she cried, " you look as if you had found a bag 
 of gold that had been buried a hundred years and out- 
 lawed. It wasn't a fraud, then? Mother was sure the 
 wicked world would swallow you up and we should never 
 see you again. The consolation was that she had pre- 
 dicted it." 
 
 "It was no fraud but a regular business transaction. 
 Of course, Lu, we are so out of the real world these 
 things seem a little strange to us, but they really are 
 everyday occurrences in the larger cities. I must have 
 gone away if I had found a position to teach ; I would a 
 hundred times rather have this. I like Mrs. Townsend. 
 She is a truly splendid woman." 
 " Where are you going? " 
 
 " All over the world — well, the American world, first," 
 laughing gaily. " And oh, suppose I should go abroad
 
 28 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 sometimes? I have never truly understood the wisdom 
 of Aunt Sampson sending me away to school, but if I 
 had not gone, this couldn't have happened — indeed I 
 should not have been fitted for the position." 
 
 " O goodness ! " ejaculated Lu, her rather limited vo- 
 cabulary at fault for a proper word. "Well, you do 
 have the luck ! When will you have to go? " 
 
 "Next week. Mrs. Townsend is going to Chicago 
 first," was the prompt answer. 
 
 "Well, I suppose mother will have to give in this time, 
 but she has been taking on dreadfully. Gertie," glanc- 
 ing sidewise at her, "could you marry Mr. Rowdon ? " 
 
 " No, I couldn't. And he knows it now. I told him 
 this morning. He is very well satisfied." 
 
 " He's half in love with Agnes. But he's such an old 
 fellow ! I suppose it doesn't matter when you really care 
 about any one. But I'd like to have lots of fun — like the 
 girls you read about in stories. And you'll have a 
 splendid time." 
 
 " There will be a good deal of work to do. Letters to 
 answer, accounts to keep, people to see " 
 
 " The people are what I'd like." 
 
 "And no doubt many of them will be persistent and 
 disagreeable. Mrs. Carew finds a good many of them. 
 O, Lu, the world isn't all rose color." 
 
 " Well, I wouldn't want it all one color." 
 
 The household was electrified by Gertrude's report of 
 her day's adventure. Mrs. Townsend would have smiled, 
 Mr. Constantine Murray who after all had engineered the 
 under current, would have been amused. He was quite 
 curious and sought his friend at her hotel the next morning. 
 
 "I like Miss Maurice very much," she began. "She 
 has a certain style and dignity, and she isn't pretty,
 
 WHAT THE MORNING BROUGHT. 29 
 
 though she has a curious attractiveness for people who do 
 not consider merely the outside aspect. I have made her 
 promise not to have any lovers for a year. She will be 
 young enough then. She has some bits of youthful cyni- 
 cism, and some sage, shrewd wisdom that would do 
 credit to forty." 
 
 " Your plan is very good if you can keep her to it, and 
 you will be a wonderful woman." 
 
 Mrs. Townsend glanced him over with a touch of 
 amusement. 
 
 "Con Murray," she said, vivaciously, "I am not 
 going to have you flirt with my secretary, nor tie an 
 imaginary string to her finger that a susceptible girl 
 might dream would be transformed into a wedding ring. 
 I obeyed your request to the letter. We traveled all 
 round Melchias island and never once mentioned you. I 
 think you might be a dangerous man to an inexperienced 
 girl. So you are not to waylay me with any innocent 
 business surprise, and by the time she comes back she 
 will know you are not the only man in the world. I am 
 sincerely obliged to you for your good offices, and she is 
 very grateful to Mrs. St. John. So we have all done our 
 duty and have earned a degree of satisfaction." 
 
 He laughed heartily, as he returned — 
 
 " You need not fear my poaching on your manor. 
 And there were three other girl guests last summer." 
 
 For once in her life Mrs. Maurice found a current in 
 her own household too strong for her to stay with a 
 delicately imperative wave of her small hand. They all 
 talked together, and it did make a din. Mr. Maurice was 
 so surprised and gratified that his daughter should have 
 this opportunity, that he proved recreant to the claims of 
 her elderly admirer.
 
 3 o THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Mrs. Maurice leaned back in her chair and sighed. 
 They certainly were an ill-bred lot of girls, and she had 
 always set them a most refined example, she was sure. 
 Yet a touch of elation would stir her heart at the thought 
 of Gertrude seeing so much of the world. And she 
 might meet a desirable parti, she loved to think in her 
 schoolgirl French now and then — at all events Mrs. 
 Townsend must be a rich woman, since she did not de- 
 pend on earning money. She, Mrs. Maurice despised 
 women lecturers and women's rights and all that, but she 
 did respect money and position. 
 
 "I can't approve of it, Gertrude," she said, severely, 
 later in the evening. " A young girl's place is under her 
 mother's wing until she has a home of her own. And 
 you have no need of this flighty step, for the home is 
 already provided. A girl who begins her life by outrag- 
 ing the customs of good society, finds in the end that she 
 has lost the regard of people of distinction. She seldom 
 marries. I have hoped to see every one of my girls set- 
 tled in a home of her own, and if the eldest marries, the 
 others are sure to follow. You may not only spoil your 
 own life, but that of your sisters. Still I know my coun- 
 sel will go for nothing, since your father has ranged him- 
 self on the wrong side." 
 
 She put her handkerchief to her eyes and gave a little 
 sob. 
 
 And Mrs. Carew knew so many fine women who were 
 earning their living. They visited at Mrs. Drayton's 
 lovely house, they held positions of honor and made de- 
 lightful friendships. She was not going to be a mere 
 factory girl or a lady's maid, but to put her education 
 and training to some use. If Aunt Sampson had taken 
 her as a companion her mother would have made no de-
 
 WHAT THE MORNING BROUGHT. 31 
 
 mur. And Mrs. Townsend was worth a dozen Aunt 
 Sampsons. 
 
 But Mr. Maurice signed the agreement for his daugh- 
 ter, and gave her some money for needful attire, which she 
 insisted she should return. Agnes planned with a genius 
 worthy of a higher sphere and assisted with her deft 
 needle. And the days flew by rapidly. Even Mr. Row- 
 don was interested in the young traveler in a most un- 
 lover-like fashion, so friendly indeed that Gertrude admit- 
 ted that he had improved very much under new auspices. 
 
 Mrs. Townsend' s note came, enclosing her first month's 
 salary, and appointing the day and train when she would 
 take her up at Wilmington. 
 
 So she started away with the light heart of youth 
 and many consolations. It was not quite as if she had 
 never gone from home before. Then they were not a 
 sentimental family; though their mother indulged in 
 varied emotions. 
 
 She had wondered a little about the abrupt termination 
 of the summer friendship. She had made her grateful 
 acknowledgments to everybody at parting, and there was 
 no real need of reiterating it. Princess Beaumanoir 
 would come to realize that she, Gertrude, had no designs 
 on Mr. Murray, who would drop out of her life. The 
 girls were all back at school again, and for a moment or 
 two she envied them with the happy homes and delight- 
 ful relatives, the affection on every side. It did seem a 
 pity to have the bright and winsome friendship of two 
 years and a golden summer end with a dissatisfaction. 
 
 People always laughed at schoolgirl friendships later 
 on in life. Perhaps it was just as well that this should 
 end when their way in the future lay so far apart.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A LUNCHEON PARTY. 
 
 44 T THOUGHT I would come," exclaimed a bright, 
 -*- merry voice. "If you don't want me I can 
 lunch with the old people." 
 
 Nora Mallory glanced laughingly at the four girls 
 crowded on the window-seat. 
 
 " O, we do want you," declared Violet Osborne, spring- 
 ing up and seizing both hands. " Old people indeed ! 
 You had better not say that to Aunt Millicent." 
 
 " Who is a grandmother ! " 
 
 "You shouldn't have been so old yourself, Cousin 
 Nora," said Pearl Amory, mischievously. "For after all 
 you are our compeer. You should have been just out of 
 school. And here you have a husband and two babies, 
 and you are a real girl after all." 
 
 "Have I the secret of perennial youth? But as 
 mamma was the oldest of the cousins, so I was the oldest 
 of the second generation of cousins. Come and scold 
 Mr. Mallory. Why I shouldn't have thought of marry- 
 ing if he had not put the fascinating notion into my head, 
 and had father Mallory to aid and abet him. Well, must 
 I cross to the other side of the hall ? I hear some dis- 
 creet women in solemn conclave." 
 
 " No, you must not. Come and talk to us. We are 
 going to have a grand time together. Ruth will be here. 
 I am sorry Kitty Saxton decided not to come — at the 
 
 32
 
 A LUNCHEON PARTY. 33 
 
 very last moment. O, do you remember Gertrude 
 Maurice?" 
 
 "Indeed I do. She was the spice at Robin's Point, 
 and we had every variety of sugar, didn't we, and every- 
 thing nice ! " 
 
 "The luncheon, if you please, is given in honor of Miss 
 Maurice, who is quite a traveled young lady. And just 
 think that she and Bertie absolutely ran races and played 
 tag last summer ! I am so curious to see her again. You 
 know she dropped out suddenly. Perhaps she thought 
 we didn't care about any one so far grown up while we 
 were still in our green and salad days — schoolgirls. But 
 the only distinction we are to make between ourselves 
 and the elders is that we have one end of the table. We 
 will put you on the between line." 
 
 "Thank you. I remember having a girls' luncheon 
 here when my school days were ended. Papa was de- 
 lightful." 
 
 "We were so disappointed that he had to go away," 
 exclaimed Violet. "And then we resolved there should 
 not be any masculines. There were only two and one 
 was uncertain. But Uncle Con begged — didn't he, 
 Princess ? and we ruled him out by a strong-minded vote. 
 It was real fun. He even offered to take us to the the- 
 atre, which he declared was buying a ticket to the feast." 
 
 " You were hard-hearted." 
 
 " It was not that we loved Cgesar less — O ! " And the 
 girls started with eager looks toward the hall, as the bell 
 was pulled imperatively. 
 
 It was simply a messenger with a note for Mrs. Dray- 
 ton, who read it and passed it over to Mrs. Osborne. 
 
 "O, can't they come — when the feast is set?" asked 
 Violet, in mock despair.
 
 34 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 The answer was another ring and the guests themselves ; 
 Mrs. Townsend, dignified and attractive at the first 
 glance, and a tall, stylish young lady they could hardly 
 recognize until she smiled, and then they crowded about 
 her. 
 
 "It is delightful to see you all again," Miss Maurice 
 said, " and to have you remember me so cordially. Was 
 it only last summer we had such a grand time? And 
 now you have all graduated and can make your demand 
 on the world. I hope it will treat you as well as it has 
 treated me, for if you remember, I was not expecting 
 much of it, and you all are entitled to a good deal." 
 
 They were all going up the wide stairway, while Mrs. 
 Townsend stopped in the reception-room and sent her 
 hat and gloves away by the maid. Quite a bodyguard, 
 and the smiles went to the newcomer's heart. 
 
 " You do look like Gertie Maurice with your hat off," 
 began Pearl. "But you are not so thin, and you have 
 so much dignity, I am half afraid of you." 
 
 " I've had to be dignified," and she laughed. " And 
 how odd that you should all be in the city, or that we 
 should have come just at this time. I have had a splen- 
 did year ! Ray has changed more than any of you. Ray 
 has grown prettier and taller. And, Ruth, have they 
 taken you into the charmed circle? " 
 
 " The loveliest of all things has happened to me," said 
 Ruth, with an eager light in her eyes. 
 
 "And to have some unexpectedly nice thing happen 
 to you is as good as a fortune ! I used to wish for a for- 
 tune, you know, but now I am well content. But I do 
 believe I owe some one an apology — it must be Princess. 
 I went off in a rather ungrateful manner, although at 
 parting I tried to tell you how much I was indebted to
 
 A LUNCHEON PARTY. 35 
 
 you all for a rare and delightful summer. And, girls, I 
 want to say that I learned many things in an unconscious 
 way then that have been of great benefit to me. I was 
 so taken by surprise at Mrs. Townsend's offer; then there 
 were so many things to do, and going out into a new 
 world and being very much engrossed with my duties, I 
 let the time slip by ; and then I thought you might cease 
 to be interested in me. But now, with this heartfelt 
 welcome, I seem convicted of neglect. There, you will 
 think I have learned to make speeches." 
 
 Princess glanced up and their eyes met. If there had 
 been any little feeling, it was all over, the cordial look 
 said. 
 
 They put Miss Maurice at the end of the table and the 
 girls on each side. Mrs. Kenneth had the other end, 
 and the hostess, Mrs. Drayton, and Mrs. Osborne, were 
 in the middle, opposite each other. The other ladies, 
 Mrs. Beaumanoir and Mrs. Amory, had gone home, but 
 Princess and the girls were to remain until some cousins 
 returned from abroad, who were expected about a week 
 later. All these incidents had paved the way for a meet- 
 ing of the school friends. 
 
 The ladies talked of the happenings in the greater 
 world ; the girls still had the atmosphere of school about 
 them, but it was a gay and changeful atmosphere. 
 Gertie asked what had happened the last year, and if 
 there were some brilliant girls left to do honor to Mrs. St. 
 John another summer ? 
 
 "lam afraid we never considered that point," rejoined 
 Violet. " Was it very selfish of us? " 
 
 " I suppose you couldn't leave your geniuses behind if 
 you had wanted to." 
 
 "I am under the impression that no one really wanted
 
 36 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 to. But as they are a part of yourself, and not any school 
 quality, you have the best right to them." 
 
 "After all," said Ruth Ensign, gently, "I feel sorry 
 for Mrs. St. John. I never thought of it before, but she 
 must get wonderfully interested in girls, and love them as 
 well. And then they go out of her life and a new set 
 comes in. The work is all to be done over again. I 
 don't believe I should like to have a girls' school. I 
 want to go right on with people." 
 
 " Yet the variety is entertaining. And Mrs. St. John 
 is very proud of the success of some of her girls. You 
 go out of your own homes by marriage, if not by busi- 
 ness." 
 
 " But your mothers still have a right to you," said Nora 
 Mallory, glancing up at hers. " Like Ruth, I should not 
 want to be the head of a girls' school. I have not enough 
 philanthropy." 
 
 " That is where we mean to broaden out the next gen- 
 eration," said Mrs. Townsend. "The greatest good to 
 the greatest number." 
 
 "O Mrs. Townsend, can't we get married if some 
 nice young man asks us?" inquired Pearl, with such a 
 wistful expression and beseeching tone that everybody 
 laughed. 
 
 ' ' I suppose you will marry whether or no. A happy 
 marriage, a sensible marriage is the best thing for any 
 woman. But I am very glad that we have passed the 
 era when marriage was a test of respectability, and that 
 a single life can be made admirable and honorable." 
 
 " It's funny to think there is a man somewhere in the 
 world coming to marry you," said Violet, in a low tone 
 to Ray, who sat beside her. " I wonder who of us will 
 be married first ? ' '
 
 A LUNCHEON PA J? TV. 37 
 
 "Pearl," was the whispered answer. For it seemed 
 to Ray that no one could resist Pearl's beauty. 
 
 "That is not my guess," returned Violet, with a glance 
 wandering down toward Ruth. For it seemed the most 
 natural conclusion that Mrs. Kenneth's half adoption 
 should prefigure relationship. 
 
 Miss Maurice was telling some laughable experiences 
 that quenched the flickering light of coming husbands. 
 Mrs. Townsend was really proud of her protegee, who 
 saw the amusing side of life without being satiric. There 
 was an indescribable charm about her the girls felt, and 
 they were really glad she had come back to them almost 
 in a schoolgirl fashion. 
 
 They were lingering over the fruit when there was a 
 confusion of voices in the hall, masculine voices, and 
 Mrs. Drayton excused herself. 
 
 " O Aunt Millicent ! " exclaimed a chorus. 
 
 Princess sprang up, and the next instant a tall young 
 fellow had her in his arms. Was it really her brother 
 Sherburne, whom they had not seen for two years ! 
 
 " Yes, we have had a little luncheon, but we could not 
 wait for style, and fellows after a sea voyage are always 
 ravenous. Can't we come out " 
 
 That was Leonard Beaumanoir's voice. Whether any 
 one said they could or could not, they all marched out ; 
 Sherburne Beaumanoir, with his arm around Princess, 
 and the two Baltimore cousins, Ned and Len Beaumanoir. 
 Such a greeting, and such a mingling of voices that it 
 was almost a whirlwind of sound with the exclamations 
 of surprise and the short, gay laughs. 
 
 " We were not going to look for you until next week," 
 began Mrs. Drayton. 
 
 " We found by taking another line that we could come
 
 38 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 three days sooner. And we supposed everybody would 
 be up here or at Aunt Lyndell's. When a chap hasn't 
 seen his own folks for two years " 
 
 "Hear the ingratitude," exclaimed Leonard. "Ned 
 went out a year ago, and I last winter." 
 
 "O fellows don't count beside mothers and sisters," 
 began Sherburne. 
 
 "And cousins and aunts " 
 
 " Let me take you around and introduce you to every- 
 body," said Mrs. Drayton. "Then we will have some 
 fresh fruit and some more plates. There is a cordial and 
 inspiriting charm in sitting around a table." 
 
 " I wonder if I shall spoil it if I take leave. I really 
 have an engagement." 
 
 Mrs. Townsend glanced up at the clock. Mrs. Dray- 
 ton begged her to remain. 
 
 " I am truly sorry, for I should like a talk with these 
 young travelers. I have tried not to have any engage- 
 ments to interfere with the vacation both Miss Maurice 
 and I have earned by our steady application to business, 
 but this came unexpectedly after I had accepted your 
 invitation, and is important. No, Gertrude," with a 
 graceful wave of her hand, "I am going to leave you 
 with these young people, and I hope you will prove so 
 attractive to them that you may induce them to come in 
 a party to the St. James the very first evening they can 
 be spared. I don't see why you mothers may not be 
 generous and divide your pleasures with us lone women." 
 
 The young men looked at her as she stood in all the 
 vigor of handsome middle life, and then at the young 
 girl who had risen and bowing smilingly, sat down again. 
 
 Sherburne, with his arms still around his sister, half 
 impelled her toward Gertrude.
 
 A LUNCHEON PARTY. 39 
 
 "Miss Maurice," he began, "I feel as if we had 
 known each other ages. It began in the fossiliferous 
 period of the coast of Maine. There was a learned pro- 
 fessor and a young lad, and the latter wrote such glowing 
 letters, in which everything was considerably mixed, but 
 thanks to evolution we come out right at last, and are 
 transformed into human beings in that most charming 
 period of life, youth. May we shake hands and be 
 friends, though if Bertram were here no doubt I should 
 be relegated at once to the rear." 
 
 Gertrud« smiled and held out her hand. 
 
 " You will have to look to your laurels, Ned," said his 
 brother Leonard, teasingly. "Just think of Sher dis- 
 coursing learnedly on fossils, and Miss Maurice, I should 
 object to being placed back in the ages." 
 
 "Ages are periods shorter or longer. And if you had 
 counted the days, and been disappointed last summer 
 when your respected father decisively refused to let you 
 take a homeward trip and join the merry crew who dis- 
 ported themselves on an enchanted island, it might seem 
 the longer period to you." 
 
 The butler had been rearranging the chairs. Sher- 
 burne dropped into the one next Miss Maurice. Violet 
 moved and gave her seat to Princess and went to the 
 other side of the table with Leonard Beaumanoir, intro- 
 ducing him to Ruth. Pearl beckoned Cousin Ned to 
 her side and placed him next Mrs. Mallory. 
 
 "O Cousin Nora," he exclaimed, "do you remember 
 when we used to dispute as to who had the best right to 
 Grandpapa Beaumanoir ? And I can recall your lovely 
 wedding, and how pretty the little maids of honor looked 
 scattering their flowers in your path. Somehow, I think 
 we two boys have not had quite our share of the cousins.
 
 4 o THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Now that I am going to spend the coming year in the 
 city I hope you won't bar me out." 
 
 " But we are not all going to remain here," said Pearl. 
 " O, I almost wish we were." 
 
 Edward glanced around his end of the table. 
 
 "It is so long since I have seen you all. Of course I 
 know you live in Washington, Pearl " 
 
 "And Ray is going to Washington. Uncle Archie 
 has a position there, and Aunt Julia is to live with them. 
 Aunt Jue is such a sweet old lady, she seems almost as 
 old as grandmamma. Uncle Stanwood's death was a 
 great blow to her, although she bore it so bravely." 
 
 " I am afraid I haven't been very cousinly," said the 
 soft, gentlemanly voice. " I have been so fond of books 
 and study, and there were only two boys of us. And I 
 think — don't laugh at me, Cousin Pearl" — glancing up 
 entreatingly, "but I've always been a little afraid of 
 girls." 
 
 Pearl did laugh with a soft deliciousness that was like 
 music. 
 
 "And you dropped down on a regular girls' party! 
 We are standing on the dividing line — ' Where the brook 
 and river meet.' None of us are full-fledged young 
 ladies. We come in the category of ' sweet girl gradu- 
 ates,' except the one talking so earnestly to Cousin 
 Sherburne. She was in the last year's nest." 
 
 Edward looked sharply down to the end of the table. 
 He was quite near-sighted, but he did not always wear 
 glasses. He was still rather thin, and the little touches 
 of precision set so well upon him that they were no detri- 
 ment. He was not as handsome as Sherburne, though 
 he had a rather fine scholarly face, somewhat too grave 
 for a young fellow.
 
 A LUNCHEON PARTY. 41 
 
 "And where in the list of cousins does she come 
 in?" 
 
 "She isn't in the list at all; but I think she 'would 
 be missed,' " laughingly quoting the Mikado. " She and 
 the girl next to Violet, Ruth Ensign, were our school- 
 mates last year. And Princess, who is always thinking up 
 lovely things — or else it was Uncle Con — O, you must 
 know Uncle Con Murray. He is the most splendid 
 bachelor uncle you can imagine, and is so fond of girls. 
 Like Wordsworth, ' In his capacious heart he loves them 
 all.' And Princess invited some girls to summer with us. 
 Miss Maurice had graduated, Ruth and another girl 
 were in our class. And as there was no enchanted island 
 for this summer, Aunt Millicent took pity on us and gave 
 us a luncheon. Miss Ensign is going to live in New 
 York. Mrs. Kenneth has in a fashion adopted her. 
 That is Mrs. Kenneth at the end of the table." 
 
 " What a lovely face she has." 
 
 "And she is just as lovely within as without. She is 
 truly a King's daughter. We had a delightful week 
 with her in Boston last summer before we went to the 
 island." 
 
 "I do think a lot of girls have wonderfully good 
 times," said Edward. "And you never knew a more 
 disappointed fellow than Sherburne because he could not 
 come home for vacation. Uncle Len seems so easy-go- 
 ing, as if you could coax anything out of him, but you 
 can't." 
 
 " He is a judge," said Pearl, with mock dignity. 
 
 "And Bertram wrote Sher such tantalizing letters. 
 Why the boy would make a good newspaper corre- 
 spondent. And I found Sher quite in the dumps. He 
 gave me the letters to read, and that is how I came to
 
 42 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 know you all better than ever before. But Bert's bright 
 particular seemed to be Miss Maurice. Has some one 
 adopted her ? ' ' 
 
 "Why yes, in a way. She is Mrs. Townsend's secre- 
 tary, and has been as far as California with her. Mrs. 
 Townsend is a kind of educational woman, believes in 
 kindergartens and colleges and the improvement of the 
 feminine race generally, and is charming. O, you 
 needn't look so doubtful. Some time we are all going to 
 vote." 
 
 " Do you really want to? " An expression of distaste 
 passed over his face. 
 
 Pearl laughed gaily. What a musical sound it was, 
 and oh, what a dazzle of loveliness swept over every 
 feature. 
 
 "Well — how many more are going to Washington? 
 I think I am booked for a position in New York, and 
 if I am left all alone ' ' 
 
 " Poor boy," patronizingly. " There will be Uncle and 
 Aunt Carew, but their flock are not grown up. And 
 here will be Aunt Millicent, and Uncle Drayton is 
 splendid, and Cousin Nora and Mr. Mallory, and Mrs. 
 Kenneth and the professor " 
 
 " Bertram's second love. A dangerous rival for Miss 
 Maurice in the young man's affections," said Cousin 
 Ned with a smile. 
 
 " He is so nice," declared Pearl. " I am coming to the 
 end of my adjectives, there are so many people. And 
 Miss Ensign who is sweet — is that admissible? and 
 whether there is one left to apply to Miss Maurice — well, 
 piquant will do. There, haven't I described every- 
 body?" 
 
 " I am obliged to you."
 
 A LUNCHEON PARTY. 43 
 
 They were certainly having a gay time at Miss 
 Maurice's end of the table. Sherburne had been peeling 
 oranges in a most elaborate fashion for Miss Maurice and 
 Princess, and cracking nuts, the filberts being of the hard 
 shell variety. Sherburne declared they must have sum- 
 mered and wintered a good many times. 
 
 "But they are very sweet," replied Gertrude. 
 Sherburne detailed his last summer's disappointment 
 graphically, and how his feelings were harrowed up by 
 Bertram's description of everybody and the fun. " And 
 I thought you must be quite a little girl," turning to 
 Gertie. 
 
 A quick color flashed up in her face. "I was," she 
 answered with a gay smile, "I climbed rocks, I built 
 bridges with heaps of stones, I think I even made sand 
 pies, I ran races and played tag. It was the last expir- 
 ing gleam of girlhood. Since then I have been staid, 
 discreet, business-y. But you see it was a girl's summer. 
 There were no young men. The mothers tabooed them 
 utterly." 
 
 " Didn't they surprise you as we have to-day? " 
 "There was one who crept into the Eden — do you re- 
 member, Princess? Ward Garrison, Miss Hildreth's 
 cousin." 
 
 "And did you all fight over him? O, what was one 
 young man among so many girls ? " 
 
 " No, we didn't fight. We didn't even pull straws. 
 We went off and spent a few days at the Naumekeag 
 clubhouse where there were plenty of men and few 
 women, and danced and had a good time. We went on 
 a yachting excursion around Mount Desert. You 
 wouldn't believe the coves and bays and headlands could 
 be stretched out to afford so much entertainment. It
 
 44 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 was a golden summer and Princess planned it all. I can 
 never forget it." 
 
 " You must make out a list of the choice places and I 
 will go up and weep over them." 
 
 " Why should you weep ? " 
 
 " Because I was not there. Because so much sweet- 
 ness and delight and enjoyment has fallen out of my life. 
 It can never be made up to me." 
 
 " That sounds like Uncle Con," said Princess. "And 
 isn't it funny that we wouldn't let him come to-day, be- 
 cause it was a girls' party " 
 
 "And we stormed the Eden. Dear Uncle Con, I 
 want to see him, and such hosts of people ! I'd like to 
 be divided and subdivided for several hours or have an 
 astral body — five or six of them, and the real body should 
 stay here. You cruel Princess ! Were you afraid Uncle 
 Con had not wit and wisdom enough to go round, or that 
 so many girls would quench him utterly? You know 
 Miss Maurice, Princess has a mortgage on Uncle Con. 
 If he should ever fall in love he would have to come to 
 her in the most abject humility and say meekly — 
 ' Please' m may I ask this girl to marry me ? ' " 
 
 Princess was scarlet. Her eyes met those of Gertrude 
 and some subtle message flashed from both, and then both 
 laughed to break the spell. 
 
 Aunt Millicent had risen and gave her arm to Mrs. 
 Kenneth. The procession stood in the hall, dispersing 
 to library and drawing-room, when another visitor was 
 ushered in. Mr. Constantine Murray came face to face 
 with Sherburne Beaumanoir, who had Princess on one 
 side and Gertrude on the other. 
 
 " Upon my word ! ' Women were deceivers ever,' 
 Shakespeare slightly amended. What magic brought
 
 A LUNCHEON PARTY. 45 
 
 these young men across the seas, when you all insisted 
 this was to be a girls' party, and that I, no longer young 
 and dangerous to budding femininity, was not even al- 
 lowed entrance. And a crowd of young men ! " 
 
 He was shaking hands heartily with the travelers, and 
 Aunt Milly was explaining, but he insisted that it was a 
 a deep laid scheme to defraud him and quoted — " 'Twas 
 ever thus from childhood's hour." But in a moment he 
 really seemed to be the hero of the occasion. 
 
 "And I have come with a magnificent barouche and 
 pair to tempt some of you to a Central Park drive. I 
 thought by this time you must begin to weary of unal- 
 loyed sweetness." 
 
 " O yes," began Aunt Milly, " I will order up our big 
 carriage, and we might send around to the livery for 
 another, and end with an out-of-doors party. There is a 
 little cloudiness that will temper the heat, and a grateful 
 breeze from the south. We will have a really festive day. ' ' 
 
 The girls were enthusiastic. Mrs. Kenneth said Ruth 
 should join them. 
 
 Gertie came over to Mrs. Drayton. 
 
 "I am sorry to ask you to excuse me," she began in 
 an entreating tone. "I have some important letters to 
 answer, and there was to be a caller at five. I am not 
 sure Mrs. Townsend will be in, and she has already in- 
 structed me what to do in the case. I must thank you 
 for this delightful reunion with the girls. I feel very 
 much honored that you should all remember me so cor- 
 dially. I have spent many happy hours recalling the 
 joys of last summer, and one of the reasons that drew 
 me to Mrs. Townsend was the fact that she had met you 
 all. We often talked about you. I am sorry to give up 
 the added pleasure, but I feel that I ought. I learned
 
 46 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 some useful lessons last summer, for which I wish to 
 thank all you mothers. And I hope nothing will ever 
 happen to impair the friendship with any of you." 
 
 Millicent could read the depth of feeling in her tone. 
 
 " I am so sorry," she answered ; " but we shall count 
 on you on some other occasion. Mrs. Townsend intends 
 to remain in the city for some time. Just now we shall 
 crowd in all that is possible, for no doubt Princess will 
 return with her brother. I am glad you have enjoyed 
 yourself. ' ' 
 
 There was a general protest against Gertrude's defec- 
 tion, though Mr. Murray was silent. 
 
 "I wonder if I can't meet you somewhere?" asked 
 Sherburne. " For I must see Aunt Lyndell if it is not 
 for more than ten minutes. I assured her a month ago 
 that my very first call would be upon her, and here I 
 have been pleasuring " 
 
 They all felt there was an especial duty in this, al- 
 though it could have been put off until evening. But he 
 insisted he would not stay long, and would surely rejoin 
 them at the park at any convenient point. 
 
 " And I hope you will bear Mrs. Townsend's invitation 
 in mind before the general dispersion," exclaimed Ger- 
 trude. " I will beg her to set her time to-morrow, and 
 if it does not suit we will rearrange it." 
 
 They all acquiesced enthusiastically. 
 
 Miss Maurice uttered her good-bye with a touch of 
 regret. Then they discussed where Sherburne should 
 meet them an hour hence, and he nodded a jaunty adieu. 
 
 Gertrude Maurice was walking slowly along. She 
 might have given an hour perhaps, but it would have 
 been harder to leave in the midst of the enjoyable drive. 
 No, this was best. How queer it seemed to take up the
 
 A LUNCHEON PARTY. 47 
 
 old life just as if there had been no break. And Mr. 
 Murray — 
 
 She had come to know that he and Mrs. Townsend 
 were friends. But then that lady knew so many news- 
 paper men, and literary and philanthropic people of all 
 sorts. 
 
 There was a hurried step behind her. Something im- 
 pelled her to turn, and she smiled before she realized that 
 she should have looked dignified, and then it was too 
 late. 
 
 " I thought I should catch up with you if you did have 
 the start. But no invidious comparisons are meant. So 
 if you don't object to a companion " 
 
 They had reached the corner, where she halted. 
 
 "You go in that direction to Doctor Carew's," she 
 announced, with a little nod. 
 
 "I am going to accompany you to the St. James first, 
 wherever that may be. I have almost forgotten New York. 
 So I depend on your tender mercies to pilot me. Then 
 I shall find my way back to Doctor Carew's, and take 
 some car afterward that will bear me swiftly to Central 
 Park. Have I not given a concise account of my pur- 
 pose ? " 
 
 "But if I said " 
 
 "You will say nothing disagreeable," he interrupted. 
 "We shall walk along as amicably as lambs in a clover 
 field, after they have feasted. It was so odd to meet you 
 the first thing, when I had heard so much about you." 
 
 "A big boy's enthusiasm over some one older than 
 himself, who forgets for the nonce how old she really is. 
 I liked Bertram very much. I wish we had come soon 
 enough to see him again." 
 
 " I suppose it was foolish to care so much about a
 
 48 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE 
 
 boy's letters. But I was awfully disappointed about not 
 coming home. You see father was not so enthusiastic 
 about my going to Germany, so I suppose he thought it 
 would be a good discipline for me to stay until my time 
 was up." 
 
 "And was it? " 
 
 There was a mischievous suggestion in her tone. 
 " I suppose it was. Good things are not always pleas- 
 ant. Yet I don't see why they should not have been 
 made pleasant, for then it would be easier to be good. 
 The friction helps to wear out life." 
 
 " Is that German collegiate reasoning ? " 
 "It is my reasoning, fresh from Germany." 
 Both laughed a little. 
 
 " However, it has helped me to make up my mind. I 
 am afraid I shall disappoint father a little. And he is 
 such a comfortable father, too. Do you know, Miss Mau- 
 rice, that is one of the most fascinating words in the lan- 
 guage?" 
 
 « What— comfortable ? " 
 " Yes. Think of all it expresses." 
 "At peace with all men. Surrounded by numerous 
 satisfactions. Happy in your inmost soul." 
 "Excellent. You could write a dictionary." 
 "And my genius is expended mostly on accounts, and 
 keeping the run of engagements present and to come for 
 Mrs. Townsend. And here we are at the St. James. May 
 I wish you a pleasant call, and a pleasant drive afterward, 
 
 and I may as well go on and say a pleasant life " 
 
 "Do not wish so far. Save something for the next 
 time we meet. Adieu," and he bowed.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IN THE RETROSPECT. 
 
 *T*HE St. James was more of a private hotel than 
 ■*■ apartment house. One could be quite as secluded 
 and home-like as one chose. Mrs. Townsend had gath- 
 ered up some of her choice belongings that had been 
 stored, and the sitting-room looked quite as if some one 
 lived there and was not merely waiting to move on. Miss 
 Maurice thought of young Beaumanoir's word. It was 
 comfortable. What an odd idea for a boyish fellow with 
 very limited experience ! 
 
 She was going over the pile of letters when the caller 
 was announced. A young woman — three or four years 
 older than herself, who was trying to find a place in the 
 world where she could help along its essential advance- 
 ment, and reach the front ranks herself. She had given 
 readings, she had lectured a little, but she was eager for 
 higher work. Mrs. Townsend, with all her experience, 
 might see an opening or suggest some course — 
 
 Gertrude listened attentively, and made a few notes, 
 took the name and address and explained that Mrs. 
 Townsend had but recently returned to the city, and 
 found so much to do, had to meet so many people, and 
 had very little leisure. She would lay the case before 
 her, but there was not much doing in the summer, and 
 if there was any opening for autumn, Mrs. Townsend 
 would do what she could for her. 
 
 Gertrude felt sorry for the tired-looking, unprepossess- 
 
 49
 
 50 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 ing girl. To be a success one did need attractiveness, or 
 a high order of genius that made itself felt at once. She 
 was really thankful she had no wild ambitions for herself, 
 and was satisfied with the work that had come to her. 
 And what a splendid year it had been — not all rose color 
 or heart' s-ease, but she had grown used to the thorny side 
 and the little pricks. 
 
 She had adapted herself to her round of duties with 
 no great friction, for she had a good deal of common 
 sense. How the two older Maurice girls had acquired 
 so much, unless some far back ancestor had dowered 
 them with it, was a mystery. There were so many at- 
 tractive qualities in Mrs. Townsend that Gertrude cheer- 
 fully overlooked the occasional fractiousness, for there 
 were various incidents to try one's temper. Gertrude 
 wondered sometimes why a woman of independent means 
 and fine social qualities could not content herself to take 
 the best out of life, and let the old world go its own gait. 
 Clearly Gertrude Maurice was not a philanthropist. 
 
 There was the delight of wonderful cities, of charming 
 and cultivated people, of insufferably ill-bred people, 
 who thought money was everything, and were compla- 
 cently ignorant ; lectures, concerts, readings, an occa- 
 sional theatre, luncheons, suppers, and sometimes an in- 
 formal dinner. True, a few people snubbed her with a 
 superior air, as if they must make a distinction between 
 the lady and the secretary. But on the whole it had 
 been a grand time, and the woman and the girl had 
 fallen into friendly, as well as excellent business relations. 
 
 There had been one trying week, when Mrs. Town- 
 send was absolutely laid aside with influenza, and had to 
 forego several choice pleasures. The nurse was a rather 
 rigid, consequential person, and even Gertrude was glad
 
 IN THE RETROSPECT. 51 
 
 to have her go and fill the place herself, through the days 
 of convalescence. She gave the room a different aspect, 
 the chairs no longer looked as if placed for funeral guests. 
 The palm stood on the window-ledge, there were bowls 
 of flowers about, the rugs slipped off in piles on the floor 
 and no one snatched them up. There was a graceful 
 touch of disorder, a little reading, a little talk, a choice 
 friend admitted. 
 
 "Gertrude," Mrs. Townsend said one day, "you are 
 a most comfortable person to have about. You are not 
 continually doing useless things and arguing about what 
 is best. I can throw my wrap down and you don't rush 
 across the room to pick it up. I can wrinkle up my pillow 
 and you don't come with a teasing pat that drives me 
 distracted. Yet all the little things get done, one hardly 
 knows how, just at the right time. And when I am cross 
 and flurried you don't get out the thermometer " 
 
 " But I am not a regular nurse," returned Gertrude, 
 smilingly. 
 
 " You are good enough nurse for me, only of course 
 there were other things for you to do, and I could not 
 have taken so much of your time and strength. But you 
 have the art. And you are comfortable. That is better 
 than being wise and trained." 
 
 "Thank you," Gertrude smiled again. 
 
 "I wonder whether you will be married? The bar- 
 gain was that you were to have no lovers this year. It 
 was rather selfish." 
 
 "No; it was just right," returned Gertrude, with a 
 flush. "It was a business bargain, and I wanted the 
 business." 
 
 " Fortunately girls do not marry as young as they did. 
 I remember an old great-uncle of mine who had married
 
 52 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 three wives, always quoting — ' Old age is honorable, but 
 old maids are abominable. ' Well, as I said, he had saved 
 three women from the direful fate. I think now a girl 
 has generally a very good time from twenty on to half 
 a dozen or so years. She gets some sensible ideas if 
 there is any sense to her. So, my advice is to wait until 
 you have a good opportunity, and I want to say" — Mrs. 
 Townsend gave a rather amused laugh, more at her in- 
 ward thought than her words, — " that I withdraw my re- 
 strictions. A good marriage is the best destiny for a 
 woman, and a home and children are, or ought to be, her 
 safeguards, her hostages to the world, much better than 
 a little fame or a reputation soon forgotten. I should 
 like to have had some of my own. So you see I have no 
 objections to a sensible marriage, if I do sometimes berate 
 silly, sentimental girls and women who sigh for careers, 
 but are all unfitted for them. On the other hand — we 
 have gone along very amicably, and you may consider 
 your position permanent for as long as you like. Next 
 winter I shall have my headquarters in New York. And 
 during the summer you may have a vacation or two, as 
 seems best. Is that satisfactory ? I like to have matters 
 settled." 
 
 " I should be unreasonable if it were not," Gertrude 
 replied, frankly. "And I am — yes, gratified with your 
 good opinion of me," a warm flush mounting to her brow. 
 "I shall endeavor to keep it." 
 
 Mrs. Townsend nodded, as if to signify that all had 
 been said on both sides. She was not a woman to keep 
 going over the old ground like Mrs. Maurice. And 
 this had been such a rest to the girl. It was the outcome 
 of broad living. 
 
 She had a quiet evening before her. She did not care
 
 IN THE RETROSPECT. 53 
 
 to read or sew, so she ensconced herself in an easy-chair, 
 and gave way to a peculiar feeling of satisfaction. She 
 was not afraid of the world nor the future, at least for 
 some time to come. The position had many agreeable 
 sides, and when one proved unpleasant she had only to 
 turn the mental kaleidoscope around, and there was a 
 new phase. She had never liked to dwell on irritating 
 or annoying subjects. And this characteristic had led 
 her to put aside the little jar between her and her school 
 friend, Princess Beaumanoir. There was nothing she 
 could explain by letter. If they thought it wiser to drop 
 her, that was all right, too. 
 
 Perhaps, with a young girl's romance, she had hoped 
 fate would bring about some reminder from Mr. Murray. 
 It had not. And as she saw more of the world, she 
 learned that a man's interest did not always presage a 
 warmer feeling, and that a sudden touch of sympathy 
 might be as easily forgotten. She knew he was in New 
 York ; now and then his name was mentioned in some 
 literary connection. Mrs. Townsend spoke of him just as 
 she did of others who had come under her notice ; Ger- 
 trude could have forgotten him in the way we set aside 
 our friends when their connection with us is ended. 
 
 He had come to call on Mrs. Townsend among her 
 earliest visitors. Whether he was surprised to see her in 
 this capacity she could not quite tell. It was a very en- 
 joyable call, though he had not said much to her. Mrs. 
 Drayton and Mrs. Mallory had followed, and then had 
 come the luncheon, at which she was the guest of honor. 
 O, how she had enjoyed it ! And the gay, chatty girls, 
 the agreeable elders, the young men dropping in, the 
 amusing walk with Sherburne Beaumanoir ! How odd 
 that he should have become interested in her through
 
 54 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Bertram's letters. How the old summer came back — 
 was it only a year ago ? 
 
 Perhaps the most gratifying happiness of all was the 
 ready graciousness of Princess that seemed to take back 
 look and word that had rankled at parting and left a 
 little trail. But she was not likely to marry Mr. Murray. 
 Perhaps Princess rested serenely in that assurance. Yes, 
 that was it. What would she think — O, of course Sher- 
 burne's sudden fancy had no more foundation than 
 Bertram's boyish preference of last summer. He was so 
 young. 
 
 She startled herself by laughing aloud, a soft note of 
 merriment. She was only twenty, he would be twenty- 
 one in the autumn. What made her seem so much older 
 than this group of cousins ? Not experience altogether, 
 though poor people did get a great deal more worldly 
 wisdom in their youth, with all the pinches and make- 
 shifts. 
 
 She was still sitting there when Mrs. Townsend came 
 in, who inquired if the close of the luncheon had been 
 satisfactory. 
 
 " What a pity you had to come home for that poor 
 girl, for whom I can do nothing. How few of them 
 realize that it takes a great deal of training and 
 genius to come up to the front rank — and time as well. 
 A little genius is a very perplexing and dangerous thing. 
 I am glad every day you have not struck that trouble- 
 some reef. And yet you could fill the role as well as 
 dozens of other young women." 
 
 "To be with you is a liberal education," quoted Ger- 
 trude. 
 
 " Thank you ; that really is a compliment. And now 
 that you are so near, I suppose you are thinking and
 
 IN THE RETROSPECT. 55 
 
 longing for home. I accepted an invitation for a month, 
 to-night, partly travel, partly visiting with some very dear 
 friends. The journey begins next week. So you can 
 have a month at home if you like, and then I think it will 
 be Chautauqua. You will enjoy that, I know, and I 
 shall need you." 
 
 "Your plans are always pleasures," responded Ger- 
 trude, with brightening eyes. 
 
 " Now we must go to bed for our beauty sleep. You 
 must not grow old, and I cannot afford to." 
 
 She bethought herself the next morning of the invita- 
 tion to the young people, and learned that the Beau- 
 manoirs were to start on Saturday. They asked if Ger- 
 trude might not join in two or three of their pleasures. 
 Indeed every hour was crowded full, and they could 
 hardly get in all the delights that awaited them. 
 
 Professor Kenneth and Mr. Edward Beaumanoir found 
 so many things to talk about that they really talked them- 
 selves into friendship, and planned some pursuits for the 
 ensuing winter, when Ned should be in the city. He 
 was very much attracted to Mrs. Kenneth and Ruth, in- 
 deed, he declared to Princess he had never known how 
 really delightful girls were. 
 
 " I think we have not been very social," he admitted. 
 " You know mother was an invalid for a good many 
 years, and she thought my college vacations ought to be 
 spent with her. Len was always going off with boys. 
 Then there was my year of teaching and last year abroad. 
 I can't tell you how I enjoyed Sherburne. He is such a 
 thorough boy with gleams of manhood shining through. 
 And I think it will be a grand thing for him to study 
 under Doctor Carew's guidance. I feel as if we two 
 boys had missed a good deal in the way of relationship."
 
 56 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "You can have it all now. You can begin over 
 again," said Princess, with interest, her soft eyes shining 
 with earnest friendliness. 
 
 The elder Beaumanoir men had drifted apart as the 
 nearest relatives will at times. Mrs. Edward had de- 
 veloped into a fussy, nervous mother, and then into a 
 fussy, nervous invalid. How Mrs. Judge — she always 
 called Mrs. Leonard that after her husband had his ap- 
 pointment, quite proud, if a trifle resentful, of the family 
 dignity, — how she could go away in the summer with a 
 houseful of children, how she could spend weeks in the 
 winter at Washington and leave the children at home, 
 passed Mrs. Edward's comprehension. Her husband 
 confined himself more and more to business, Leonard the 
 younger son found home and his mother's complaints 
 tiresome, and was full of engagements. And so it hap- 
 pened that scholarly Ned, who was gentle and sympa- 
 thetic, soothed her weary days until she dropped gently 
 out of life. 
 
 Her husband was really shocked. When his brothers 
 and sisters came to the funeral it awoke memories of 
 the old times at Beaumanoir and Sherburne House. 
 Really, the portly judge looked almost as young as he. 
 And there was his father still hale and hearty ; the girls 
 with all their children. He seemed to have been shut 
 out of the vital family interest. A narrow woman had 
 narrowed his life and he had not possessed the force of 
 character to make a stand against it. 
 
 He plunged anew into business. The house was 
 dreary. One son always at his books, the other full of 
 boyish engagements, and nothing to draw them together 
 in sympathetic bonds. Then he had married again with 
 but little notice, a rather pretty, affectionate, middle-
 
 IN THE RETROSPECT. 57 
 
 aged woman, who after a hard struggle with life had been 
 left alone, and was really grateful for the rest and the 
 home she could make attractive and enjoy. 
 
 Ned had taken it rather painfully at first, and held 
 aloof in his diffident fashion. Leonard dropped into an 
 easy-going familiarity. They found the house bright and 
 cheerful, their father thawing out of his unsocial ways, 
 their own pleasure consulted, and they paid her a respect- 
 ful regard. 
 
 Edward had been really fascinated with the social life 
 everywhere, the strength, dignity and intelligence of the 
 heads of the families. Mrs. Carew was the " Cousin 
 Dell" of Sherburne House, the admirable mother who 
 found time and interest for much outside of her own life. 
 Doctor Carew stood high in his profession and was the 
 author of several notable works, with a broader scope 
 than mere technical knowledge. Even in midsummer 
 when people were thronging seasides and mountains, 
 there were well attended evenings at the Draytons, it 
 seemed, and Aunt Millicent was charming. The Mallorys 
 welcomed the cousins warmly. And they could hardly ac- 
 cept the fact that Mrs. Kenneth was an invalid, she was 
 so vivacious and entertaining. 
 
 "And what relation is Miss Ensign?" Cousin Ned 
 asked. " Every time I think of you girls I get confused 
 and tangled up. I shall have to draw a family tree." 
 
 The "girls" laughed as they suddenly stared at each 
 other. 
 
 "A relation by grace," replied Ruth, with a most at- 
 tractive smile. "At school the girls used to envy the 
 Sherburne cousins, they had such good times among them- 
 selves, and they were not exclusive either. They opened 
 the gates to the charmed pastures and invited us in "
 
 58 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "That was Princess," interposed Violet. 
 
 Princess flushed rosy red. 
 
 " And I have half adopted Miss Ensign to console me 
 for my daughter who married and deserved a good long 
 holiday," said Mrs. Kenneth. 
 
 "And I think Mrs. Townsend has about half adopted 
 Gertie Maurice. Now you have all the moving history," 
 laughed Pearl. 
 
 Princess was attracted by the quick, pleasurable lights 
 that came and went in Ruth's face as the professor made 
 a little aside in the talk to her. She would not need to 
 go away, even when love came. 
 
 Aunt Lyndell waived her right to the young people 
 since Mrs. Townsend had selected the last evening of 
 their stay for her entertainment. There were several 
 others invited, and Gertrude being in part hostess, dis- 
 pensed her attentions so impartially that Sherburne Beau- 
 manior felt a little vexed at not being able to monopolize 
 her. But there would be all next winter, so he consoled 
 himself. He inherited some of his father's easy philos- 
 ophy. 
 
 It was really lonesome when the bright young company 
 had gone. Ned had been strongly inclined to remain 
 and have a quiet fortnight with the professor and learn 
 something about his new duties. But he really did owe 
 that respect to his father who had been generous with 
 both boys while they were abroad. 
 
 " I never supposed there was the making of such a fine 
 man in Ned Beaumanoir," said Doctor Carew to his wife. 
 "I wish he were going to be my student, only I can't 
 imagine a fellow with such delicate nerves and tastes 
 practicing medicine." 
 
 " O, you must not like any of the boys better than
 
 IN THE RETROSPECT. 59 
 
 Sherburne," exclaimed Lyndell, flushing in her excite- 
 ment. " Think of the old times and that long ago wed- 
 
 ding." 
 
 "And the gift of Sherburne House, and the baby's 
 birth, and our own wedding. All those times are 
 crowded with tenderest remembrances. And Sherburne 
 expressed one hope, or half prediction that when he was 
 elderly and had made fame and money and Sherburne 
 House came to him, he should go there and live, and be 
 a sort of country benefactor, take up the work Doctor 
 Underwood would lay down." 
 
 "That is a delightful plan," exclaimed Dell, her eyes 
 alight with emotion and interest. 
 
 " He won't achieve it, I am afraid. I am really trou- 
 bled about this new plan. He went wild you know over 
 languages and literature and would go abroad. What- 
 ever gave him this fancy — he entertained it before he 
 came home and has been studying up a little. I do not 
 want his father to think I persuaded him. Leonard's 
 heart was set upon his studying law." 
 
 "I think medicine grander, higher." 
 
 "For some men — yes. Yet I think a lawyer oftener 
 comes up to the fine places in public life. And I am 
 sorry to have Len disappointed. Then too, there would 
 be such an excellent connection for a young fellow to 
 step into. However, Sherburne may change his mind." 
 
 " But I do like his ideal." 
 
 "I wonder — " Bertram Carew studied his wife's face 
 with a half nervous scrutiny. 
 
 "O, you needn't tell me," she responded, laughingly. 
 "When you say 'wonder ' in that tone, I know it means 
 'will you never be sorry that one of our boys is not 
 going back to the old home to be Sherburne of Sher-
 
 60 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 burne House ? ' Would you take it back on the possi- 
 bility?" 
 
 "A thousand times no. I aided and abetted you. I 
 think I asked it of you as a preliminary to marriage." 
 There was a gleam of amusement in his eyes. "My 
 dear Lyndell, Leonard's love for the place and care of it 
 is enough to reward us both. Who could have made 
 Aunt Amelia so happy, and given Cousin Carrick just 
 that kind of home for her declining years ! Our destiny 
 lay in a different direction. Our boys will have a wide 
 range to choose from. And Sherburne's dream is like 
 the happy ending of a delightful romance. But it is a 
 long way from twenty to fifty, and ideals change." 
 
 " But you will do your best for him ? " anxiously. 
 
 "As if he was my own son, — if he comes back in the 
 autumn of the same mind." 
 
 " You do not quite trust him." 
 
 " His temperament is a little volatile. What seems 
 like strength may be an eager desire to please one's self. 
 He is a handsome, attractive fellow, and doesn't appear 
 to have acquired any vices, one of the young men who 
 will be a general favorite with society and that the world 
 will judge leniently. Do you want me to express any 
 more admiration for the heir of Sherburne ? ' ' 
 
 "You have been very generous," returned Lyndell, 
 smilingly. " O, how strange it seems with all these 
 little children growing up to men and women ! When 
 the first person gave birth to the aphorism that 'Child- 
 hood was the happiest time of life,' he should have added 
 'to the parents.' You do not have to think what you 
 shall do with them, nor feel afraid of some unreason- 
 able love affair. O, I am glad that I have a few more 
 years of grace."
 
 IN THE RETROSPECT. 61 
 
 Doctor Carew bent over and kissed his wife. 
 
 "It is quite ridiculous to think of sons-in-law, and 
 daughters-in-law. I am afraid I shall not be able to 
 select as wisely as dear father did. ' His little girl.' I 
 think that is in some old letters." 
 
 The soft tears flooded Lyndell's eyes. Yes, that had 
 been a happy time in spite of its sorrows and her first 
 dreadful summer at Sherburne House. She had been 
 the child of the father's love before she had been the 
 son's wife. 
 
 There began preparations for the home-going. Edward 
 Beaumanoir would spend another week in the city, and 
 he had half a mind to go to Labrador with Professor 
 Kenneth, but Sherburne persuaded him to come to them 
 for a visit, and he did owe his father some respect. Mrs. 
 Osborne begged the Carew twins, as they were all eager- 
 ness to see the younger Beaumanoir cousins. 
 
 It was quite lonely when they had gone. But there 
 were to be summer plans for the others. 
 
 " I think we shall have to own an island or a hotel," 
 declared Mr. Drayton, humorously. "There are so 
 many of us, and we agree so well together that we might 
 start a regular colony."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 IN THE BOSOM OF THE FAMILY. 
 
 f^ ERTRUDE MAURICE started homeward with a 
 ^-* variety of emotions. She longed to see the house- 
 hold, yet she shrank from the first meeting. She had 
 changed greatly she knew. The littleness of everything 
 would stifle her. 
 
 Yet why should her broader, truer outlook lead to any 
 diminution of affection ? Had they truly loved each 
 other ? She had cared most for Agnes and her father, 
 but her father was so different from these other fathers, 
 who took such exquisite interest in their children. It 
 made her heart ache. It also made her frightened and 
 ashamed. 
 
 Agnes had married Mr. Rowdon early in the winter. 
 Gertrude would have liked her to be more frank and 
 more enthusiastic about her own feelings. Her thoughts 
 seemed to be of the good home and the kindly husband. 
 It would relieve papa of some care, for they were to take 
 Virginia, who was a delicate child. Old Nancy who did 
 their washing and chores, and was a tolerable cook, 
 would come for low wages, "and you know mamma 
 dotes on a servant," wrote Agnes. " Mr. Rowdon has 
 grown very fond of me in certain ways and we shall get 
 along very well together. If you can spare Lu and 
 Elsie a little now and then for clothes, we shall all be 
 content. Only send the money to me to spend, for you 
 know mamma has no great judgment in such matters, 
 
 62
 
 IN THE BOSOM OF THE FAMILY. 63 
 
 and I shall expect to look after some things just as if I 
 were still at home." 
 
 There had been a family dinner at the Rowdons. The 
 parlor had been newly furnished to some extent. Agnes 
 seemed thoroughly satisfied with her pleasant home and 
 her elderly husband. Luella wrote complaining letters 
 occasionally, and begged for money, or to have some 
 suitable garment sent her. She thought it very hard 
 that Agnes should receive the money when she had 
 enough of her own. 
 
 Mrs. Maurice never wrote any letters. She, too, sent 
 her complaints through Agnes. Her father sent love and 
 good wishes and hoped she was enjoying herself. So all 
 the family affairs came through the commonplace but 
 rather philosophical pen, and Gertrude's past experience 
 enabled her to understand that the present was much 
 like the past. 
 
 why should people be so different ? There was a 
 long line of ancestry on her mother's side, who always 
 bewailed the fact that she had put a slight upon it by 
 marrying Mr. Maurice. It would have been bad enough 
 if he had proved Aunt Sampson's heir. And Gertrude 
 had brought fresh misfortune on the family by not being 
 a boy. None of the others were ever blamed as severely 
 as she, though she could not understand why. So she 
 kept thinking on her homeward journey of the green and 
 sunny pastures she had left behind. She did not so much 
 mind now that Mr. Murray's greeting had been gay and 
 friendly. She had told herself the whole year that the 
 odd little episode had really meant nothing. She under- 
 stood how many flattering speeches men could make to 
 women, that were the outcome of momentary pleasure. 
 And she had learned too, that without beauty she had a
 
 64 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 certain attractiveness. Now that she knew her position 
 was assured, she should be in no haste to marry. She 
 would like to be loved fondly, warmly, she confessed 
 secretly to. herself. Perhaps such husbands as Mr. 
 Amory and Air. Drayton and Doctor Carew were above 
 the average. Would she have fulfilled her own purposes 
 of life better if she had not had that lovely summer? 
 And yet if God sent all things, — and she had not out- 
 grown her childhood's faith in a supreme ruler, — had He 
 not sent that delightful experience to her ? 
 
 The town was unchanged. It looked less business-like, 
 or was it the contrast with busier places? Down yonder 
 she could see the piles of lumber grown grey and weather- 
 beaten. A man pulled his faded felt hat to her and 
 said — 
 
 " Hillo ! Back agen, Mis' Maurice ? Heerd you were 
 out in Californy ! Great country that ! Why — 'pears to 
 me you've grown taller ! " 
 
 She nodded and passed on. There were other half- 
 asleep towns in the world. There were other places of 
 small interest, bounded by the semi-annual house clean- 
 ing, the church affairs, the summer picnic and the 
 winter "supper," the Christmas doings, and the gossip 
 on Sundays about "Who was sick, who had made a 
 new rug, or a new gown, or a new comfortable, or occa- 
 sionally who had a new baby, or who was engaged." 
 Most of the girls married young if not well, the others at 
 a little past twenty accepted the fate of spinsterhood, to 
 the mortification of the mothers. The simplicity of 
 country life that people sometimes raved over meant 
 stagnation. A woman's club would be horrifying to these 
 people, a woman doctor and a woman lecturer was quite 
 outside the pale of respectability.
 
 IN THE BOSOM OF THE FAMILY. 65 
 
 It almost seemed as if her mother could not have 
 moved since last summer. She sat on the porch in the 
 low rocker ; she glanced up and received the kiss of the 
 tall girl bending over her, with no especial show of emo- 
 tion, and no word of welcome. 
 
 "Are you well? Where are the others?" in a rapid 
 tone to keep down the great lump in her throat. 
 
 "I am never well" — pointedly. "But I get along. 
 O, they are all over to the Rowdon house. It has been 
 very pleasant to have the interest, and Agnes has proved 
 herself a thoughtful daughter. In a place like this girls 
 cannot have much choice, and I said to Agnes — ' A bird 
 in the hand is worth two in the bush.' Mr. Rowdon 
 had his home and his money. I married your father not 
 supposing his adopted mother, for she was that, was go- 
 ing to cut him off with a paltry five hundred dollars. If 
 you had been a boy — and Gertrude, you should have 
 married Mr. Rowdon. Not but what Agnes makes him 
 a better wife, only you were older, and it is a bad sign 
 for the oldest not to go first." 
 
 "Yes, Agnes suits him a great deal better," said Ger- 
 trude, in the pause. 
 
 "I'm sure I don't see where you got your ideas from, 
 Gertrude. I have tried to bring my girls up in a 
 womanly fashion. In Bible times they were meant for 
 wives and mothers, and to be the centre of a home. It 
 stands to reason that an old maid can't be the centre of 
 anything, and never can have a home." 
 
 "O yes, there are single women who have lovely 
 homes," interposed Gertrude. 
 
 "That is a matter of opinion. I believe all your rich 
 friends of last summer were married, and I suppose they 
 expect their daughters to marry. At all events I expect
 
 66 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 my girls to marry, and Agnes has set them a good ex- 
 ample if you don't interfere and spoil their lives as Aunt 
 Sampson did yours." 
 
 " I am not likely to interfere," returned Gertrude, with 
 a touch of bitterness. "I may keep my position for 
 some years to come." 
 
 That answered a question her mother meant to get 
 around to presently. She fancied herself quite adroit in 
 some things. But that a girl could go out to California 
 and back again and see a great deal of society and not 
 find a lover, passed her narrow comprehension. The girl 
 must be very unattractive. She glanced sidewise at 
 Gertrude. The soft blue and white fine checked silk was 
 stylish, her gloves were an exquisite fit — Gertrude had a 
 small hand like her own. Her dark blue straw hat was 
 becoming, turned up at one side with a bunch of field 
 flowers. She had a black wrap and a dark -blue parasol. 
 She did look very ladylike. Then why did she not 
 have a lover ? Was there such a thing as being born for 
 an old maid." The mother sighed. 
 
 A wagon and a big bony horse came rattling up the 
 street with her trunk. Mrs. Maurice rang a little bell on 
 the table beside her. 
 
 "Nancy," when the rather untidy woman answered 
 tardily, "will you show Miss Maurice up to her room. 
 And let the man take her trunk." 
 
 "Land, Miss Gertie, how tall you be! Why you 
 must have growed ! ' ' 
 
 "Nancy," with a certain sharpness, "will you remem- 
 ber that she is Miss Maurice, the oldest girl in the 
 family, older than her married sister." 
 
 " Land now ! " and Nancy stared. Farther south she 
 would have been classed among the poor whites. Mrs.
 
 IN THE BOSOM OF THE FAMILY. 67 
 
 Maurice would much rather have had a black serving 
 woman, but they came higher. 
 
 Gertrude had risen. "Mamma, perhaps I had as 
 
 well run over and see the girls 
 
 " I should imagine when you had been away almost a 
 year, Gertrude, that your mother would be your first 
 thought. But I suppose business women pay little atten- 
 tion to such things." 
 
 " Of course I will stay." Gertrude put some cheerful- 
 ness in her voice. She had learned many lessons the last 
 year, and one was that the world had not been made 
 solely for her. 
 
 She followed Nancy and the trunk upstairs. How 
 nice and homey it looked— just as it had in the reign of 
 Agnes. She could not have guessed that the young wife 
 had been over in the morning and "straightened up" 
 everything. She hung up her sacque and hat in the 
 small closet, unlocked her trunk and shook out some 
 gowns. Her best silk and her evening gown had been 
 consigned to Mrs. Kenneth's care. True, her evening 
 gown had been a gift from Mrs. Townsend, but she did 
 not want to arouse a suspicion of extravagance. A few 
 other articles went into the empty bureau drawer. She 
 bathed her face and hands, laid aside her waist for a fresh 
 cambric, and went down again. 
 
 "It's very poor and plain after hotel life," began Mrs. 
 Maurice, complainingly. " But with five girls your father 
 has had a hard pull, Gertrude." 
 
 " And now there are only three for him to think about, 
 since I can care for myself," was the cheerful comment. 
 
 "And Agnes is well married," with dignified empha- 
 sis. " I could wish Mr. Rowdon had been younger, but 
 in a town like this, and no advantages for travel, you
 
 68 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 must do the best you can. Your school and travel has 
 not done much for you, it would seem." 
 
 " Yes, it has given me a good friend and pleasant em- 
 ployment, and an opportunity to do a little for the girls." 
 
 She would not be quite put down. 
 
 Her mother sniffed in disapprobation. 
 
 They would never agree about themselves. Gertrude 
 began to ask after the neighbors. One or two had died, 
 several of the girls had married. "And the Conover 
 boys had both gone to Philadelphia to business. Joe is 
 engaged to a girl there. That makes it so hard for the 
 girls here. And Rachel Blake is teaching in the high 
 school, which I think would have been much better for 
 you." 
 
 " But there was no vacancy last summer. And Rachel 
 had some experience in the public school." 
 
 There was a silence of some moments. 
 
 "Gertrude, I must express one wish, though I dare 
 say it won't have much weight with you, yet it seems as 
 if you ought to obey me in my own home. I don't want 
 you to infect Lu with your wild ideas. She has some 
 unwomanly notions in her head now." 
 
 Gertrude could think of no reply to make. 
 
 "A young man has begun to wait on her. Every 
 mother wishes to see her daughters in homes of their 
 own. She is in the high school, but she isn't — Agnes 
 thinks she has no gift for teaching, and it is a dog's life. 
 I have never \*mted my girls to lower themselves by any 
 employment. There should be something delicate and 
 high-bred about a young girl, a sort of cloistered sweet- 
 ness, a — I think the PVench bring up their daughters 
 with a fine sense of propriety." 
 
 Gertrude thought of Agnes drudging in the kitchen,
 
 IN THE BOSOM OF THE FAMILY. 69 
 
 with a woman only now and then of a day. Why was 
 her mother always looking at far-off ideals ! 
 
 "Who is waiting on Luella?" she asked, briefly. 
 
 " Perhaps it isn't quite keeping company," the mother 
 admitted. "It is Ross Adams. He drops in now and 
 then and walks home from church with her." 
 
 " But he is so young ! " exclaimed Gertrude, in amaze. 
 
 "They are both young. Your father and I were 
 young. There is a beginning to everything." 
 
 Gertrude did not controvert this. 
 
 "So I do not want you to encourage her in any wild 
 ideas about going away from home. There is no better 
 place than home for a young girl. And I don't see that 
 you have done so very much by your independence," 
 harping on the grievance. 
 
 There was a whirl up the path and Luella' s boisterous 
 greeting, Elsie's delighted hug and kiss. 
 
 " We weren't sure you would come to-day, and if you 
 did, Agnes said we were all to come back after supper. 
 She's making some delicious corn fritters — I do wonder 
 what we are going to have ! " and the whirlwind sped 
 out to the kitchen. 
 
 "O Gertie, how beautiful you have grown," whispered 
 Elsie, nestling against her shoulder. "I want to be 
 very handsome, like the girls in pictures, and I want 
 pink cheeks, not staring red ones." 
 
 She patted her silk skirt with a delicate touch. And 
 then Mr. Maurice came up the path an«i shook both of 
 Gertrude's hands, and kissed her warmly. 
 
 "We didn't know as we should ever get you back 
 again," he began. " I wonder some of the fellows over 
 there," nodding his head westward, "didn't snap you 
 up."
 
 7 o THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Gertrude colored. She remembered that in this small 
 town much was made of marriage, there was indeed no 
 other career open to women except a little teaching, a 
 little "sewing round," still lower in the social scale, a 
 paperbox factory, lower still, and a canning factory with 
 its work part of the year. 
 
 Mrs. Maurice sniffed with an air that suggested no one 
 was likely to want Gertrude. 
 
 Still her father was more interested in her doings and 
 what she had seen, and the fact that she was quite able 
 to take care of herself. For years he had heard the 
 groaning over five girls, as if it had been a conspiracy 
 between him and them. And he was proud of her 
 traveling about. People with wider outlooks called her 
 a lucky girl. 
 
 Gertrude was really impatient to see Agnes in her own 
 home. She and Lu started presently. It was a pleasant 
 walk through the quiet streets, with the stars shining 
 through spaces in the tree branches that met overhead. 
 She hardly noted Lu's chatter. 
 
 Agnes and Mr. Rowdon were sitting- on the new porch, 
 that was already vine-wreathed. She uttered an exclam- 
 ation of delight as she sprang up and greeted Gertrude 
 warmly. Mr. Rowdon was very cordial, but as he looked 
 her over and in a vague fashion that he did not under- 
 stand himself, noted the dignity and the air of self-knowl- 
 edge that pervaded her, indications of a certain strength 
 and force, he wondered how he had ever thought of 
 marrying her. 
 
 " We were not going to look for you until to-morrow," 
 Agnes began. "And it will be such a pleasure to have 
 you a whole month ! To think of the wonderful things 
 you have seen ! And your letters were next best to see-
 
 IN THE BOSOM OF THE FAMILY. 71 
 
 ing it one's self, only I think I should feel frightened to 
 go roaming round the world." 
 
 ' ' But when you are not alone, and everything goes so 
 smoothly " 
 
 "But it must cost a mint of money," said Mr. Row- 
 don, filling the little pause she made, and her thought 
 had been the money also. "There's no knowing what 
 you may want for old age." 
 
 Old age looked far off to the youthful side of twenty. 
 
 She pressed the hand of Agnes that she was still hold- 
 ing in her own. Her sister's welcome had gone to her 
 heart. 
 
 Mr. Rowdon took up his pipe again. Lu asked where 
 Virgie was. 
 
 " Her head ached and she went to bed. Your walk 
 was too long, Lu. Virgie cannot stand so much. Don't 
 you want to see the house, Gertie? " Agnes asked, with 
 some pride. 
 
 " O yes," was the interested reply. 
 
 "The porch is so nice, isn't it? I sit out there half 
 the time. And you never would know this room. It 
 used to be the kitchen." 
 
 It was kitchen and parlor and everything but sleeping- 
 room in Miss Maria's time. Now the wall had been 
 painted a light pinkish grey, the old sofa freshly covered, 
 the rush bottomed chairs had a new coat of greenish yel- 
 low, the big fireplace was full of feathery asparagus and 
 looked like a fairy bower. There were two small tables 
 with bowls of flowers on them, some hanging shelves with 
 books, a wall pocket with papers and a dining-table with 
 a red and white cloth. 
 
 "But the kitchen is my pride," exclaimed house- 
 wifely Agnes. "It is so new and nice, and closets
 
 72 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 everywhere, and only four steps down to the spring- 
 house, the milk-room, where everything is so beautifully 
 cool. And a shed for wood — look here ! " opening a 
 door. " We use it nearly always, for I can keep it so 
 tidy. O Gertie, it is such a delight to have a house of 
 one's own ; and some one who is thinking about your 
 comfort all the time." 
 
 Lu had not followed them hither. Gertrude turned 
 quickly and gave her sister a deep questioning glance. 
 
 "You are happy?" she asked, with a curious huski- 
 ness of tone. 
 
 Agnes flushed, laughed and looked oddly pretty. 
 
 "Why — yes," she replied. "Gertrude, you don't 
 mind that he — that " 
 
 "That he gave me up? O, no." 
 
 "But you gave him up, he said. Though he thought 
 he had made a mistake. You see he came a good deal 
 the summer you were in Maine, but we used to talk 
 about you. I was afraid you did not appreciate him. I 
 can see now it never would have done. And I think he 
 had a hard time with Miss Maria, which made him 
 queerer. He is old fashioned to be sure " 
 
 "lam sorry he is so much older than you." 
 
 « Well — he grows younger, he really does," and there 
 was a pleasant ring in the wife's voice. "Then you 
 know I had grown so used to papa." 
 
 They turned about. 
 
 "I keep Miss Maria's room for the guest chamber. 
 He had some cousins come from Farmington and they 
 had such a nice visit. They had quarreled with Miss 
 Maria, though they attended the funeral. I liked them 
 ever so much. And we haven't changed any of the par- 
 lor furniture, only to put up curtains and a few pictures,
 
 IN THE BOSOM OF THE FAMILY. 73 
 
 and here is a beautiful lamp husband gave me for my 
 birthday, and father gave me this chair when I was mar- 
 ried. Gertie, your gift was lovely. And you have been so 
 generous. You must not pinch yourself." 
 
 She had pinched herself more than once. 
 
 Agnes had a hand-lamp in her hand. The parlor 
 would have looked gloomy but for the drapery at the 
 window. And it had the chill of unused rooms, even in 
 the summer. 
 
 " You had better save up a little I think if you can 
 spare any," said the thoughtful younger sister. " You 
 see you have been away from home so much, and you 
 don't quite understand. Mamma has not the first idea 
 of the value of money. And papa was behindhand. 
 Mamma wanted a grand wedding, but I said it really 
 wasn't suitable for Mr. Rowdon. We just had a little 
 party, and quite an elaborate supper when we came home 
 here. And now papa is pretty well out of debt. I made 
 some of your gowns and your coat over for Lu, and they 
 did real well all winter. I gave papa twenty-five dollars 
 of your money and he was so delighted. Poor papa," 
 and she sighed. 
 
 " Why I would have sent it to him " 
 
 "I know, dear, I asked you to send it to me. You 
 see mamma or Lu would have spent it injudiciously. 
 And now papa's expenses are smaller, with only three of 
 them, and I want Lu to keep at school and graduate. 
 Then she could teach." 
 
 "Or marry," said Gertrude, with a laugh. 
 "I hope she will be sensible about that. She ought 
 to steady down. But we will have some good long talks. 
 You must come over here and stay. You can't think 
 how papa enjoys coming to Sunday night supper."
 
 74 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "My room upstairs is all refurnished," Agnes added, 
 " but I will save that to show you next time. O, there- 
 are so many things to say." 
 
 Mr. Rowdon was actually teasing his young sister-in- 
 law, who was sitting on the porch step. 
 
 " And you fell in with all those Maine people again," 
 began Agnes. Gertrude was glad to talk about them. 
 But Lu bounced up presently and declared they must go 
 home. 
 
 It was like being in a different world, Gertrude found 
 in a few days. Sometimes she smiled to herself over the 
 complacent narrowness. And yet most of these people 
 were happy comparing notes about everything in their 
 small round, exchanging recipes and sleeve and skirt 
 patterns, and having their hats and bonnets trimmed with 
 "just such a bow as Mrs. Golden had on hers." Miss 
 Frear, the milliner, did not have to rack her brains for 
 original ideas. The style was what every one adopted, 
 and even last year's gown was not so utterly out of place. 
 
 She settled to the assurance that Agnes was truly 
 happy. And she learned one fact to which she had given 
 little thought before, that Agnes took a very fervent de- 
 light in making others happy. She put Mr. Rowdon at 
 his best, and really there were some good points that Miss 
 Maria had nipped off in her arbitrary fashion, because 
 they neither saved nor made money. Hoarding up had 
 been the poor woman's religion. 
 
 The years between them were not so dreadfully in 
 evidence. Agnes looked well, she had taken up the 
 cares of life too soon to have any real girlhood. She 
 had been her father's adviser the last three years, and she 
 soon slipped into the same place with Mr. Rowdon. 
 The alterations in the house, the garden with its thrifty
 
 IN THE BOSOM OF THE FAMILY. 75 
 
 vegetables, its clean paths, the pretty flower-beds, where 
 she often weeded or transplanted with him, the neat table 
 with its pretty porcelain and snowy cloth instead of the 
 checked and chipped dishes soon became his pride. 
 
 Was it not beauty and orderliness in the common ways 
 of life? Was it not really the finer endeavor to make 
 those around one happy ? Agnes had no ambition for 
 the high places. There was no restless yearning, no 
 thought of being wasted in the small round. She read 
 the newspaper to her husband, and Gertrude found she 
 had some very correct and sensible opinions. They 
 went out driving, they called upon the neighbors, though 
 this was rather a trial to him ; he enjoyed their coming 
 in much more. And Agnes dressed better. She dis- 
 carded the depressing greys for pretty ginghams, because 
 Mr. Rowdon liked them. And little Virginia was a 
 source of interest to them both. 
 
 Every day she went over home and gave Nancy some 
 suggestions and listened to her mother's complainings 
 with a tender patience, as if she recognized that any at- 
 tempt to alter the current of the weak, opinionated mind 
 would be futile. Yet Mrs. Maurice had come to have a 
 great respect for her married daughter, and treated her 
 with a deference that astonished Gertrude. 
 
 Luella's restlessness was a source of some disquiet. 
 Agnes said much the same thing about her to Gertrude 
 as Mrs. Maurice had, only in a different manner. But 
 Lu seized the first opportunity to express her desires quite 
 vigorously. 
 
 " I'm just as tired of this place as you ever were, Ger- 
 trude," she said, decisively. "And I wish you'd find 
 me something to do in the city." 
 
 " At what? " in rather amused inquiry.
 
 76 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " ( >, I don't rare. I could tend in a store. I suppose 
 I couldn't find a Mrs. Tovvnsend to take me up. Gert, 
 you are lucky ! " 
 
 ''You couldn't fill the place; you could not at pres- 
 ent take any position where responsibility and experience 
 were demanded. You need training " 
 
 " You get the experience by doing things," interrupted 
 the younger. " And I just hate the little things over and 
 over. I want something wider and different, where you 
 can have some pleasure." 
 
 "If you begin with the pleasures, you will be sadly 
 disappointed." 
 
 " I am sure you have had lots of them." 
 
 " I have been fortunate, I think. But I was older than 
 you, and had my school training. You couldn't do any- 
 thing in such a place, Lu. And you would get tired of 
 writing letters and seeing people who did not interest 
 you, who were unreasonable and full of vanity and con- 
 ceit, and who thought they could be put in the front 
 ranks and make a future at once." 
 
 "I'd send them flying " 
 
 "But you couldn't. You must be polite, and as gra- 
 cious as possible. You cannot understand, Luella. You 
 have been so used to doing just what you like, or grum- 
 bling about the things you don't like. And girls in stores 
 and offices make long days and earn a poor living, many 
 of them. They have a small room in a poor boarding- 
 house, and no society to speak of. Everything costs so 
 much in a city. Then if you are teaching, it is some 
 years before you come up to a good salary." 
 
 "But girls do have a good time somewhere. There 
 are places to go, and — and theatres and parties " 
 
 ' ' When you are through school and have graduated,
 
 IN THE BOSOM OF THE FAMILY. 77 
 
 and have toned down a little, if I am in the city, I will 
 promise you an outing, so you will see what the city is 
 like, and whether a life of work looks so inviting. But 
 you must try and be more ladylike and gentle in your 
 ways, and refined." 
 
 "You are a fussy old thing!" flung out Luella. 
 "You'll just be an old maid, as mamma says." 
 
 " There are plenty of them in the great cities. There 
 are not so many chances to marry." 
 
 "I should think there would be more. And I mean 
 to marry," with emphasis. 
 
 "Then you ought to fit yourself for home-making. 
 You couldn't have a better pattern than Agnes." 
 
 " Well, I'm not going to marry an old fellow like that, 
 and never go to parties or dances, and just putter around 
 about housework ! You'll see ! " and Luella tossed her 
 head airly. " But it does seem as if you might do some- 
 thing for me." 
 
 Gertrude studied the unreasonable, ignorant child, and 
 then she laughed at the foolishness of trying to argue 
 with her. 
 
 "You needn't laugh, either." Lu turned very red 
 and her eyes sparkled. 
 
 "I will do something, if you will fit yourself for it. 
 This is a promise, Luella. If you will graduate fairly 
 well, I will be on the watch for an opportunity. At 
 least, you may come and try— if I keep my position." 
 
 a Well— I can't graduate next year. I didn't get in 
 the class," she said, disconsolately. 
 
 " Two years. You will be young then." 
 
 "I wish you'd send me some money," she began, 
 presently. " Why should Agnes have it all? And I do 
 want a silk gown so."
 
 78 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "I'll give you a silk gown, if that will make you 
 hap})y." 
 
 "O, that will be great! Two of the girls are going 
 to have birthday parties in the fall. And Gertrude, if I 
 could have a real party — would it cost very much?" 
 
 "We might all join and help you out," and Gertrude 
 smiled. Had she ever been as silly as this? She had 
 recognized the limitations of a small income, and Agnes 
 had been sensible all her life. What could she do to 
 improve this inconsequent, thoughtless girl, who seemed 
 to have no idea but personal enjoyment of the flightiest 
 kind, and not as sensible as little Virginia. And of all 
 things in this world common sense was needed most. 
 
 "Luella," she began again, gravely, "if you mean to 
 be or do anything worth while, you will find education 
 is a necessity. And pretty, refined manners ' ' 
 
 "O gracious! don't lecture any more!" exclaimed 
 the younger. 
 
 For Lu was still a hoyden, and ran races and climbed 
 trees and could take a fence equal to a boy. What a 
 pity she had not been a boy ! 
 
 "Events do go contrariwise in this world," she said to 
 Agnes, with a sigh, after she had repeated the gist of this 
 conversation. 
 
 "And some go smoothly enough, or would, if we did 
 not interfere," said the younger, with a smile. "I'm 
 not sure but a boy like Lu would be the finish of us all. 
 I sometimes wonder why all these children were given to 
 mamma, who doesn't understand a thing about managing 
 children, when there are so many people in the world 
 longing for one or two. We can only hope Lu will tame 
 down in a year or two."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IN A STRAIT BETWIXT TWO. 
 
 'TpHE greatest surprise of Gertrude's month at home 
 ■*■ was a note from Sherburne Beaumanoir, a pleas- 
 ant, chatty, off-hand epistle, detailing some of their sum- 
 mer pleasures, and wishing she could be there to share 
 them, and announcing that he should run up from Bal- 
 timore and make a call upon her. 
 
 Gertrude was simply amazed. There was nothing to 
 take exception at ; it was gentlemanly, friendly, as if 
 they had been acquainted all their lives, and such a call 
 was the most natural thing in the world. In a certain 
 way it was gratifying, but quite impossible. It would fill 
 her mother's head with foolish plans and hopes that would 
 make no end of gossip in the town. Friendliness between 
 young people Mrs. Maurice could not understand. With 
 her, every attention pointed the way to matrimony. 
 
 There was another vague aspect to Gertrude. She 
 was beginning to realize the susceptible side to young 
 men. And though this spurt of admiration might mean 
 only a temporary interest, it was not wisdom to encourage 
 it. Still with the other side of her nature she could see 
 the half amusement, half vexation such a fancy would 
 cause, even if it was evanescent. And now that they had 
 taken her up so cordially, she would do nothing to annoy 
 them. 
 
 She had numerous engagements. The neighbors about 
 made old-fashioned tea-parties for her. To have been in 
 
 79
 
 So THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 California, to say nothing of the nearer-by cities, was 
 quite equal to going to Europe in their estimation. Mrs. 
 Maurice was somewhat mollified with these attentions, 
 though she took pains to explain for the hundredth time 
 that Gertrude's going away was against her will, and that 
 she never did or could approve of business women ; that 
 home must always be the true centre of a woman's life. 
 She wrote a dainty little note, pleading engagements 
 and short absences from home, and the general dull 
 aspect the town would have for a stranger who had seen 
 so much, with a suggestion of inconvenience she knew 
 his good breeding would lead him to respect. And yet 
 she smiled a little to herself, in the thought that she 
 might attract the nephew as well as the uncle. Mr. 
 Murray's fancy had not been of the durable kind, evi- 
 dently. 
 
 When she fell into a fit of wonderment as to how 
 Agnes could be happy with a man so much older than 
 himself, she thought of Mr. Murray. In a certain fashion 
 he seemed to have shaped her judgment of young men. 
 They appeared so very youthful to her. And there had 
 been Ward Garrison, who had recently married the girl 
 selected for him and was very happy it seemed. Perhaps 
 if she had met him quite alone with no stronger influence 
 at hand, she might have drifted into the regard many 
 girls think strong enough to marry upon, and are reason- 
 ably satisfied. She knew Mr. Murray had made such a 
 step impossible to her, and that during the past year 
 other men had suffered by comparison with him. Why 
 should she make him the arbiter of her destiny? This 
 mysterious influence that she could not shake off, fretted 
 her. And much as she really loved Princess Beaumanoir 
 and admired her mother, it was Mr. Murray's disap-
 
 IN A STRAIT BETWIXT TWO 81 
 
 proval that stood out the most strongly against any ex- 
 pressed admiration on the young man's part. 
 
 She spent days with Agnes, helping with the family 
 sewing, the burthen the young wife had taken cheerfully 
 to her new home. 
 
 "I sometimes wonder if time ever hangs heavy on 
 mamma's hands," she said one day to Agnes. "There 
 is a great deal said about the folly and frivolity of society 
 women, and yet they keep very busy, if it is only pleas- 
 ure. Some of them, many of them are in charitable or 
 philanthropic work, and even society visiting makes de- 
 mands on one. You are expected to add your mite to 
 the general entertainment. Think of the time mamma 
 spends just sitting on the porch looking at the same 
 things she has looked at for thirty or forty years. She 
 can darn lace exquisitely, and tablecloths and stockings. 
 But it would be an excellent idea to now and then have 
 the breath of strong new things. And those fifty or hun- 
 dred-year-old novels she reads, with their exaggerated 
 ideas and formal manners — yet one finds a great deal of 
 roughness and coarseness in them as well. O, I do like 
 the modern world. There must be a good many 
 changes." 
 
 " I suppose there have been since mamma's time. Yet 
 she is not so very old either. But I think she must have 
 been brought up on still farther back lines, when delicacy 
 was considered one of the greatest virtues. And she was 
 an only child." 
 
 "And had a little money and didn't have to scramble 
 as we always have," laughed Gertrude. " It is partly in 
 the place, too. Cities adapt new ideas sooner than in- 
 land towns. The world goes on with a rush. It is such 
 a great, splendid world, Agnes."
 
 82 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "But you see every one doesn't like the rush. So it is 
 good that there are ways of satisfying different people." 
 
 " And you are satisfied ? " 
 
 Gertrude's tone was as much wonder as assertion. 
 
 Agnes flushed and gave an irresolute little laugh. 
 
 " Not satisfied to stop," she replied. " I want ever so 
 many more things to happen, things I can help along." 
 
 "As what ?" 
 
 "I want Virgie to get well and strong. I think she 
 has some rather curious traits, and she is fond of learning 
 about people and what they have done. Perhaps by and 
 by you can help her, Gertrude. And Elsie is a good deal 
 like me ; she will make a housekeeper if she gets the right 
 kind of training." 
 
 " Who trained you?" There was a spice of mischief 
 in Gertrude's tone. 
 
 "I suppose I had the aptitude for it that you had for 
 learning. I should have been miserable at school, and 
 I couldn't go about as you have done. Yet I enjoy your 
 letters better than any book I have ever read. They are 
 so vivid, you can see the places and the people. I read 
 them to Mr. Rowdon, and he used to look so for their 
 coming." 
 
 "Then if they do you so much good, I shall write 
 oftener." 
 
 " O, please do. Virgie was so delighted when you de- 
 scribed people." 
 
 And sometimes Gertrude had wondered what she should 
 write about ! The effort had been irksome. She hardly 
 thought her gossip, often put in to fill up, would prove 
 so entertaining. Agnes had gone far beyond her in 
 thoughtfulness for others. 
 
 "We have settled everybody's fate but Luella's," she
 
 IN A STRAIT BETWIXT TWO. 83 
 
 remarked, presently. "Agnes, tell me what I had better 
 do. I have promised her a silk frock, and I shall not 
 give her one of my old ones," laughingly. 
 
 "So long as you don't encourage any of her wild 
 vagaries and leave her just where she is, I think she will 
 come to some common sense. There are not many 
 chances in life like yours, but she has an idea that one 
 has only to go and ask for a thing. I am sure you tried 
 quite a long while." 
 
 "And had a great many hours of discouragement. 
 There are so many people for each place. But — you do 
 not think — she may marry? " 
 
 " O, that is mamma's nonsense. She sees with the 
 eye of faith a possible lover in every young man. Lu 
 isn't sentimental. None of us are." 
 
 There was a great deal of nonsense masquerading un- 
 der the name of sentiment, Gertrude knew. There 
 were foolish girls who thought they could not live with- 
 out the regard of some especial man. But still, there 
 was a very sacred love. Was everybody capable of it ? 
 Agnes deserved it for her unselfishness, her care for 
 every one's welfare. 
 
 " At least," thought Gertrude, " I can give her a truer 
 appreciation than ever before." She was touched by a 
 new humility, a tenderness she had not known in the 
 past. 
 
 Yet she was not sorry when the summons came for her 
 to join Mrs. Townsend. Not that the days had been ab- 
 solutely tiresome, and she had found many things to do 
 for them all. But the round was small, the life narrow. 
 
 "I shall miss you so much," Agnes said. "But the 
 letters will begin again. Yes," with a sudden brightness, 
 " I think it is a good thing that you should be out in the
 
 84 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 world, gathering up treasures for us. You know now 
 they are not wasted." 
 
 She would never feel so again. She began to see that 
 there were duties beside sending money home now and 
 then and thinking all the rest of life belonged to herself. 
 
 There had been a curious little fear lest she should 
 hear again from Sherburne Beaumanoir. He was im- 
 pulsive and considered his own pleasures, and was quite 
 used to taking the enjoyment even if he went a little out 
 of his way to do it, and trenched on that of another. 
 
 There had been a very joyous time at Sherburne over 
 him, a kind of feast with the families gathered in as far 
 as they could. But ah, how they had strayed off. 
 Beaumanoir was a rather lonely place now with no young 
 life gladdening, making merry, and sometimes bringing 
 sorrow. Even the sorrows and anxieties were sweet re- 
 membrances to the two old people who had a great deal 
 of time to gather up the olden threads and weave anew 
 the various patterns of life. 
 
 Yet they felt they had been very happy in their chil- 
 dren. Judge Beaumanoir coming to a ripe busy middle 
 life, much more ambitious for honors than in early man- 
 hood. Was it not true that children spurred one on ? 
 Millicent and Violet in lovely homes of their own, Fanny 
 and Doctor Underwood near by and a continual source 
 of interest, Edward really renewing his youth in the ease 
 and content of his second marriage, Cecil in Russia. 
 And there was Lyndell Carew, as dear as any of them, 
 and Doctor Carew like another son. 
 
 After a brief glimpse at home and a warm welcome 
 from their father, the Baltimore cousins had come to 
 Sherburne. Princess was the envy of the girls about, 
 she had so many cavaliers, but she was very generous
 
 IN A STRAIT BETWIXT TWO. 85 
 
 with them. Sherburne was her choicest possession just 
 now ; they had the arrears of two years to make up. But 
 Bertram was shooting up into a tall boy and would go to 
 college next year. 
 
 Professor Kenneth had promised them a week. 
 
 "Maybe you won't like him just at first," explained 
 Bertram, "but he knows so much and is so interested in 
 everything. We did have such a delightful time with 
 him on the island." 
 
 "Isn't he rather sweet on that Miss Ensign, Princess? 
 And how charming Mrs. Kenneth is. Of course she 
 would be very likely to chose her brother's wife " 
 
 "He doesn't want any wife," interposed Bertram, 
 eagerly. " He is just splendid as he is. There ought to 
 be some men left for the boys. Ruth Ensign is well 
 enough, but I liked Gertie Maurice ever so much 
 better. She was lots of fun ! Did you like her just as 
 well, Princess, or has traveling about the world spoiled 
 her?" 
 
 " No, she isn't spoiled. And she keeps a warm re- 
 membrance of last summer. I think she has grown 
 prettier." 
 
 "Some girls really need to grow prettier," declared 
 astute seventeen, "but she is so bright you never think 
 whether she is pretty or not." 
 
 "She has grown more dignified." 
 
 "I wish you had asked her down here. I think she 
 would have thrown dignity to the winds. She was al- 
 ways so ready to do anything." 
 
 "Is it too late now? " asked Sherburne. 
 
 "It is too early," said Princess, with a little unwil- 
 lingness she did not understand herself. " She is to go 
 home as soon as Mrs. Townsend can spare her. And
 
 86 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 when she has not been home for almost a year she must 
 be anxious to see her people. I suppose her vacation 
 depends on Mrs. Townsend's need of her." 
 
 "Anyhow, we want the professor first." 
 
 Princess had found it delightful to be welcomed home 
 by a wide circle. Grandmamma and everybody took it 
 for granted that her school days were over. And she 
 had resolved to go to college. There was so much she 
 still wanted to learn. 
 
 Ray had come with her. Violet Osborne had gone 
 with the Amorys to their cottage at Atlantic City, where 
 they hoped to gather most of the cousins in August. 
 
 "I do not see any need of a college course for you," 
 the judge had said, kindly, to his sweet, youthful daugh- 
 ter. " You will not teach — there are enough women in 
 the world who must do something, and those who are 
 not compelled to enter the ranks ought to give the oppor- 
 tunity to their less favored sisters. Your mother and I 
 want you at home — a few years at least," smiling rather 
 mysteriously. 
 
 Could she give up her dream and be happy ? 
 
 ' ' There are the two boys to look after, and then — three 
 more. It will quite shake my purse," he said, humor- 
 ously. 
 
 The first three children had trodden closely upon each 
 other, but the others at wider intervals. There were two 
 girls and then Lawrence, much younger. There were 
 times when Tessy Beaumanoir felt lonely without a baby 
 in the house, and was almost sorry to think of coming 
 manhood and womanhood. 
 
 Yes, Princess understood, and she was one to accept 
 without much friction. She was needed at home. She 
 had duties as a daughter. And when she thought it over
 
 IN A STRAIT BETWIXT TWO. 87 
 
 seriously it was not so much from a desire to make a 
 place for herself, as a hunger for knowledge. 
 
 Her mother was so glad to get her at home once more, 
 and did need her in the entertainment of guests, for 
 Sherburne House was hospitable to the last degree. Had 
 she not a duty here ? It seemed to her everything so far 
 had been pleasure even when she called them duties. 
 Was she to take all the agreeable things with a joy diffus- 
 ing satisfaction, and draw back when her will and de- 
 sires were crossed ? Was it really for ambition's sake ? 
 
 And how cheerfully Ray Stanwood was accepting the 
 new life planned out for her ! The care of her grand- 
 mother, and the supervision of her father's house. True 
 she would have many advantages of society, and there 
 would be the Amorys at hand. But was there not some- 
 thing finer than mere duty in it ? 
 
 After all, could not duty be made high and fine and 
 sweet, a thing one took up with gladness ? For when 
 you came to think, a great deal of life was duty one 
 owed to parents and friends, to the world. When there 
 was a choice between two things there could be an elec- 
 tion. 
 
 Then she came to know of a disappointment laid upon 
 her father, and resolved at once that she would not add 
 anything to his dissatisfaction. She would give up cheer- 
 fully with no longing. She would make herself happy in 
 her work here. 
 
 Doctor Carew had written a most kindly and solicitous 
 letter to the judge after several talks with Sherburne about 
 his future profession. 
 
 "We must not have Leonard think we have overper- 
 suaded," Lyndell said. 
 
 " My persuasions have been mostly of the other way,"
 
 88 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Carew said, with a deflection of the brows that was 
 more uncertainty than vexation. "I can see the pride 
 Leonard would take in a son who was following in his 
 footsteps. And whether Sherburne would be satisfied 
 with the life that looks so attractive to him now " 
 
 " O dear ! " and Dell made a pretty dainty moue that 
 accorded well with the motion of the shoulders, " it will be 
 our turn next to consider what is to be done with our 
 children. I am frightened when I think how the years 
 fly." 
 
 " We have had great comfort and delight in them, my 
 dear wife; " and he placed his hand caressingly over her 
 shoulder. 
 
 "But we shall have a double portion, for the twins 
 will be grown up at the same time. Only the girls do 
 seem to get ahead of the boys." 
 
 "The refining process begins a little sooner." 
 
 "Go and write your letter," the wife said with pretty 
 peremptoriness. 
 
 The letter had given Judge Beaumanoir a heartache. 
 Not altogether because his son's path was likely to 
 diverge, but that so far he made no further mention of 
 any decision since he had changed his mind about a lit- 
 erary professorship some months before. It pained him 
 not to be first in his son's confidence. He would have 
 felt angry if it had been any other man than Doctor Carew. 
 
 But Sherburne was having the best of good times. 
 Everybody gave him a warm welcome, had lawn tennis 
 parties, teas, dances, picnics, sails. Bertram was a great 
 favorite as well. And when the two cousins came 
 they almost ran into dissipation. The flavor of simple 
 pleasure was not spoiled by deep-laid plans and enticing 
 wiles to catch husbands.
 
 IN A STRAIT BETWIXT TWO. 89 
 
 "O dear ! " and Bertram holding a letter in his hand 
 indulged in the luxury of a most woe-begone expression. 
 "What do you think has happened, or is going to hap- 
 pen ? ' ' 
 
 "Until it does happen do not despair," said Ray, 
 sententiously. 
 
 "But it has happened, or the first part of it. The 
 professor cannot come. He was to go to Labrador and 
 the Commission has been ordered away a fortnight earlier 
 than he expected. And now he has just been settling 
 Mrs. Kenneth for the summer. O Ray, you ought to 
 read what he says about Ruth Ensign, here — turning 
 over a leaf. I suppose she is wonderfully nice and all 
 that, but we've known so many nice girls, we have them 
 of our own;" and he laughed mischievously. "That 
 doesn't make up for my disappointment." 
 
 Ray colored at the praise for her kindly discrimination 
 in choosing Ruth. As soon as Mrs. Kenneth was really 
 settled and rested, she should write Ray a good long let- 
 ter of gratitude for giving her a new daughter. 
 
 "O, you can both read it all. I do believe the pro- 
 fessor is very much disappointed for he wanted to see 
 Sherburne House and Beaumanoir. But he thinks we 
 have so many young people." 
 
 It was quite a chatty letter, adapted to a boy's com- 
 prehension, and indulging in quiet bits of fun by way 
 of comfort. They would hardly miss him just now, and 
 if all should prove agreeable he would try to be there 
 early in September, and Bertram could come up with 
 him. 
 
 "I do not deserve quite so much credit about Ruth," 
 said Ray, with a soft flush. " It was just a thought, and 
 yet I couldn't help thinking that I should like to fill the
 
 90 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 place if I had been — without a home. Mrs. Kenneth 
 and Margaret were so utterly lovely through my illness. 
 O, I do wonder if Margaret will ever be jealous ! " 
 
 "She has her husband. She could not devote herself 
 entirely to her mother." 
 
 "And — somehow, Princess, I can't help feeling that in 
 the end the professor will marry Ruth." Ray said this 
 for her own comfort and strengthening. She had been 
 made aware during her convalescence the year before 
 how very easy it would be to love him, but friendly as he 
 had been there was no peculiar sentiment in his regard. 
 But he would see Ruth so often. 
 
 "Well — why not? Only — she seems so young." 
 
 " About our age. And she will have quite a little for- 
 tune. She will be like another daughter to Mrs. Ken- 
 neth." 
 
 Princess colored suddenly in spite of her effort. 
 
 "Princess dear," putting her arm about her cousin's 
 waist — "are you sorry I spoke of Ruth? She was so 
 anxious to do something that would give her a home 
 until she saw her way a little clearer. And it would 
 have been no use to try to live with her grandmother. 
 Even the doctor protested against that. And Mrs. Ken- 
 neth wanted some young person ' ' 
 
 " O, no, no ! " cried Princess, eagerly. " We have so 
 much love we need not grudge Ruth that, even if we are 
 rather jealous and want Mrs. Kenneth's regard," smiling 
 a little out of frank and tender eyes. 
 
 Ray smiled, too. " And whatever happens will be a 
 lovely thing for both of them," she said, proud of herself 
 that she had crowded down some faintly jealous feeling. 
 Even if any one asked her in marriage, and she had a 
 premonition that no one ever would, she must fulfil the
 
 IN A STRAIT BETWIXT TWO. 91 
 
 duty made so plain to the two who had been glad and 
 thankful to have her. 
 
 There was a call for the girls, and some new pleasure 
 on hand. Sherburne seemed to think they must always 
 be ready for any turn of fancy, and if ever there was a 
 slight protest he said pathetically — "And when I have 
 been away two whole years," which would have con- 
 quered the most obdurate girl. 
 
 They went over to the river for a row down to one of 
 the islands, and on the way they picked up a few more to 
 join them in a merry time. Princess sang for them, 
 helped get the picnic dinner and was the brightest in re- 
 membering quotations from Shakespeare to grace the 
 feast. 
 
 Yet through it all her heart was heavy. Some special 
 brightness seemed gone out of the sun, though it shone 
 over the long reaches of field and quivered about the 
 woodlands. Now and then she lost what some one said 
 as her thoughts wandered a little. What had happened 
 to her ! 
 
 "You look tired," said her mother, tenderly, patting 
 the soft cheek and kissing the cool brow. "To-morrow 
 must be rest day — the boys shall not take you out any- 
 where." 
 
 " I am a little tired," Princess admitted. 
 
 "And next week you are all to go to Atlantic City, 
 when there will be more dissipation. You must be fresh 
 for that." 
 
 Sherburne decided to go to Baltimore with his cousins. 
 Another little plan he did not consider necessary to con- 
 fide to any one. 
 
 "Sherburne," his father said, as they sat out on the 
 piazza the last evening, "it is almost time to consider
 
 92 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 plans for the future, if you have anything beyond vague 
 ideas. It is time you settled to some permanency." 
 
 "I think I have about settled. I was talking with 
 Uncle Bertram while I was in New York " 
 
 Judge Beaumanoir kept silent. Sherburne was a little 
 embarrassed. He had promised the doctor he would 
 consult his father at the earliest opportunity, but some- 
 thing was always happening. 
 
 "I think I shall take up medicine. Dr. Underwood 
 and Dr. Carew set one a fine example. I concluded I 
 wanted something with a wider scope than a professor's 
 chair, something that brings me nearer in touch with 
 real people. I hope you don't object? " when he waited 
 a moment or two for his father's comment. 
 
 " I should not object to any course into which you put 
 your whole heart and soul, and that was best calculated 
 to develop your highest possibilities. Still, I confess 
 frankly I had hoped " 
 
 Sherburne was playing with the little spaniel who sud- 
 denly bounced down the steps and uttered a sharp yelp, 
 and he rushed to pick it up. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," as he glanced at his father's 
 grave face. " I am afraid the law hasn't quite the right 
 scope for me. And I am sorry if you — but you certainly 
 can't have any objections, if — if it isn't quite what you 
 had hoped," with the confident ring of youth in his 
 voice. 
 
 "I shall not object if you are in earnest, and choose 
 from firm convictions," was the grave reply. 
 
 " It is a noble profession." 
 
 ' ' When nobly carried out — yes. Yet it seems to me 
 there is as much call for noble minds in building up the 
 walls of justice and probity, and quite as high problems
 
 IN A STRAIT BETWIXT TWO. 93 
 
 to solve in law. It leads to some of the best positions, 
 some of the greatest honors, and though it may be used 
 for perverted ends, a man can be as upright in this walk 
 as in any other. I hoped some son of mine would take 
 up my work when I was ready to lay it down. He would 
 have the prestige of an honorable name, and step into an 
 enviable connection. I can see that Bertram's heart is 
 elsewhere ' ' 
 
 There was little Larry left, but it would be years before 
 he could make any election. 
 
 "I am sorry we can't look at the matter alike," the 
 young fellow said, in a softened tone that he meant for 
 partial regret. " It isn't altogether a new thought with 
 me." 
 
 The father sighed regretfully. It had been quite a 
 dream of late that he and his son would work on the 
 same lines. The companionship would have been so 
 grateful, so cheering. But he could not insist or force 
 his inclinations. 
 
 "You will find a good deal of detail and drudgery. 
 And it is not given to every man to come up with such 
 bounds as Doctor Carew. Do not look at his career and 
 idealize too much, but make up your mind to good, 
 hard, solid work." 
 
 " O the work doesn't frighten me. Uncle Bertram 
 said I must discuss the matter with you, but I told him I 
 knew you would consent to whatever I had set my heart 
 upon." 
 
 Had youth any deep seriousness of purpose? He 
 looked at his gay, handsome son as he sat there on the 
 step, thrown up clearly by the long ray of lamplight 
 streaming from the window, and it brought back the re- 
 membrance of his own careless youth, of the follies even
 
 94 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 of his two years of invalidism, his headstrong perversity, 
 his love of his own will and pleasure. So far, though 
 Sherburne had been rather extravagant, he had committed 
 no overt act of folly. Surely he could trust him to Ber- 
 tram Carew and his dear Cousin Dell, who had really 
 been one of the good angels of his life, the other being 
 his beloved helpmeet, whose trust he had never for an 
 instant betrayed. 
 
 But he had built up a fine reputation, and he would 
 have been glad for his son to come after him and reap its 
 advantages. Yet he said graciously : 
 
 " Whatever you feel equal to, that is the right thing 
 for you to undertake." 
 
 Then he went in for comfort to the sweet wife of his 
 youth.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ACCEPTANCE. 
 
 'TpHE consciousness that was a long time coming to 
 -*- Princess Beaumanoir, that filled her at first with 
 incredulity, and later with a protest in which was a deli- 
 cate half shame, stole over her at last with a convincing 
 force. All the year she had been dreaming of some one's 
 commendation. She had been striving to reach heights 
 that he had approved and thought worthy of one's best 
 and truest aim. Was it not to come nearer to his fine 
 standard that she had wanted to go on in the ways of 
 fascinating knowledge ? 
 
 She had been more disappointed than she would have 
 cared to own, than she could have owned to any human 
 being, when Professor Kenneth's visit had been delayed. 
 There had been so few crosses in her young life, every 
 thing had gone smoothly, joyously, and at first she felt 
 bewildered, almost indignant that any one should suppose 
 the grave self-centred man deep in the beginnings of the 
 world's history should stop to care for any girl. But 
 Aunt Millicent had suggested it a year ago, and after all, 
 what more natural than that it should be Ruth Ensign ? 
 He had seen so much of her this summer. And Mrs. 
 Kenneth was very fond of her. She just fitted into the 
 place, which must have been made hers from the begin- 
 ning. 
 
 Everybody thought so, it seemed. Grown-up eyes 
 
 95
 
 96 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 must be wiser, eyes that had not lost themselves in the 
 fascinating radiance of dreams, could see more clearly. 
 She had been half asleep in the enchanted land of pos- 
 sibility, and now she roused herself with a resolute shake. 
 She could almost wish she were Bertram, going to see 
 him every day, to study, to be helped onward in the 
 attractive realm of knowledge. She could spend even- 
 ings then Avith Mrs. Kenneth and watch happy Ruth, 
 sweet and smiling— any girl must be proud and happy 
 whom the professor loved. 
 
 For herself, she had made a mistake and almost fallen 
 to coveting what was her neighbor's. But it was a thing 
 one could live over, put away with swift hands like any 
 other temptation. She was too healthy toned to brood 
 over such a thing, once convinced. 
 
 If she needed any other tonic draught she had it in 
 Ruth's letter. They had not gone far away this time, 
 to a pretty little settlement on the ocean side of Long 
 Island, a great, old-fashioned, roomy house, where Mr. 
 and Mrs. Drayton and the two children would come 
 presently and Mrs. Mallory with her two. The Carews 
 were to take a yachting tour up to Newfoundland ; two 
 of the children had been rather ailing and the doctor 
 very tired out. Of course Princess had heard all this 
 news at first hand. 
 
 There had been some lovely letters from Mrs. Phillips, 
 who was very happy. And Professor Kenneth had stayed 
 three days getting them settled, as he had to go to Lab- 
 rador sooner than he expected. They had been out row- 
 ing one day and were caught in a shower, but she had 
 not felt afraid, and though it was rough it was grand as 
 well. He had brought them a plentiful supply of books, 
 and he would come to them at once on his return. Life
 
 ACCEPTANCE. 97 
 
 was so glad and full that sometimes she was afraid she 
 had more than her share. 
 
 All that God sent was her share. There had been 
 many dark days in her eighteen years. Now the sun- 
 shine and smiling skies had come, and Princess was glad 
 for her friend. She would never envy her again. 
 
 They had a gay, happy time in the city by the sea, 
 when the cousins were all together. They sailed, they 
 promenaded, they made sketches, they danced in the 
 evening and older people looked on and wondered if they 
 had ever had such a good time in their youth. 
 
 Sherburne Beaumanoir was a trifle annoyed by Miss 
 Maurice's answer to his note. It was not curt, rather too 
 business-like and evasive. After that he dared not take 
 in the little town, for he was a gentleman. 
 
 He was lounging on the sands one afternoon beside 
 Princess, to whom he had just brought a handful of 
 letters. 
 
 "This is from Ruth," she said. "And O, this is 
 from Kitty Saxon." 
 
 "And is there one from the other girl — that came to 
 your luncheon in New York?" asked the deceitful young 
 man, in his most indifferent tone. 
 
 " Miss Maurice? No. She is a queer correspondent. 
 She did write me one letter a day or two after she went 
 home. O, I believe I have not answered it." 
 
 " You naughty girl ! What is her home like ? " 
 
 "They live in an old, old house that belonged to her 
 mother's father " 
 
 " Then she had a grandfather ? " 
 
 " O yes. They are old Delaware people. You know 
 there are a great many nice, comparatively poor people 
 scattered about the world,"
 
 98 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " Yes, my dear young mentor. But her folks were 
 able to send her to school with the aristocracy, it seems." 
 
 " The way it came was this. I suppose I may tell over 
 the story, since she did not make any secret of it. I think 
 she is very honest. And it was delightful that she should 
 meet Mrs. Townsend." 
 
 Sherburne was much interested in the school episode 
 and the marriage of her sister. 
 
 " I suppose the home isn't " 
 
 " Things go at very loose ends, I fancy." 
 
 Princess colored a little, thinking of Uncle Con. That 
 was his secret, and she had no right to even suggest there 
 was a secret. 
 
 Sherburne comforted himself with the thought that 
 Miss Maurice had a good deal of pride and her home 
 was not quite what she would like to invite curious eyes 
 to inspect. But she need not have minded him. 
 
 " O, look at this," exclaimed Princess, a few days 
 later, holding a paper in her hand. "Mrs. Townsend 
 has gone to Chautauqua. She is to speak in two of the 
 courses. And I suppose Miss Maurice went with her." 
 
 Sherburne was devoted in an amusing fashion to Pearl 
 Amory, who was proud of her good-looking cousin. 
 
 Princess found Ned Beaumanoir very entertaining. 
 He could talk to one girl very well, and he knew so 
 many curious things, even if he did not shine in general 
 society. But Sherburne soon became a prime favorite, 
 and was in great demand among the girls outside of 
 cousinly lines. Bertram was hardly old enough to enjoy 
 the badinage, but he did like the sails and the rowing, 
 and the walks along the beach. He often coaxed Prin- 
 cess to accompany him. And he let her read the pro- 
 fessor's letters, which were full of entertainment.
 
 ACCEPTANCE. 99 
 
 " He seems just like another boy with you," said Prin- 
 cess, with a soft smile in her eyes. 
 
 " He is. A splendid, wise big boy that you can never 
 bother with questions. If he can't talk about the subject 
 just then, he gets you a book to read about it. I don't 
 see how he can remember so many things. And if I 
 wasn't myself and going up to Columbia College, and 
 had to be a girl, I'd just like to be Ruth Ensign." 
 
 Princess felt a sudden heat in her cheeks. 
 
 " Wasn't it queer that we should think him old up 
 there on Melchias island?" Then Bertram laughed. 
 "But I am glad I don't have to be a girl, though you 
 are so sweet, Princess. Boys have such jolly good times, 
 and they don't have to think about growing up and put- 
 ting on long gowns and doing their hair. And when 
 they are as large as Sher and can do as they like 
 
 " He hasn't all the rights. I believe you have to be 
 twenty-one to reach a state of independence." 
 
 "But papa doesn't decide for him any longer. Now 
 if he had thought /couldn't go to Columbia, I suppose 
 I must have given in " 
 
 Sherburne had not given in to his father's desires, 
 Princess remembered. She had hardly wanted to. And 
 just then she had a girlish idea that she ought to help 
 make up for the other disappointment. She had been 
 finding duties toward Bertram. And there were three 
 younger children. Surely there were duties enough. 
 
 Mrs. Osborne had decided to leave Violet for the win- 
 ter with her uncle and aunt. Even now Mr. Amory 
 gave her an hour's lesson every day in painting, and 
 not only that, but a walk and a talk about nature, and 
 the continual variations, the solemn beauty of the night, 
 the changeful brilliance of the day from glowing sunrise
 
 ioo THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 to golden sunset, the curves of the swelling and retreat- 
 ing sea with its crested foam or melancholy music of re- 
 gret growing fainter and fainter, the long stretches of 
 blue-grey expanse that met the curve of the other blue. 
 She had so many artistic thoughts, such vivid apprecia- 
 tion — if he could rouse in her the true artistic ambition ! 
 Could one so inspire a girl ? 
 
 For the girl's heart turned to fun and pleasure and 
 pretty gowns, and what Washington would be in the win- 
 ter and the dances and merrymaking. 
 
 "I'm glad I haven't any genius," Pearl Amory said, 
 frequently. " I shall not have to make efforts to reach 
 up to grand heights, but just sit gracefully and talk in my 
 most fascinating manner." 
 
 " And draw admirers to your feet. You do love to be 
 admired, Pearl." 
 
 " I am afraid I do," shaking her head in an expression 
 of assumed penitence, as if she were really confessing. " I 
 don't know why I shouldn't. I am human and can ap- 
 preciate it. What good does it do the sun if you go in 
 raptures over the sunset, and does old ocean ever stop 
 to thank you for all the sentiment wasted upon him. 
 He is like the rain, he falls on the just and unjust 
 alike, but what is worse he devours them without mercy, 
 while the rain only leaves them drenched and dripping. 
 And no matter what sonnets you may write in his honor, 
 or how exquisitely you may paint him, does he ever 
 thank you ? ' ' 
 
 The girls laughed. 
 
 "But I have heard that admiration was very bad for 
 girls," returned Violet, sententiously. 
 
 " Then you must not excel in painting, or you will 
 surely get a dose of it. Princess, if you are a college
 
 ACCEPTANCE. 101 
 
 girl some one will come along and admire your attain- 
 ments. Think of the snares and temptations that beset a 
 girl ! " 
 
 They did not lay it much to heart, however. They 
 were not quite full fledged society girls, and enjoyed the 
 delights with youthful zest. Having a train of boys of 
 their own they were quite independent. Mrs. Amory 
 was anxious to put off as long as possible the real en- 
 trance into young womanhood. 
 
 But the weeks passed rapidly. Mrs. Amory desired to 
 make a little visit at home, as Millicent and Mr. Drayton 
 were to come for a fortnight. It was always so pleasant 
 to meet in the dear old place that held so many tender 
 associations, though each year Millicent saw changes. 
 Her parents were quite elderly people. Leonard was 
 touching the borders of middle life. She herself was a 
 grandmother, which seemed very odd to her. For with 
 her two young children time seemed to have run back. 
 
 They all said — "If Dell were only here." They 
 talked of the years that had slipped by with few 
 changes, except the inevitable growth, the growing out of 
 babyhood for the children, the added years for those v/ho 
 were children only such a little while ago. 
 
 " Dell and the doctor have not taken a real journey to- 
 gether in a long while," said Leonard. "They have 
 been very busy people. I am glad they have had to en- 
 large their borders — get a new home that will give them 
 more room in which to enjoy things. And the children 
 are coming on apace. It seems natural for Dell to be 
 the mother of babies, but grown men and women ! " 
 
 " ' We have our day and cease to be,' " quoted Milli- 
 cent. "And the others take our places." 
 
 " I just wish Sherburne would take mine," said her
 
 102 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 brother, with a touch of disappointment. "If I didn't 
 know Bertram so well I should be almost jealous. And 
 he really advised against Sherburne's fancy. I do won- 
 der if the boy has any stability ? There are so many of you 
 in New York to make it delightful for him, there is so 
 much to see and hear. Well," with a sigh — "I remem- 
 ber when I was stirred with the inconsistencies of youth." 
 
 " He certainly will not go astray under the doctor's 
 fostering care," said Millicent. 
 
 " It isn't that. If I could trust him two years abroad, 
 I surely can trust him there. But it gives me a presenti- 
 ment that half of my life-work will be useless. I shall 
 have to wait years for another son to grow up." 
 
 Yes, the defection had gone deeply. Millicent felt 
 very sorry. 
 
 They had all been interested in Dell's new house that 
 had been talked of for several years, but the Carews had 
 not the courage to start until it had become a necessity, 
 until indeed they had outgrown the old one. There 
 were so many tender recollections about this one. Ber- 
 tram's pride in providing a home for his young wife when 
 he had almost urged her to give up her birthright, and 
 he was struggling up to eminence and corresponding for- 
 tune. It had seemed almost extravagant then ; but he 
 had been more than satisfied to do all for her, even if she 
 did not stand in need of his strenuous efforts. 
 
 There had been the journey through Europe made 
 doubly delightful by the enjoyment of his father and dear 
 Aunt Neale. The birth of the twins, the second home 
 coming, the widening sphere, baby Honor and Reese, 
 and after an interval little Florence who still held the 
 charm of childhood. Once Bertram had gone out to 
 California to inspect the philanthropic settlement that
 
 ACCEPTANCE. 103 
 
 had been such an interest to them all and was now a 
 pretty town with wise restrictions. They always talked 
 of other journeys they would make together when the 
 cares of a busy life should be relegated to other hands, 
 and the children a little more grown up. 
 
 The Draytons had been abroad for a year, and come 
 home with the freshened atmosphere, full of the wonder- 
 ful changes there as well as at home. But life had seemed 
 so rich, they had no lack of enjoyment, hardly indeed 
 time to enjoy the feast spread out on every side. 
 
 In the spring the new house had materialized. The 
 trend was further up town. Business and crowded apart- 
 ment houses had rendered the neighborhood less desir- 
 able. And up here on the high ground one had the 
 prospect of the river and the dusky hills on the other 
 shore, with their wooded slopes and pretty towns half 
 hidden in greenery. The park would be below them 
 now. All around was refinement and quiet. 
 
 And now there would be room for the two boys, 
 whose loss in the home was just beginning to be appre- 
 ciated. School and university had been borne with 
 equanimity, but this would cause more of a pang. 
 
 "Still, I am glad Dell will be like a mother to them," 
 Tessy said, consolingly. 
 
 Bertram came in with a letter one morning. 
 
 "Professor Kenneth has returned to the city," he 
 announced. " He is going out to get Mrs. Kenneth and 
 Ruth, then he comes to some kind of a meeting in Balti- 
 more, and runs down here, and will take me back with 
 him. And what do you think — " the words tumbling 
 over each other — "Mrs. Kenneth has asked that I may 
 spend a week with her and the professor. He wants to 
 be quite sure that I shall stand well with my classes."
 
 104 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "She is very good," said his mother. "Only she is 
 not much used to big boys " 
 
 " But she's used to the professor." 
 
 " He is such a quiet gentleman." 
 
 " Well, I'm not noisy when I am lost in a book," 
 protested the boy, laughingly. " Of course when I am 
 out of doors — but there is no out of doors in New York 
 except parks, and there they don't allow you to ' make the 
 welkin ring.' Princess, I know you'll envy me Mrs. 
 Kenneth, and maybe Ruth." 
 
 "I am not going to envy any one," the girl returned, 
 cheerfully. 
 
 A few days later she had a letter from Ruth Ensign. 
 The weeks had been delightful, and Mrs. Kenneth had 
 improved wonderfully. She talked of making a journey 
 to Sherburne House in the winter, and she, Ruth, would 
 be gratified beyond measure to see the place that had 
 been the centre of so many joys and romances. They 
 would have several days with the professor, whose trip 
 had not been all rest, and then he would take them up 
 home and get them settled before the real work of life began. 
 
 "Can you ever imagine what all this is to me," wrote 
 Ruth. " It was delightful at school with you all, and 
 that lovely summer I can never forget. I think I came 
 near to envying the girls with such mothers as you all 
 had. For my own dear mamma and I had led such a 
 cramped and starved life that though love kept alive, it 
 hardly had a chance to grow, but was like the poor pale 
 grass that comes up between stones in the shade. O, 
 how can any one crush out all the joy and blessedness 
 for the sake of hoarding money ! Sometimes, Princess, 
 I am so sorry for poor grandmother, that it seems as if I 
 ought to fly to her and devote my life to her, but she has
 
 ACCEPTANCE. 105 
 
 never loved me, for she was angry when papa married, 
 and stormed when I was born. I know it would do no 
 good, and that she thinks more of my earning a little 
 money than all the care I could give her. And Mrs. 
 Kenneth is so gracious and sweet that I couldn't help 
 loving her even if I wanted to. And she is quite sure 
 she will want me to go on and on — what do you think 
 she said a few days ago ? until I was married ! I suppose 
 it would be delightful to have a home of one's very own, 
 but I have a feeling that I should like to have Mrs. 
 Kenneth in it. Sometimes I dream of such lovely 
 things that I am almost frightened. Yet the wildest 
 things do sometimes come true." 
 
 Princess could guess what the dream was. Did not 
 every girl have thoughts of a home of her own ? She 
 would no doubt have it some day. 
 
 Years hence ; — she owed her mother a loving duty, and 
 now that Sherburne had in some degree disappointed her 
 father, he would need her daughterly consideration. 
 Would it really benefit her to go to college ? She knew 
 her parents were not in favor of it. She could diffuse 
 more real happiness by staying at home these few years, 
 and then she could look out at life more clearly, and un- 
 derstand her own needs. 
 
 She saw how it would be with Ruth. There was a 
 little pang, but she had father, mother, and home, while 
 Ruth had never known a happy home until now. It 
 would be sinful to envy her anything. 
 
 So Princess Beaumanoir took up the duty that lay be- 
 fore her, and tried to put every feeling of sacrifice out of 
 her mind. What was she sacrificing, really ? For if she 
 wanted to excel in anything, there was her music. She 
 could give a great deal of pleasure with that.
 
 io6 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Ray had gone to Washington. They were to have a 
 pretty cottage quite in the suburbs, and her father wanted 
 her opinion on a good many things, it seemed. He was so 
 glad to have his daughter. And Aunt Violet had prom- 
 ised to look after her pleasures. 
 
 " I find I am to be quite head of the house," she wrote 
 to Princess. " Grandmamma gives up in a sweet old 
 lady way, and declares the house is mine and papa's. 
 We have such a nice middle-aged woman and her son, 
 a young lad of sixteen or so, who is a little lame, but 
 very willing and obliging and handy as a girl. Indeed, 
 his mother treats him almost like a girl. Grandmamma's 
 room and mine connect, and the doors are open nearly 
 all the time. O, I wonder if I am too happy ? I have 
 learned so many lessons the past year, and so many 
 lovely things that seem to frame in the days as if they were 
 pictures. Is it because I have found the true work of 
 my life?" 
 
 Princess read the letter to her mother. 
 
 "It is so curiously joyous for Ray. After that summer 
 of tragedy I was afraid she would never be light-hearted 
 again." 
 
 "Ray has had many sad things in her life." 
 
 " And mamma, I have never had one real care." 
 
 Princess looked up with a smile, her eyes soft and 
 shining. 
 
 " My darling, I hope you never will have many. I 
 suppose very few lives are entirely exempt. I have had 
 very few, and a great deal of happiness. ' ' 
 
 Leonard had called his second girl Lyndell Sherburne, 
 and the last-born after his favorite sister. 
 
 " There will be Dells and Millicents to the end of 
 time," Lyndell Carew said, in a tone of bright amuse-
 
 ACCEPTANCE. 107 
 
 ment, but she was glad to be remembered for her own 
 self. 
 
 Dell was fourteen now, almost as tall as Princess, which 
 was not saying much, and growing so fast that she would 
 soon overtop her. There had been a governess for the 
 three younger children, but she was married in the sum- 
 mer. Dell was too young to be sent to school, the boy 
 would go in to Ardmore and be with other boys. He 
 was copying his big brothers too much, his father said. 
 
 "But there will be no big brothers for a long while," 
 said the little mother with a sigh. " A week or so at 
 Christmas, and then nothing until next summer." 
 
 " I am almost angry with Sherburne. The fellow has 
 such a fine logical mind. I was struck with the way he 
 was arguing the other evening. And he is not a born 
 doctor." 
 
 "But the association with Doctor Carew — who cer- 
 tainly was born for the science of medicine — "wistfully 
 and with a mother's hope. 
 
 " And Doctor Underwood." Then the judge laughed. 
 "I'm not sure but Fanny has the pick of husbands after 
 all. And medicine like theology, to be taken in the 
 right way, needs enthusiasm, belief, purpose. There are 
 plenty of indifferent clergymen and doctors, but I want 
 Sherburne to stand at the head. Bert will write books 
 some day and lecture and pick out the beginnings of 
 things from the time when the earth was without form and 
 void." 
 
 "Remember that Sherburne is still very young," said 
 the little mother with tender persuasiveness. 
 
 " And look back at my own indolent self-willed youth ! 
 But I did one grand thing — gave them the mother they 
 have," and he kissed his wife tenderly.
 
 108 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "I am going over for the professor," Bert said the 
 next morning. " If you and Dell can go I will order 
 the big carriage." 
 
 " Yes, I have a little errand at Aunt Fanny's. I will 
 stop there while you go over to the station." 
 
 " It looks more welcome-y," and Bert laughed. " Sher 
 won't be home until dinner time, and papa has an 
 opinion to make out. How he can make it out of whole 
 cloth " 
 
 " You will understand presently." 
 
 " O, we always have something to go on," returned 
 the boy loftily. 
 
 Tessy kissed the sweet, grave face. How strange to 
 see romances in the far future for her children, who were 
 a crowd of babies only a little while ago!
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 GETTING SETTLED. 
 
 PROFESSOR KENNETH had gained a little in flesh 
 A and changed mysteriously. The near-sightedness 
 seemed at a first glance the strongest link to connect him 
 with the grave man they had met at Melchias island. He 
 reached over and took her hand. She was very quiet in 
 aspect and said they would all be glad to see him, and 
 took her seat behind her brother. 
 
 " I half mistook this young lady for you," he began. 
 " She was such a little girl a year ago." 
 
 "But I remembered him," said Dell, triumphantly, 
 " though he isn't so thin. When you lived with the 
 Esquimos " 
 
 She stopped and turned very red. 
 
 • ' Did you want to know if he ate blubber ? ' ' asked 
 Bertram. 
 
 " No, I never had the courage to undertake that, 
 though on a few of our outings we ran short of food and 
 went hungry for awhile." 
 
 "Was it awfully cold?" 
 
 "Not as cold as it will be in winter. We did not go 
 quite up to Hudson's bay." 
 
 "O, I do wonder if I can go somewhere next sum- 
 mer ? " exclaimed Bert, longingly. " Did you ever want 
 to go on a North Pole expedition ? " 
 
 " I have not had any longing that way yet. I must 
 109
 
 no THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 confess I am not an intrepid explorer. There are so 
 many near-by things I have not half exhausted." 
 
 "I suppose Mrs. Kenneth is settled again," Princess 
 said in the pause, while Bertram had wandered in mind 
 to the open polar sea. 
 
 " Yes, we have the same apartment. It was all put in 
 order and Mrs. Drayton had secured a competent servant, 
 so we went to living at once. Long Island seemed bet- 
 ter than Maine for Mrs. Kenneth. She has improved 
 wonderfully, although I think Margaret's happiness had 
 something to do with it. For a year or so she had been 
 making up her mind to give up her daughter and not 
 mar her loveliest years. Then she learned there were 
 other sweet willing girls in the world. Ruth is like 
 another daughter. I sometimes wonder how she will 
 part with her. But then Margaret will be home." 
 
 It was all planned out. Princess must learn to be glad 
 for Ruth. Her life had always been rich and delightful 
 with love, Ruth's dreary with covetousness and hatred. 
 
 It was a lovely day and the drive inspiriting. The 
 professor noted the grand old trees, the profusion of the 
 clinging vines and the flowers. And there was the old 
 house he had heard so much about, where he was given a 
 cordial welcome. 
 
 Of course Bertram took possession of him. He had 
 so many things to tell him, so much to show him, and he 
 felt somehow that he had the first claim. Two or three 
 girl friends came over to take tea with Princess and learn a 
 little about lawn tennis, so she was quite engrossed. Sher- 
 burne returned with a friend, and the evening was spent 
 out on the wide porch. Princess seemed to shelter her- 
 self under her mother's wing, had she some vague pre- 
 sentiment, the mother wondered.
 
 GETTING SETTLED. in 
 
 She settled it for herself that night. The wide full- 
 moon made a silver shower in her room. Sometimes she 
 shut it out ; to-night she was not sleepy and she liked 
 the company. It was almost like the finest human sym- 
 pathy. 
 
 It was not at all unlikely that many girls had an ideal 
 in youth and were strongly attracted. Mamma said she 
 had never cared for any one until papa came. But he 
 was such a handsome young man, and he was Auntie Dell's 
 dearest friend. Aunt Fanny laughed about trying on 
 loves, and papa said Aunt Fanny had been a sad flirt, but 
 she did love Doctor Underwood, and Princess thought 
 him very fascinating, though he teased a good deal. 
 
 And she was still so young. There would be a great 
 deal to do with her life. She could wait the few years 
 until some one came to claim it and ask her to make a 
 new home with him. She would not even dream of a 
 "might have been"; it would not be fair to the man 
 who would come presently, to remember she had allowed 
 herself to dream vain and envious dreams. She must 
 keep a pure white soul until that day. 
 
 They were over to Beaumanoir at luncheon the next 
 day and the professor was very much interested in the 
 charming old people who were living their young life over 
 in their children and their children's children. Then 
 Doctor Underwood dropped in and insisted they should 
 take supper with him. These people were so delightfully 
 hospitable. And to-morrow he must visit the hospital, 
 which was really a flourishing institution. 
 
 Professor Kenneth had been to the northward and 
 westward, and gone down the Mississippi, but this was a 
 new region to him, and everything in the natural world 
 appealed to him. The manliness of Judge Beaumanoir
 
 U2 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 attracted him as well, and Sherburne's youth and bright- 
 ness was like the sunshine itself. How proud a man 
 must be of such a family ! New instincts and hopes 
 stirred his very soul. Science was not all. It was a 
 grand thing to be filled with the breath of human life. 
 
 He had spent the four days of his delightful stay, and 
 on the last night it was unsatisfactory to him. Had he 
 been so engrossed with books and studies and young men 
 that the other part of life, the art of winning love had 
 entirely escaped him ? Was he older than his years ? O, 
 how had he the temerity to dream of this young girl ! They 
 had seemed to come very near on the old island where 
 they first met ; even a few months ago the distance had 
 not appeared impassable, but now — what kept her so 
 far off? 
 
 And she was still so utterly sweet and lovely. Such a 
 winsome daughter, such a tender, ready sister with in- 
 finite patience and consideration. But he was afraid now 
 that he had not the divine art of winning love. What if he 
 should be called upon to lay aside the fascinating dream 
 and confine himself to science all the rest of his life ! O, 
 he could not without a bitter disappointment. The long- 
 ing had entered his life, and he did not want to thrust 
 it out. 
 
 Yet — he was older than his years — older in a woman's 
 sight, perhaps. He could be young with boys. Why he 
 had learned to be young with all that crowd of merry 
 boys and girls on Melchias island. 
 
 Had he any right to take this beautiful girl life out of 
 the garden of promise, where it could bloom abundantly 
 and bear choice fruit, and shut it in a narrow place ? He 
 had not thought of that before. Yes — it was selfish. 
 
 If he had known girls and women better, he would
 
 GETTING SETTLED. 113 
 
 have understood that love could transfigure any life when 
 it was elected king. But he had never speculated upon 
 it, and now he stood quite dismayed at his own temerity, 
 at his alluring dream. Even Mrs. Kenneth had said 
 months ago — " I don't see how you dared ! " They had 
 not reverted to it since. 
 
 Yet her mother surely had not thought it such an im- 
 possible thing or beyond the bounds of reason. Only 
 Princess had shrunk from any near approach on his part ; 
 she seemed to evade every opportunity of being alone 
 with him ; she had answered almost indifferently when 
 he suggested she should come up to New York with her 
 brothers. There had been no eager talk about knowledge 
 and improvement and all the world's richness standing 
 ready to be gathered by longing hands. She was the 
 sweet, winsome daughter and sister, but not even inspired 
 with the old friendliness. 
 
 Some other fond eyes had been watching Princess with 
 trembling, half-jealous scrutiny. The dainty reticence 
 and evasion of anything like a tete-a-tcte, the quiet aspect 
 of the girl surprised her mother. Was it that she was too 
 noble, too innately wise to foster a regard that could come 
 to nothing ? Was she so utterly fancy free ? And why 
 had she given up the college project so easily ? 
 
 Then Tessy recalled the fact that she and Cousin Ned 
 Beaumanoir had seemed wonderfully attracted toward 
 each other. Would that ripen into something deeper? 
 She sincerely hoped not, though she liked Ned very 
 much. Was it giving Princess that delicate self-appro- 
 priation that comes with the first dawning of preference 
 to every one but the coquette ? For it was plain to the 
 mother. 
 
 The luggage was all ready in the hall. Bert was im-
 
 ii 4 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 portant. Sherburne serene as befitted a young man to 
 whom traveling was no rarity and who had gone from 
 home on longer journeys. The judge was to bear them 
 company as far as Washington. The breakfast was early, 
 but Princess and her mother graced it. 
 
 The children came down and were running to and fro 
 with their good-bye kisses. Eric Kenneth envied the re- 
 cipients. How delightful to be set in a large family ! He 
 was going away with a heavy heart. 
 
 " These few days have been a great enjoyment to me," 
 he said, taking Mrs. Beaumanoir's hand. "You need 
 not fear but that I will look after Bertram quite as if he 
 were a younger brother. And if I have been foolish to 
 hope that so sweet a flower might bloom for me, it has at 
 least shed a fragrance on my life that I shall not willingly 
 let die out. I shall even cherish the mistake, and keep 
 her in my heart until some worthier man finds the royal 
 road to hers." 
 
 It was worth the confession to have the sweet mother 
 look of sympathy that softened her eyes like a mist of 
 tears. 
 
 " You take my sincere regard with you," she replied, 
 when she found her voice. 
 
 Then the carriage rolled away. She placed her arm 
 about her daughter's neck, but Princess stood rather stiff, 
 still looking out on the drive. 
 
 " How much we shall miss them ! " but the girl's voice 
 had a constrained sound. 
 
 "Yes," answered the mother, and they walked within, 
 Princess distant instead of desiring sympathy. 
 
 Two hours later Sam came bark with the mail. 
 
 Mrs. Beaumanoir glanced over her letters. A long 
 one from Lyndell Carew, one from her own sister, Den-
 
 GETTING SETTLED. 115 
 
 sie, a happy wife and mother, some invitations, and one 
 she read with a sense of disappointment. 
 
 "Just listen, Princess," she exclaimed. "Aunt Milly's 
 nice girl has had all her plans changed. Her mother is 
 going to marry — is married now, to an old friend who 
 is to take them both out to a Texas ranch. Her mother 
 would not go without her. But what are we to do for a 
 governess ? I was depending on her. I wonder if Aunt 
 Milly knows?" 
 
 " I dare say she is hunting up some one else to make 
 good the defection. We cannot quite blame the girl. I 
 have a fancy I should try to follow you." 
 
 Princess gave a soft laugh as she glanced up. 
 
 "Ono, I do not blame her. The man, the lover," 
 with a half smile, "came on quite unexpectedly." 
 
 " I shall have to play governess awhile. Why not all 
 the winter, mamma? It will keep me from getting 
 rusty." 
 
 " But you are to go to Washington and have a season 
 with Aunt Violet. And they will want you in New York. 
 Princess, you are to be a young lady and have a good 
 time with the other girls." 
 
 " Why not a good time at home ? " 
 
 She glanced up to meet her mother's eyes, but some 
 half enquiry in them caused hers to waver and droop. 
 
 They went about the day's occupations. Princess had 
 been teaching her sisters for the last fortnight. 
 
 They sauntered upstairs now to the little study room. 
 The house was very quiet. After an hour the children 
 were dismissed for a run. She had a letter to write to 
 Kitty Saxon, and before it was finished the lessons began 
 again. 
 
 There were but four of them to lunch. Aunt Fanny
 
 n6 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 came over to take Dell and Milly out with her two little 
 girls and keep them to tea. 
 
 " The doctor liked your friend so much," said Fanny. 
 1 ' He thinks Bertram is fortunate to be under his care. And 
 I suppose he will keep a kind of steady eye over Sher- 
 burne, who seems very fond of fun and frolic, and if it 
 didn't sound so wretched I should say females, for the 
 sake of the alliteration. Half the girls around here are 
 in love with him. It is fortunate for his peace of mind 
 that he has to get down to real study." 
 
 Tessy smiled, but did not reply. The children ran 
 out eagerly and called to the two cousins. Fanny chat- 
 tered a few moments longer and then went on with her 
 drive. She would have gone to the moon if she could, 
 for her children, and yet they were not spoiled enough 
 to be a trial. 
 
 It was still warm, and Tessy suggested they should 
 take their sewing out on the porch. Princess was em- 
 broidering some exquisite wild roses. 
 
 How quiet they were ! Princess had no tender confi- 
 dence for her mother, no sorrow that her soft tones could 
 heal. But she knew she had given something out of her 
 life, just as one cuts off the first bud of the rose. The 
 others might be larger and richer for it, but no one could 
 ever know what sweetness was infolded in the bud. 
 
 Some of the young people came over in the evening, 
 and they had music and talking ; but the chief plaint 
 was that Sherburne was gone. They should miss him so 
 everywhere. Why couldn't he stay and study with Doc- 
 tor Underwood ? 
 
 "There would be the lectures. And there was so 
 much going on in the city." 
 
 Princess kissed her mother good-night and went to her
 
 GETTING SETTLED. 117 
 
 room. The two candles on her table were lighted, the 
 curtains drawn. It was essentially a girl's room. She 
 took up her Imitation of Christ. 
 
 "Nothing is sweeter than love, nothing stronger, noth- 
 ing higher, nothing wider, nothing fuller or better in 
 heaven or earth." 
 
 The supreme comfort was that there were many kinds 
 of love. And if one gave away this precious thing ! 
 
 The boys went straight to Aunt Lyndell's; Mr. Ken- 
 neth to his sister's. The evening was a little cool and 
 there was a log fire in the sitting-room, a real cheerful 
 blaze ; and the lamp lighted under the kettle to make 
 him a cup of tea. He was being spoiled. And though 
 they sat there past midnight talking of the enjoyable 
 Virginian home and the people he had met, he had no 
 sweet hope to pour into her ear. She was too delicate to 
 question him. Had it all come to naught ? 
 
 But work began in earnest now. Bertram was eager 
 for it. Sherburne was at least interested. 
 
 Lyndell was engrossed in getting acquainted with the 
 new house, she told her husband, and the big children. 
 They seemed to have kept mysteriously small in the old 
 house, and now the twins were sixteen. Millicent, a fair, 
 rather shy, gentle girl, with soft dark eyes more like her 
 godmother's than her own mother's, Randolph, for though 
 he had his father's name also, they never called him by it, 
 but left it exclusively for Leonard's son. He was a bright, 
 laughing, heedless young fellow, who considered athletics 
 the great thing of life at this juncture. He could study, 
 but he was not fond of it, but he adored his father if he 
 did not take his counsels to heart. Honor, the second 
 girl, was like her mother, prettier than Dell had been in 
 childhood, a merry, charming girl, not quite fourteen,
 
 n8 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 but almost as tall as Millicent. Between Reese and Flor- 
 ence there had been several years, and she was rather 
 small of her age. 
 
 The house had been built to grow in, and now sud- 
 denly they had grown. What with the two additions, it 
 seemed to abound in boys. The third floor was devoted 
 to them, even Reese considered himself manly enough 
 not to have his mother watch over him, though he was a 
 little homesick at first, missing her mysterious mother 
 ministrations. He had grown quite accustomed to it on 
 the yacht, but it did not seem altogether the thing at 
 home. But then he was such a big boy ! 
 
 On one side of the hall the doctor had an office and 
 study, a commodious room that really showed some 
 empty book shelves. There was a drawing-room large 
 enough for a considerable company, a music-room and 
 conservatory. 
 
 Aunt Neale had grown very feeble with the advancing 
 years, but the doctor seemed robust enough to round out 
 a century. They had their two rooms over the study 
 and office, the other side being devoted to Dell and the 
 girls, with room for a girl guest when the cousins came. 
 
 "It is like beginning a new life," said Dell, with a 
 half sigh. "O, I wonder if there can be sixteen years 
 of pleasure and happiness and no sorrow to mar, like the 
 sixteen years that have past. It really seems as if no 
 one had had any serious misfortunes, except Cousin 
 Archie. But Ray is such a sweet affectionate girl, he will 
 take great pleasure with her." 
 
 "We have all been wonderfully blest. Like Job, we 
 have had sons and daughters, and prosperity, and 
 honors," with a twinkle in his eye. 
 
 " O, I wish you had not quoted Job."
 
 GETTING SETTLED. 119 
 
 "There is no room for superstition. And Leonard 
 has been quite as fortunate as we. And Paul Amory. 
 Do not let us spoil our living and our new home by 
 dreading disaster." 
 
 "There will not be much time with two new boys. 
 Bertram is such a favorite of mine. I hope he will in- 
 spire Randolph. Sherburne is charming, but l * 
 
 "Well, but what?" 
 
 " I have a feeling that he is — rather uncertain. O, 
 suppose he should follow in Cousin Gilbert's early 
 steps ! " 
 
 " Nonsense ! do not think of such a thing ! He sug- 
 gests his own father to me. And though Len did not 
 have the noblest beginning he has made a really grand 
 man. Few have his high integrity, his broad scope of 
 thought, and he in turn has many of his father's traits." 
 
 " Many of Aunt Laura's as well. Bertram, we shall 
 begin to reckon on heredity," and the half smile curved 
 her lips with a piquant grace. 
 
 "I have always reckoned on it in a way. I have 
 never believed God created a man for some particular 
 sin or weakness, and gave him no corresponding grace 
 or strength. We swing too much to the side of fatalism, 
 or pantheism," and a little dent of protest came between 
 his brows. " I object to a God being in everything, and 
 you having authority over the God, when you do not 
 even govern yourself." 
 
 Lyndell was reflecting. She remembered when she 
 had been dipping into the strange knowledges of the 
 world and following the " Lo here," and the " Lo 
 there: " a restless young woman, with the idea that she 
 must keep pace with her husband's intellectuality. That 
 was before the babies came. And she was glad now she
 
 120 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 had not been a weak and silly mother. True, the twins 
 had been so divided up between their grandparents, she 
 stepping tenderly aside that they might have an unquali- 
 fied joy, but since then they had been all hers. She had 
 not lost interest in the world's progress. And now that 
 there were so many on the threshold of life, she was very 
 thankful. 
 
 "What are you thinking of?" her husband asked, 
 noting the changes in her face. He was fond of study- 
 ing it. " Dell, if these boys are to add a big burthen to 
 your life, I shall be sorry I consented." 
 
 "When the burthen gets too heavy we can shift it on 
 Millicent. She would have taken both boys. Only I 
 wanted Bert. He is so wise and steady and studious. 
 And Randolph " 
 
 "Don't set him Bert for a pattern. If there is any- 
 thing the average boy hates, it is being desired to look 
 up to a boy of his own age. I am afraid Randolph will 
 never be an enthusiastic student." 
 
 "O," cried Dell, disappointedly. 
 
 "My dear wife, can we reasonably expect all the 'vir- 
 tues and graces and wisdom in our eldest son ? I know 
 father counts on his carrying down the honors of medi- 
 cine. I have discovered already that eager as he is for 
 all kinds of bodily feats, he shrinks from physical pain, 
 and we all remember, as a little boy, wild and rough as 
 he was at times, he never tormented a cat or a dog." 
 
 " But Aunt Neale was so tender. And you know you 
 were always strict on the question of cruelty." 
 
 "Yes. A doctor either gets hardened, or tries in 
 every way to lessen physical pain. 1 shall have to con- 
 fess that I have never yet subscribed entirely to the theory 
 of the divine mission of pain. It is true I have known
 
 GETTING SETTLED. 121 
 
 some great sufferers who bore everything with an almost 
 divine resignation, but I have known about ten for the 
 one who made their family or their wives suffer vicar- 
 iously. Then as to whether God sends these things as 
 the older people were trained to believe " 
 
 "O Bertram ! Shall we accept good at the hands of 
 God and not ill?" 
 
 " Half, nay, more than that of the world's ills come 
 from what the poet terms 'man's inhumanity.' Hun- 
 dreds of accidents could be prevented by a little careful- 
 ness, a little expenditure of money at the right time. We 
 huddle people in noisome holes where the air is foul, the 
 light scant, each one with his share of disease, and make 
 a propagating house. Then we take them out and fill 
 our beautiful hospitals where it is almost heaven itself, 
 and do our best to cure them, spend our time and energy 
 and money, and return them to the same vile dens. Do 
 you suppose God is answerable for all our sins and blun- 
 ders that we know are such, and yet will not take the 
 pains to remedy? My dear, I am wasting my lecture 
 knowledge on you when you know it all of yourself. And 
 we have wandered from the boy. Let him follow the 
 bent of his own mind for two years more, and then de- 
 cide. There may be another lad to uphold family digni- 
 ties." 
 
 "O the little children ! I have taken so much pleas- 
 ure in them ! " Dell's tone was a cry of longing regret. 
 " We have been so happy. Shall we leave the joy in the 
 old house and begin with the cares here? " 
 
 Bertram put his arm around her and drew her down to 
 his shoulder, kissed the face that had grown nobler and 
 sweeter with the years, and yet held the charm of " his 
 father's little girl." There was an infinite comfort in the
 
 122 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 softness that irradiated his face like the sun half veiled, 
 half peering through drifts that were hardly clouds. 
 
 "My dear, as I remember we were not all wisdom 
 ourselves in those early years." Then the smile came 
 through and disclosed the tender lines the years had 
 brought. "We made some mistakes. ' The world was 
 too much with me late and soon,' and fame held her daz- 
 zling lure before my eyes. We skirted close to the thin 
 place. It was a useful lesson. It has made me more 
 considerate of the mistakes of others, and some absolute 
 sins creep in from a mistake. So we will not expect 
 these young people to be alive with wisdom, and have it 
 ooze out at every pore. Youth is so charming. We will 
 do our best for them, and trust to a higher power. And 
 if they do not fall in with our ideas we must see what 
 virtue there is in theirs." 
 
 " But you fulfilled your father's hopes," she said. 
 
 "Life was so simple in that pretty country place 
 among people of refinement and education. And I was 
 my father's companion from babyhood. I inherited a 
 gift for surgery. My father never tried vain experiments. 
 His theory was to be useful to his fellow-creatures. You 
 see there was such a little variety. And Millicent was 
 the lovely girl friend of us all. Randolph has more girl 
 friends to-day than I had in all my young life. Milly 
 and Tessy and you. Ah, they were delightful times." 
 
 " And I used to think — Tessy was so restful. Why 
 did you not " 
 
 " Because I fell in love with you. Because you were 
 father's girl. It did trouble me at first because you had 
 so much money." 
 
 "And you have not allowed me to spend it ! " in a 
 half-complaining tone.
 
 GETTING SETTLED. 123 
 
 " No, not on me. Any man who takes a woman's 
 life and heart and soul, ought to care for the garden in 
 which he sets it. But I certainly do not restrict you at 
 present. Only — do not let the children get into the way 
 of thinking that money is the chief good." 
 
 Yes, she had her own way largely now. She did want 
 the children to grow up in a refined and beautiful home. 
 Sherburne had elected this for his home as well, and then 
 Bert would not be crowded out. Leonard and Tessy 
 were more than pleased with the arrangement. Mrs. 
 Kenneth was not far away, the Draytons a little farther. 
 And the Mallorys had come up town. Miss Phillipa 
 had slipped quietly out of life, and the elder Mr. Mal- 
 lory was taking things easy, delighted with his grand- 
 children, and very much in love with his son's bright, af- 
 fectionate, joyous wife. 
 
 Adrian Mallory said — "We must have that young 
 Sherburne in now and then. All you mothers will have 
 to keep a watchful eye on him, there are so many charm- 
 ers abroad." 
 
 "As if a young man couldn't take care of himself," 
 retorted Nora. 
 
 Adrian shrugged his shoulders and lifted his eyebrows, 
 suggestively. 
 
 " He is a handsome fellow, an attractive one, as well. 
 Isn't medicine a dangerous profession for him ? Women 
 have a weak spot for their doctor and their clergyman." 
 
 "Yes," returned Nora, laughingly. " We have all set 
 our affections on Uncle Bertram. And Auntie Dell never 
 gets jealous. She must have been born for a doctor's 
 wife." 
 
 Perhaps she had been born for Bertram Carew's wife. 
 Sometimes Dell remembered when she was one of the
 
 i2 4 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Murray children and went to school with them, ran and 
 played and whooped and shouted and was brimming 
 over with life. Yes, childhood was gladder and freer and 
 richer then. And there was a young medical student 
 pushing up to the front ranks that his father might rejoice 
 in his joy. Neither knew about the other. It had taken 
 Sherburne House and no end of curious events to bring 
 them together, and here they were in the grand old city 
 with all those years lying behind them, and new duties 
 changing every year ahead of them. 
 
 She had taken her way about the new house. Not but 
 what treasures of art and beauty had been added from 
 time to time, but the babies in her own house and the 
 babies elsewhere, as tenderly loved, as sweet and ador- 
 able, and the others who never knew what real mother 
 love was like, some times crowded out the finer living, such 
 as Millicent and Mr. Drayton made. But she never 
 envied them, for was not Doctor Carew the one lover of 
 her life. 
 
 Sometimes, and it came to her quite forcibly just now, 
 she had wondered how she would do when the children 
 were growing up, what plans she would have, how it 
 would seem to be the mother of tall sons and daughters, 
 who were to be placed in the world. And the time had 
 come. 
 
 She had a feeling ever since her twin boy had smiled 
 out on the world, that he should be a physician. He had 
 his father's name and his grandfather's, and he would 
 naturally follow in their footsteps. A little persuasion on 
 his father's part might settle his aims in these plastic 
 years. She wanted Bertram to have the sympathetic 
 delight and companionship his father had taken with his 
 son. She understood Leonard's disappointment, and
 
 GETTING SETTLED. 125 
 
 would fain have persuaded Sherburne to the other way of 
 thinking. 
 
 Then she recalled the crossed purposes of her own 
 childhood. No, she would not interfere. They should 
 have this lovely home and their mother's affection to take 
 out with them in the big world, whither they must all go. 
 Since poverty would never narrow or thwart their lives, 
 mistaken endeavor should not do it.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A TOUCH OF NATURE. 
 
 "lyC70RK began in real earnest for everybody after the 
 v " long summer holiday. Mrs. Townsend settled 
 herself next door to Mrs. Kenneth, to keep house and see 
 what it was like. It was furnished, but she had some choice 
 belongings that she never relinquished, and that gave her 
 an at-home feeling. And she was glad to have Mrs. 
 Kenneth for a neighbor. 
 
 "I think there must have been the pick of the world 
 in that school of Mrs. St. John's," she said to Miss 
 Maurice. " What a charming little body that Miss En- 
 sign is ! And there were all the other girls. I thought 
 them so engaging that day of the luncheon. I am going 
 to have some social life this winter. I sometimes think 
 I will marry again just for the sake of having a real 
 home. I could travel about a little and come back. 
 But then you would want some other woman who just 
 suited you," reflectively. 
 
 "Do husbands just suit you?" asked Miss Maurice, 
 archly, a half smile making doubting lines around her 
 lips. 
 
 "You are very much in love when you first marry, 
 unless you marry for money, and a woman generally 
 thinks her lover perfection. It is quite a while before 
 she gets disenchanted, and then the step is irrevocable. 
 So if you want to be happy, pick out the best traits he 
 possesses and adore them." 
 
 126
 
 A TOUCH OF NATURE. 127 
 
 Gertie would have liked to ask whether Mrs. Town- 
 send had been disenchanted. Her husband had lived 
 five years. But the Sherburne people were all lovers 
 still. 
 
 "If you were five and thirty I should ask you to cast 
 in your life with me, only I should like you to be as 
 young as you are now. I am fond of youth, then I am 
 fond of old age. It is the between times that come hard 
 on a woman." 
 
 The between times would not need to affect her much, 
 Gertrude thought. She had abundant charms, fresh 
 complexion, brilliant and moving eyes, when she talked 
 in real earnest, fine conversational talent and a kind of 
 radiant exuberance that never became effusive or tiresome. 
 She could marry again easily. 
 
 "And thirty-five is the time a woman gives up what- 
 ever dreams she may have had?" ventured the girl, 
 inquiringly. 
 
 " At thirty she has a little fear the right man will not 
 come along, and questions whether it may not be better 
 to marry the wrong one. Five years later she has ceased 
 to discuss the wrong man with herself or married him." 
 
 Gertie laughed a little. 
 
 " I am very fond of young people. I should have been 
 mother of a family. Then, as you have learned by this 
 time, I am also fond of social life. I think I will begin 
 by receptions. Two this month, two next. Let us make 
 out a list, and see how many acquaintances we own. I 
 will be first in the field." 
 
 Gertrude sat down at her desk. They had a pretty 
 recess-room fitted up as a sort of library. 
 
 "Some of these people are not in the city now, but 
 will be later on. And the gentlemen will be glad of a
 
 128 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 little entertainment, especially the newspaper men. And 
 put down that young Beaumanoir." 
 
 Mr. Murray's name was among the newspaper men. 
 Gertrude had not seen him or Sherburne since her return 
 to the city. 
 
 " Now I must consider who will pour tea and coffee 
 and chocolate. You can have your choice." 
 
 "Coffee," replied Miss Maurice, with admirable 
 promptness. 
 
 " There is that Miss Wyman who really has a poetical 
 gift and is coming up in the magazines. She shall have 
 the chocolate. And a married woman to pour the tea. 
 I shall ask Mrs. Drayton to help me receive. Now write 
 it out for the printers and send it off. And men say 
 women are not expeditious ! " 
 
 There was nothing on hand that evening and Gertrude 
 went in to Mrs. Kenneth's. The two Beaumanoirs were 
 there, and Sherburne evinced his pleasure at once. They 
 had several songs, Gertrude playing accompaniments. 
 
 Ruth left them alone at the piano, presently. 
 
 "Why did you not allow me to come?" Sherburne 
 asked, abruptly. " I began to think I should never find 
 a way to see you." 
 
 "It was not convenient in the summer — I suppose 
 that is what you refer to? " briefly. 
 
 " Yes. Are you going to stay in the city ? " 
 
 "I expect to— through the winter." 
 
 He nodded approvingly. 
 
 " May I come and call upon you ? " 
 
 " You will have a card for the receptions," she said. 
 
 " To begin with the New Year? " 
 
 "Next week." There was an amused smile playing 
 about her lips, and an odd light in her eyes.
 
 A TOUCH OF NATURE. 129 
 
 " I shall be there. You are sure you are not " 
 
 He glanced into her eyes so eagerly that she flushed. 
 
 " I should not jest in that fashion." 
 
 Bertram had been inspecting some new specimens with 
 the professor. Now he rose and came forward. 
 
 "Miss Maurice, won't you sing some of those jolly 
 songs we had at Melchias ? Mrs. Kenneth, will they be 
 too noisy? We won't roar them out as we did on the 
 beach. What fun we did have ! I should like to go to 
 Melchias again." 
 
 " I do not believe I shall mind the noise. I never get 
 tired of hearing about the island." 
 
 "Uncle Con is an awfully jolly fellow," declared 
 Sherburne. " How I did envy you all. I should have 
 turned green if the boys had not come out." 
 
 The songs were merry enough. One was a part song 
 between a mermaid and a sailor. Bertram had a good 
 deal of voice yet, and took the sailor's part, a poor sailor 
 who was at last inveigled under the green sea waves by 
 the mermaid with golden hair. And somehow he quite' 
 crowded Sherburne out with his prior claim. 
 
 Ten o'clock was to be ordinary hours at Doctor Ca- 
 rew's. Bertram was first to remember. 
 
 "And I have stayed unconsciously," declared Ger- 
 trude. " Dear Mrs. Kenneth, have we set you wild with 
 our youthful folly?" 
 
 " I have enjoyed it very much. Come in often." 
 
 They both escorted Miss Maurice to the next door 
 stoop, but Sherburne insisted upon using her latchkey. 
 
 "O," said Mrs. Townsend, "you are ten minutes too 
 late. Mr. Murray has been here the last hour. He has 
 been off somewhere to a convention and just returned 
 this morning."
 
 130 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "And his two nephews were in Mrs. Kenneth's." 
 
 The girlishness had not all gone out of her face yet. 
 She looked sixteen. Mrs. Townsend studied her with a 
 new interest. 
 
 The first reception was a brilliant success. Mrs. Town- 
 send stood on the border-land. She had a long train of 
 ancestors behind her, she had a good income and many 
 social advantages. She sifted out undesirable acquaint- 
 ance in her gatherings, and there was a certain elegant 
 propriety observed ; but she brought people together in 
 her fine, friendly manner who were glad to know each 
 other. If she took up some poor, struggling artist or 
 author, she made sure beforehand that he would not rail 
 at the customs of refined society in her drawing-room, 
 but give and accept those graces that were tonic and 
 reviving. That she should lecture and speak at public 
 meetings and be interested in the great questions of the 
 day was put down as one of the entertainments of a 
 woman who had nothing else to do, and who really en- 
 joyed admiration. 
 
 Gertrude had the flower of the men coming and going 
 about her table. The coffee was excellent, and she man- 
 aged the accessories with admirable grace. Mr. Murray 
 brought an English friend, but though he confessed a 
 fondness for tea, was tempted by the fragrance of the 
 coffee, and the bright, piquant manner of the girl who 
 poured it. 
 
 "I was sorry to miss you the other evening," Mr. 
 Murray said. "Do you know that I have had only one 
 glimpse of you since we came home from Maine?" 
 
 " One ? " She asked it reflectively. 
 
 " How many do you count up? " 
 
 " I had — not thought — You see I went home, and
 
 A TOUCH OF NATURE. 131 
 
 then to Chautauqua and Niagara, and we have not been 
 long in the city." 
 
 "I don't need to ask whether you like the secretary- 
 ship?" 
 
 " Perhaps you can read that in my face," turning it to 
 him with a spice of bravado. She felt strong enough to 
 do it just now. 
 
 "It is a joyous, contented face," he said. "I am 
 very glad you have been happy." 
 
 " One could not help it with Mrs. Townsend. I feel 
 half the time as if I was playing at earning my living." 
 
 "You are having too good a time. I think I shall 
 get some newspaper work for you to do. You will be- 
 come enervated by all this ease and luxury and admira- 
 tion." 
 
 "Mrs. Townsend has not dismissed me yet, and I 
 surely shall not leave of my own accord." 
 
 He laughed a little. Two or three others came up, 
 and then some women gathered about to hear Mr. Murray 
 talk. He had the art of attracting men as well as women, 
 and since the masculines seemed to converge at this 
 point the butterflies came also. 
 
 Gertrude was quietly gracious. She had never seen 
 Mr. Murray at such a decided advantage socially, and a 
 strange sense of his superiority pervaded her. 
 
 Now and then she glanced up when a new throng en- 
 tered. Was she expecting some one, he wondered. 
 
 The some one did not come until after Mr. Murray 
 had left with Mrs. Carew and Mrs. Drayton. Some of 
 the younger men were lingering, but when Sherburne 
 Beaumanoir entered he seemed to add a distinction to 
 youth and good looks. 
 
 "O," said Mrs. Townsend, "two of your aunts and
 
 132 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 your uncle have just gone. And there have been some 
 pretty girls. Miss Heath," to a young lady standing 
 near, "will you show Mr. Beaumanoir around a little. 
 Like the famous Alice he may like to be introduced to 
 tea and coffee. ' ' 
 
 Miss Heath convoyed the well-dressed and well-man- 
 nered young fellow hither and thither, quite proud of her 
 charge. No, he did not care for tea. Coffee was his 
 favorite. And then he greeted Miss Maurice cordially, 
 and lingered so that Miss Heath bade them a reluctant 
 adieu, summoned by her aunt. 
 
 "I thought I should never get here," Sherburne be- 
 gan, hurriedly. " A dozen things bothered. The per- 
 versity of inanimate objects is sometimes past belief. 
 And now it is quite late. May I sit down by you and 
 sip my coffee leisurely ? " 
 
 " Certainly. Have you been studying hard to-day? " 
 
 He made a dainty disdainful gesture. " I have been 
 bothered out of my wits and had an extra lecture from 
 uncle." 
 
 " I hope you haven't come up to this great human 
 hive to sip drone's honey? You may starve." 
 
 "Then I shall fly to you. What comforting coffee ! 
 Now isn't that better than if I had said delightful?" 
 
 " I remember comfortable was one of your pet words. 
 The other is next of kin, I suppose ? " 
 
 He flushed slightly with the pleased vanity of a 
 young man that she should remember anything he had 
 said. 
 
 "And a biscuit!" handing him the plate. " Or al- 
 monds. I am not sure, but the best of my wares are 
 gone." 
 
 " So long as you are not gone — " laughingly.
 
 A TOUCH OF NATURE. 13} 
 
 "I am a fixture." 
 
 " Then I shall come in to see you often." 
 
 " Often ? " She raised her brows but looked amused. 
 
 There were no more guests to welcome. Mrs. Town- 
 send came over to them with a Mrs. Jay, who knew all 
 of his relatives, and had met his father in Washington. 
 
 One and another went away. Mr. Fielder was staying 
 to consult his hostess on an important matter. She 
 looked at her watch. 
 
 " You had better remain to dinner, if you will accept 
 my informal invitation," she said. " It will be served in 
 fifteen minutes. I will ask the young man also. Three 
 are a rather awkward party." 
 
 The young man was most happy. The fates surely 
 had befriended him. 
 
 It was a cozy dinner. Mr. Fielder and Mrs. Town- 
 send discussed sociology, the young people flitted from 
 one thing to another and found much amusement. After- 
 ward they had some music and Sherburne sang several 
 German songs. 
 
 "He is a really delightful young man," said Mrs. 
 Townsend. " And I hope a good student." 
 
 Miss Maurice seemed in such a whirl that she did not 
 fall asleep in her usual quick manner. She rambled over 
 the rocks at Melchias, come to think about it there were 
 a good many walks together, and, curious talks. It was 
 not all nonsense either, though sometimes it was difficult 
 to tell whether Mr. Murray was in earnest. She had 
 flirted a very little with Ward Garrison until she found 
 him verging to the sentimental side, when she had made 
 a jesting matter of it. She felt inwardly that Mr. Mur- 
 ray approved of this course. She did care for his ap- 
 proval. Of course, having come on his niece's invita-
 
 134 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 tion, aided and abetted by himself, she was too just to 
 do anything that would offend any one. That Bertram 
 should be her shadow was simply amusing. 
 
 On the yacht she felt the indescribable difference in 
 his demeanor toward her. They had all been children 
 on a summer frolic, now she was in a slightly altered po- 
 sition, nearer womanhood, a young girl studying the fu- 
 ture. And when one of her letters brought a disap- 
 pointment he remarked it. 
 
 " I am the most unreasonable creature in the world," 
 she said to him. " I simply hate the idea of teaching 
 school, and it is the only thing for which I am fitted. I 
 hope the prospect before me will fail, and when it does 
 come to nought I am bitterly disappointed. I have to 
 take up another, and either they want half a dozen 
 things I am not a proficient in, and a college degree, or 
 else the work is hard and the salary meagre, and I hold 
 off for something better." 
 
 " There is office-work/ how would you like that?" 
 
 "I could write letters — yes, I think I might do office- 
 work — but how would I get the office ? " and she looked 
 up with such a droll, mock-serious expression that he 
 was amused, interested. "This is a case where the 
 office doesn't seek the man or the woman, but there are 
 dozens of applicants for every place. I dare say you 
 know all about that. I don't like the work-day world. 
 That's a tremendous heresy in this enlightened age of 
 woman's progress ; isn't it ? I am fond of ease and 
 leisure. If I had the voice of your lovely Princess I 
 should go on the stage ; if I had Miss Osborne's genius I 
 think I would work my way up somewhere. I really 
 would have courage. And if I were as beautiful as Pearl 
 Amory — can you guess what I would do ? "
 
 A TO UCH OF NA TURE. 1 35 
 
 "What?" He asked it in a curious tone, doubtful, 
 with a laugh at the back of it. 
 
 " I should marry a rich man. There ! I have poured 
 out the inmost recesses of my soul to you. I shall be 
 high-minded, virtuous, and heroic, because no tempta- 
 tions will come in my way. And now you can put me 
 in an article under the caption of ' Girls I have known.' " 
 
 "An honest girl," he made answer. "Though she 
 does not take a very high estimate of her abilities. ' ' 
 
 "But I have no abilities. My education has been 
 hammered into me by hard work. I cannot be enthusi- 
 astic over the things I don't like." 
 
 " What about the things you do like? " 
 
 She laughed instead of answering. There was a soft 
 flush in her face, a vague mistiness in her eyes, and a 
 little quiver that remained about her lips after the laugh 
 had gone. 
 
 " I learned long ago not to cry for the moon," she said, 
 feeling that he was waiting for a reply. 
 
 " The true philosophy of life." 
 
 Then they paced the small deck and exchanged bits of 
 badinage with the others they met. 
 
 After that talk they seemed on a different footing ; he 
 more serious and friendly, she with a feeling that he knew 
 her triviality and lack of ambition, and her true estimate 
 of herself. 
 
 Now and then Con Murray wondered he had not mar- 
 ried. All the other children were settled in homes of 
 their own. His parents had gone back to their first love, 
 a pretty suburban cottage and one servant. Mr. Murray 
 still kept a business interest, and his advice was highly 
 valued. The children and grandchildren came out and 
 made visits. He often ran out and spent a night and de-
 
 136 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 voted the morning to teasing his little mother, who never 
 ceased to bewail the fact that he wasn't married. 
 
 There had been plenty of opportunities. But when he 
 came to the serious point, he was fond of his liberty. 
 And at this crisis some journey loomed up attractively. 
 There had been several intense fancies in his youth, but in 
 every instance he was glad later on that he had not 
 yielded to them. 
 
 He ought to marry some refined, rather sedate, society 
 woman, who could still shine when occasion offered, yet 
 who could be content with home joys and let him have 
 his own way pretty well. And yet — he was so fond of 
 girls, real girls with whims and wants, the delicate with- 
 holding, the generous giving, the charm that gets toned 
 down presently — the seductive charm of youth. And he 
 was so ridiculously young ! He still had a boy's exu- 
 berance. He would like to gather half a dozen girls in 
 his home and give them a good time, let them dance and 
 be merry with the blessedness of the magical time that 
 flies too swiftly. Why had it not flown with him ? 
 
 If Princess would come and have her young friends 
 about her ! But Tessy wanted her this year. Few of 
 the girls would be in the city. And Dell's daughter was 
 shy and quiet, young for her years. 
 
 He liked Gertrude Maurice very much. He should 
 not spoil a brilliant future for her if he did take her into 
 his keeping. He knew a great deal about girls' lives and 
 the mixed motives of their marriages, and he had an old- 
 fashioned notion that most of them were better off in 
 homes of their own, even if it was not an ideal home. 
 
 He watched her when she was not on guard, for there 
 were times when she wore an impassive front or shielded 
 herself behind a mask of ridiculous gayety.
 
 A TOUCH OF NATURE. 137 
 
 He guessed presently that both were used as a sort of 
 guard. He had written to Mrs. Townsend about her and 
 advised her to refer to Mrs. St. John. 
 
 Then came the last evening of their return journey. 
 To-morrow they were to part, or she was to part with 
 them, and go back to the dreary round, immeasurably 
 worse for this grand holiday, she said in the bitterness of 
 her soul. 
 
 He had not meant to ask her now, or in this mood. 
 Indeed, it was more of a suggestion than asking, but she 
 had replied so quickly with a kind of breathless intensity 
 that almost confessed while it denied. Every feeling of 
 honor rose up to strengthen her. And in his heart he 
 really respected her for it. Neither would he take an ad- 
 vantage. If she did not accept Mrs. Townsend's offer, 
 he would then hunt her up and insist upon her accepting 
 his. 
 
 A little later he had an interview with Mrs. Townsend, 
 who had written to Freeport, very well satisfied with Mrs. 
 St. John's commendation. 
 
 " Con Murray," she exclaimed, with a kind of shrewd 
 mirthfulness, " I believe you are interested in her your- 
 self. If she comes to me, I shall have her sign an iron- 
 clad agreement. There must be no philandering, no 
 letters, no anything. I want her for a year or not at all." 
 
 " Well, have a care that no one else comes along to 
 philander. Bring her back to New York fancy free. I 
 trust you, you see." 
 
 " You are a foolish fellow to choose that way. And 
 so young a girl." 
 
 "I like young girls. I'll tell you in a year's time 
 whether I have chosen or not. And she may find some 
 one more to her fancy."
 
 138 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " You are a flirt of the deepest dye." 
 
 He nodded humorously. 
 
 There had been a great many things to occupy his 
 year. Hers had been full of variety and satisfactions. 
 He had kept his word, merely hoping in his occasional 
 notes that her secretary was doing well, and being as 
 briefly answered. And though circumstances had seemed 
 rather untoward through the summer, there would be all 
 the winter. He had wondered a little if he had not been 
 overhasty, but when he met her, he resolved to abide by 
 his first impressions. Miss Maurice had acquired many 
 society graces and learned to make much more of herself. 
 
 It had been a puzzle from her point of view. A more 
 sentimental girl might have dropped headlong in love. 
 She had stood off warily from a fine self-respect. And 
 even now in these few interviews she could not decide 
 upon the nature of his regard. He must be used to 
 women's attentions ; she would not fall down and wor- 
 ship him. She had a curiously resentful feeling. And 
 now she understood that this young Sherburne Beau- 
 manoir admired her immensely. If she wanted any 
 little — well, retaliation, for she did not feel sufficiently 
 vindictive for revenge, she could let this go on awhile. 
 It was only a boy's fancy. Young Beaumanoir would 
 have dozens of them before he settled to the real love of 
 his life. 
 
 If people were still lingering in country houses, there 
 were enough in the city to set all kinds of enjoyments 
 astir. Theatres, concerts, art receptions, club openings, 
 driving in the park, small dinners, dances for young 
 people, shopping and calling. 
 
 Mrs. Townsend had her hands full. It was understood 
 that she was always at home on Friday evening. There
 
 A TOUCH OF NATURE. 139 
 
 were no special invitations, and one and another brought 
 in a friend who had something to contribute or who 
 wished to enjoy. Miss Maurice was quite indispensable 
 on these occasions. She fulfilled her social obligations 
 with grace and ease, she brought shy people together who 
 might have looked longingly all the evening at each other 
 and gone away hungering. 
 
 Mr. Murray brought his nephew — he did try to cap- 
 ture the professor, but in vain. He was rather startled 
 at Sherburne's appropriation of Gertrude, and the pleas- 
 ure the two seemed to take in each other. Yes, she was 
 young — and if some young men — But then Sherburne 
 was not eligible ; he was a mere boy with hardly any 
 plans to life ; and years of study yet before him. Of 
 course a serious thought was simply ridiculous, and he 
 laughed at himself. Let them have their gay time. 
 
 Gertrude Maurice studied herself in the glass that 
 night, before she removed the withered flowers at her 
 belt, or the pins from her hair. She had grown better 
 looking. Her complexion had cleared up a little, though 
 it could hardly be called fair, but her eyes were unde- 
 niably fine, dark and lustrous. She had learned how to 
 use them. The great coil of light hair was almost a 
 crown, the chin and throat had rounded out. She was 
 not as thin as she used to be, and the freedom from wor- 
 riment, the enjoyments and delight had given her spirit 
 and vigor. She held herself erect, but it was with a 
 grace and not stiffness. 
 
 " I do not need to worry," she said to the girl in the 
 glass, "I am young and everything is pleasant, really 
 better than traveling about so much. I even think I 
 might marry well presently, though there is no hurry. I 
 shall just enjoy things "
 
 140 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 What she said down in her heart was — " He was 
 amusing himself in that old time, men often do. I was 
 wise. I have kept my friends and done nothing mean or 
 underhand. I do not suppose he will ever marry — that 
 seems to be the general impression about him." 
 
 Princess had written a dainty little note to her. She 
 felt they ought to be real friends again, and the very next 
 morning Gertrude answered it, while the spirit of delight 
 was still strong upon her. She made people as real with her 
 pen as when she talked about them. The Kenneths and 
 Ruth, their own pretty rooms, the reception and the 
 evening, Sherburne and Mr. Murray, the beautiful home 
 of the Carews, and the hosts of big boys, the delightful 
 weather, the drives in the park, the exhibitions that 
 seemed always opening. She ought to be here in the 
 midst of it all. 
 
 She would like to be there. She had settled matters, 
 and given up what was not for her. 
 
 " Aunt Violet has some plans for you, for us all," said 
 Mrs. Beaumanoir. "I am glad that Miss Mead is com- 
 ing so soon ; and if I like her I shall feel quite free. 
 And we will see what papa says. Aunt Violet wants us 
 to come for a fortnight — she wishes to include you in her 
 bevy of pretty maids at the reception. And we ought to 
 go and visit Aunt Julia." 
 
 "Yes," Princess rejoined. But she did not feel very 
 eager for the gayety. 
 
 " Was your letter from Aunt Lyndell ? " 
 
 "O no. Miss Maurice. It is so bright and chatty 
 you must read it, mamma. I should spoil it in the telling," 
 and she laid it in her mother's lap. 
 
 Mrs. Beaumanoir perused it, smiling and making run- 
 ning comments.
 
 A TO UCH OF NA TURE. 1 4 1 
 
 "I am quite longing to see Auntie Dell's house. How 
 good she was to take in the boys ! Bert is so happy. 
 There seems to be a colony of them, and no grown-up 
 girl to temper their exuberance. But I do think Sher- 
 burne is pretty gay for a young student. Yes, Miss 
 Maurice writes charming letters." 
 
 Princess had taken up her embroidery and seemed to 
 be diligently inspecting it. Mrs. Kenneth and her house- 
 hold had come in for a bright picture and a veiled sug- 
 gestion. Would it affect Princess? What was in her 
 mind, for surely it had once been all in her own hands if 
 she really cared. 
 
 "I am like Aunt Lyndell," she said at length. "I 
 am almost sorry to have the children grow up." 
 
 The judge said they must go of course. Violet planned 
 to have the girls simply dressed in soft white silk. They 
 would not indulge in expensive finery this winter while 
 they were "buds." 
 
 Miss Mead, the new governess, came to hand and was 
 a very agreeable person, hardly thirty, with both dignity 
 and good breeding. So there was nothing to prevent 
 their going up to Washington. 
 
 Pearl was full of eager delight. Washington would 
 not be at its gayest until after the holidays, but it was 
 gay enough. Congress had opened. The weather was 
 magnificent. 
 
 They found Aunt Julia very happy, and Ray sweet 
 and gracious. 
 
 "To think of four girls making their bow to society," 
 she said, gayly. " Aunt Violet has a good deal of cour- 
 age. But there are so many ' functions,' that I doubt if 
 she could get us in one by one. And you can hardly 
 imagine how important I feel as papa's housekeeper, as if
 
 142 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 I had grown half a dozen years older. Aunt Lyndell 
 said she had all the boys up there and we had all the 
 girls down here, and that it was hardly fair." 
 
 It was a very attractive home. Violet Osborne had 
 sent her two paintings, one a bit of Melchias that Prin- 
 cess recognized at once. Pearl had sent her two splen- 
 did sofa cushions. Uncle Winthrop and his wife had 
 been their first guests, and they had brought some ex- 
 quisite china. 
 
 "It is almost like being married," said Ray, with a 
 bright smile, " perhaps as near as I shall ever get. And 
 there have been so many friends of Aunt Julia's. One 
 lady, a Mrs. Galbraith, has a beautiful house and horses. 
 Twice a week she sends the carriage over for us. When 
 she has time she accompanies us. I seem right in the 
 midst of lovely living, and I was afraid I had left most 
 of it behind." 
 
 "All living is lovely when the heart goes in it," said 
 Aunt Tessy. 
 
 Her heart had gone into this, Ray knew. She had 
 taken it up as a duty she owed ; she found it a pleasure. 
 She and her father were growing into finer accord. She 
 could understand so much more of his life and the great 
 sacrifice he had made ; the useless sacrifice. 
 
 Aunt Julia was glad enough to welcome them, and 
 wanted to know about the New York contingent., though 
 Lyndell found time in her busy life to write charming 
 letters to the first of the Sherburne aunts she had learned 
 to love. Millicent did not neglect her either, and her 
 two younger sons joined heartily in adding to her happi- 
 ness. 
 
 Aniory House was a scene of delightful confusion. 
 It had enlarged its borders since Violet came there a
 
 A TOUCH OF NATURE. 143 
 
 happy young wife. Then they had seemed in almost a 
 wilderness of greenery, now streets had reached out to 
 them and they were no longer hidden from the great city 
 of the land, growing more beautiful year by year. The 
 studio had a wing to itself and an entrance that was 
 quite stately and held two or three receptions of its own 
 in the course of the winter. 
 
 There was a fine conservatory as- well, and grounds that 
 were beautiful from early spring to near Christmas. 
 Violet Amory had been very happy all the years of her 
 married life.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A FLOCK OF GIRLS. 
 
 \ FLOCK of girls surely in their fluttering white 
 gowns and ribbons and their charming youth. No 
 one was envious that Pearl carried off the palm. There 
 was a steady procession, and every one was fresh and 
 amiable and did not grudge compliments that had not 
 had long enough society usage to become hackneyed to 
 the recipients. 
 
 But the delight of the girls was the ball of the even- 
 ing. There were young men in plenty, the music was 
 enchanting, and the dancing sheer fascination. What 
 hosts of memories it called up to Judge Beaumanoir of 
 his own youth. 
 
 "If Lyndell could only have been here," he and 
 Violet Amory said almost in a breath. 
 
 " Violet, are we getting to be middle-aged people with 
 all these sons and daughters ? Sometimes it seems such 
 a long while since Dell first came among us." 
 
 " Years and years. Yet I can recall that first night, 
 and how she has won love from all of us." 
 
 "And worthily," he added, with deep feeling. 
 
 " Now the gayety and gladness have passed on to our 
 children. I hope they will be just as happy as we were." 
 
 They certainly were gay and glad and danced to 
 their hearts' content. It was quite the event of the early 
 season. 
 
 And then Uncle Beaumanoir made them happy again 
 144
 
 A FLOCK OF GIRLS. 145 
 
 by a very delightful dinner and a theatre party after- 
 ward. Aunt Julia's friend, Mrs. Galbraith, gave a little 
 dance for Ray. She was very fond of young people. 
 
 They were fain to keep Princess over Christmas, but 
 there were so many things to do and the children would 
 need her. Then the boys might come home. Millicent 
 and her family would keep the feast at Beaumanoir. 
 Leonard insisted on the boys accompanying them. Ber- 
 tram agreed at once, but Sherburne rather demurred. 
 
 " Of course you will go," said his uncle. 
 
 The Carews asked in the Kenneths and Miss Ensign, 
 as they seemed to have no family to gather about them. 
 
 " Everybody was inconsolable," Pearl wrote to Prin- 
 cess. " Quiet little body that you are, you really made 
 a conquest of that Mr. Sevier. He had asked so particu- 
 larly about Sherburne House, and how you get there, 
 that I think he must meditate coming, unless you 
 appear again on the scene of action. And I receive in- 
 vitations for you frequently. We were all four asked to 
 a dance and a special figure in the german was arranged 
 in our honor. Mrs. Galbraith consulted mamma about a 
 musicale in which she wanted you to sing. 
 
 " Papa scolds a little about the dissipation, and says 
 Violet will be ruined if this goes on, and she was begin- 
 ning to paint so well. I am glad I have no particular 
 genius and can indulge in pleasures without stint." 
 
 "She ought to go up again," said Judge Beaumanoir. 
 He was very fond of having his pretty daughter admired. 
 "And — " with a queer little hesitation — "what of the 
 lover whose eagerness seems to have died out. Has he 
 gone back to his first love — science ? ' ' 
 
 He glanced at his wife with a half smile in which there 
 was a trace of annoyance.
 
 146 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " Whatever has happened is due to Princess," said 
 her mother. "And if she should prefer freedom and 
 gayety for awhile we will not blame her." 
 
 "I'm not blaming her. I want her to have some 
 bright, glad youth. There is no zest like that of youth, 
 and there is no time when one so thoroughly enjoys 
 young pleasures. One gets a broader outlook with the 
 years, and the responsibility of life dawns upon the more 
 experienced vision. I remember what good times we 
 had in our youth, and Sherburne House was a synonym 
 for enjoyment." 
 
 "I wish there could be no thought of marriage for a 
 long while to come. I did not want Princess to begin 
 life so early. Well, I may have my wish." 
 
 And yet she felt sorry for the grave and high-toned 
 man who had awakened to the possibility of a happy 
 satisfying existence. She wondered a little how she had 
 come to understand and like him so well, that there 
 should be a slight pang in his disappointment, while she 
 was glad to keep her child. How complex one's feel- 
 ings were ! 
 
 They were all glad to have her back. Miss Armitage 
 said 
 
 "You could not have given us a better treat than to 
 come and help us with our Christmas music. I wonder 
 if you do realize how much joy you can give with your 
 singing." 
 
 Was it not her business in life to give joy wherever 
 she could, and not take away the gladness illumining any 
 other soul ? 
 
 Sherburne made a plunge into the country gayeties. 
 There were parties and dances, and it was flattering 
 to have two or three people fighting for him, and
 
 A FLOCK OF GIRLS. 147 
 
 consulting his convenience as to what evening he could 
 give them, and expressing regret that his stay should be 
 so brief. 
 
 Judge Beaumanoir watched his son with rather appre- 
 hensive eyes. But had there not been a time when he 
 was quite as pleasure-loving, quite as careless of the 
 future ? But somehow he had come to look upon Sher- 
 burne as a rather intellectual young man, a son he was to 
 be proud of, a good student, who would make his mark. 
 Doctor Carew did not write enthusiastically about him 
 and this was a source of secret mortification. 
 
 " I hope you are doing your best," he said to him. 
 
 Sherburne made a dainty inscrutable gesture, which 
 might mean many things. 
 
 " I have been skirmishing about the romance of medi- 
 cine," he replied, lightly, "and it is like playing the piano 
 by ear for your own delectation. But when you come to 
 the real drudgery, it is not all rose color. Uncle Bert 
 has set me at the drudgery in the beginning. Of course 
 I shall fight through — but one must have some relaxation. 
 And there is time enough." 
 
 Bertram had shot up into a tall lad, and even if he was 
 bookish, he was a great delight to the younger children 
 with his fresh, eager interest in everything, and his cheer- 
 ful good humor. He and Princess had delightful confi- 
 dences. The evenings at Aunt Millicent's were enthusi- 
 astically described, and the pretty brightness of Ruth with 
 the motherly sweetness of Mrs. Kenneth. 
 
 " And everybody hopes you will come up for a visit," 
 said the boy, eagerly. "Indeed, I really had strict in- 
 junctions to bring you. We could have such a good 
 time. Princess," humorously — "there ought to be two 
 of you."
 
 148 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "Twins," said the sister, laughingly. 
 
 "But twins are not alike. Randolph now is a big, 
 breezy fellow, just a little rough, but good-natured, and 
 Milly is such a shy sort of girl, always wanting to shrink, 
 away in corners and not caring half as much for fun as 
 Honor. Honor is going to be more like Auntie Dell, but 
 Milly has such lovely golden hair and great dark eyes 
 that have a startled expression in them. She doesn't 
 look any more like Ran than a dainty, delicate star looks 
 like a great full moon when the man is in it. And if you 
 had a twin I should want it to be exactly like you, 
 or else I should take you. Princess, why can't you 
 come ? ' ' 
 
 It was very sweet to be wanted. She smiled grate- 
 fully. 
 
 " And you can't think how elegant it is at Mrs. Town- 
 send's. They have 'evenings' for almost everything. 
 The professor goes once in a while. Uncle Con is there 
 very often, and I do think Sherburne is quite struck with 
 Miss Maurice. She's ever so stylish, and changed some- 
 how, just bright and witty, and not afraid of anybody. 
 But we boys can't have much of her, you know." 
 
 " I should think not, with all your lessons," said Prin- 
 cess, with a pretty show of authority. 
 
 " Well, there are lessons and lectures and what not for 
 Sherburne, but he seems to put in a deal of other things. 
 People ask him everywhere just as they do here. I sup- 
 pose it's being grown up — and good-looking," and Bertram 
 made a comical face before he smiled. 
 
 The holidays were very bright and enjoyable. Prin- 
 cess found so much work to do. Were people more easily 
 pleased in this simple life, or was she taking hold of some 
 of the mysteries and evolving that greater enjoyment,
 
 A FLOCK OF GIRLS. 149 
 
 blessedness in giving herself, her very best, just as freely 
 here as in the great world. 
 
 It was not quite so gay when the boys had gone. 
 
 "Wouldn't you rather go up with me?" asked her 
 father the evening before his departure. " The girls will 
 want you, and there are so many pleasures to enjoy." 
 
 "I am going to stay at home with mamma a little 
 while," she answered, softly. 
 
 But it was only a very little while, for this time Pearl 
 wrote a moving letter. 
 
 "We are all moaning for you. The 'harbor bar' is 
 nothing to it. And if you do not want us to make per- 
 fect wrecks of ourselves and go drifting down the shores 
 of disappointment bay, you will come at once. I thought 
 the quartette had a rather ridiculous side when we were 
 all out in our best finery at mamma's tea. But it seems 
 that we invented a new custom. There are three houses 
 that insist upon having us in full force, and you will get 
 a letter from Mrs. Galbraith explaining her plans and de- 
 sires. She has such a beautiful home, and really I think 
 she has been quite smitten with us all. She takes Aunt 
 Julia and Ray out in her carriage, and every few days 
 she is over to the studio. There's a dainty little bit of 
 Robin's Point that Violet painted, and papa says it is 
 really well done. She wanted to buy it, but papa per- 
 suaded Violet to send it home. He did not want her to 
 sell any pictures just yet, and he said if she let that one 
 go she would begin to have orders, and she was too young 
 and would be spoiled by flattery and never realize that she 
 could and ought to do a great deal better. See what it is to 
 be wise and under teachers and masters, and to be giving 
 up heroically, and submit to the discipline of work. I am 
 glad I have no genius, though I think I have mentioned
 
 150 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 that point of thanksgiving before. But what do you think 
 Daisy, the little midget, did a few days ago ? though I 
 believe she was a week or two working at it. She wrote 
 some little rhymes, very cute, too, and made pictures to 
 suit with pen and ink. Papa thought them wonderful. 
 We may have a family genius after all. 
 
 " You may see I am not practiced at letter-writing. I 
 ramble from scene to scene, and forget my starting point. 
 Mrs. Galbraith will explain to Aunt Tessy's satisfaction 
 I hope. Do you remember Mrs. Rheid, whose one son 
 is private secretary somewhere, and the other a cadet at 
 Annapolis ? The cadet has a furlough or a vacation — 
 has been slightly ill, and will be home a fortnight, and 
 she wants us for the dance she is to give the boys, all of 
 us, the unbroken quartette. Mamma sent her to Uncle 
 Beaumanoir, and there are so many pleasures you must 
 remain a full fortnight, and help make the quartette a 
 signal success." 
 
 Princess went to her mother's room with her letter in 
 her hand. She looked up in bright, amused inquiry 
 from one she was reading. 
 
 " O mamma — is it from Mrs. Galbraith?" 
 " Has she written to you ? " 
 
 "No. This is such a long, chatty letter from Pearl, 
 who always detested letter-writing. You must read it. 
 She speaks of Mrs. Galbraith's invitation." 
 
 " That lady's note is quite charming. She wants you 
 to sing at her musicale, and asks that you may be her 
 guest for a few days. I am always sorry for the people 
 who love girls and have none of their own. She seems 
 to like Ray very much. I am glad Ray is getting to be 
 such a favorite. I suppose you will go ? " 
 Princess smiled a little.
 
 A FLOCK OF GIRLS. 151 
 
 " You think I ought ? " She had read assent already 
 in her mother's face. 
 
 "And here is another reason," looking up with a 
 quick light in the soft motherly eyes. 
 
 "Mrs. Rheid is quite delightful. And she wants a 
 daughter instead of two boys. Mamma, it is nice to 
 have a good many." 
 
 "Yes, dear," returned the mother, with a sweet satis- 
 faction. Her six were none too many. If some of them 
 went out of the home circle others would grow up to fill 
 their places. Even a larger number had been no detri- 
 ment to her own mother's household. 
 
 There was a curious little question cropping up now 
 and then in the mind of Princess Beaumanoir. She was 
 very fond of Miss Armitage, who was on the rather heroic 
 and conscientious order. She had had her day in youth, 
 and the sun had dropped suddenly down and left twi- 
 light. She had devoted years to her mother, who had 
 faded away like a snowdrift, and gone in a night. There 
 were her brother and her church left, and they became 
 all to her. 
 
 "It is almost the doctor and Miss Neale over again," 
 Ardmore people said. 
 
 There was no sharpness in the sweet low register of 
 the voice, no frown had been allowed to settle in the 
 face, the mouth was gravely sweet. A woman doing her 
 duty in that state of life that had come to her, sweet, 
 cheerful, and never discouraged with small results. 
 Princess wondered how she could so relinquish any per- 
 sonal desires. She did not realize that between eighteen 
 and forty many desires have been gratified, many over- 
 lived, and that some of the lost sweetness of youth was 
 found again in riper middle life. But one of the perplex-
 
 152 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 ing questions of a conscientious young girl was how much 
 of herself belonged to the world, how much to the vine- 
 yard wherein all were workers. 
 
 The next morning's mail brought a delightful but 
 rather peremptory letter from her father. She was to 
 come at once, and take another taste of youthful pleas- 
 ure. 
 
 The children lamented loudly, and the little cousins at 
 Aunt Fanny's joined in the chorus. 
 
 "Princess is a lovely girl," Aunt Fanny said to her 
 mother. " But that is no reason why she should be 
 mewed up in a little round and miss the delight of 
 youth." 
 
 So Princess started on her journey, and was met with 
 a host of welcomes. And there were invitations enough 
 to last one a month at least. Mrs. Galbraith sent for 
 the girls to come and dine, and explained her plan. It 
 was not to be a mere professional entertainment, but a 
 delightful hour of music, and a luncheon afterward. Sev- 
 eral young society girls had responded readily to the re- 
 quest. A noted professor was to come in and make their 
 selections and give them a little training. A young 
 tenor, who was going abroad presently to perfect his 
 musical education would join them, and a choral club 
 would appear for a number or two. Ray belonged to the 
 club. 
 
 It was a great success. The musicale itself was given 
 for a charity. The large rooms were filled with a fash- 
 ionable audience, appreciative too. The young man's 
 singing was delightful. But Princess was really the star of 
 the occasion. She felt a little timid at first when she faced 
 her audience, but in a few moments forgot everything 
 except her own delight in singing, and her sweet, clear
 
 A FLOCK OF GIRLS. 153 
 
 voice had a tenderness in it that touched every heart. 
 She had to sing an encore, the guests would take no 
 merely pretty acknowledgment of their admiration. 
 
 " It was fine," said her father, who had run away from 
 business to listen, but he would not have missed it for a 
 great deal of business. " My little singing bird, you ac- 
 quitted yourself splendidly." 
 
 Her eyes shone with tender radiance. If mamma 
 could have been here ! 
 
 The luncheon was an immense success. That was for 
 the young people, and gayety reigned supreme with jests 
 and merry badinage and flashes of wit. 
 
 " Mrs. Galbraith is as fond of young people as Mrs. 
 Kenneth," said Violet Osborne. "In fact I have about 
 concluded that youth is admirable, even if it does perish 
 like a flower. Let us be sweet while we may." 
 
 They had lingered over the luncheon, then they had 
 gone back to the music-room and were singing for Mrs. 
 Galbraith's pleasure, when several cards were sent in to 
 her. 
 
 "Miss Amory," she said, "will you not come and 
 help me entertain. There are two friends of yours, — 
 Mr. Lane and Mr. Sevier. Perhaps you might like to 
 bring them out here." 
 
 "O yes," answered Pearl, eagerly. 
 
 There were several elderly guests. Pearl chatted 
 agreeably a few moments. Mr. Lane's was a short so- 
 ciety call, but Mr. Sevier, when he was gone, said, " I 
 heard your cousin, Miss Beaumanoir, was here. It was 
 very unkind in Mrs. Galbraith not to let us know about 
 the musicale. I just heard of it fifteen minutes or so ago." 
 
 " O, we did not expect to call in the busy men. And 
 it was unprofessional talent for a charity."
 
 154 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " I should so like to hear Miss Beaumanoir sing. She 
 has a beautiful voice, I have understood." 
 
 "You might be allowed to come out to the music- 
 room," said Pearl, archly. "I think you know most of 
 the lingerers. We are blooming alone as the admiring 
 throng are gone." 
 
 " It will afford me a great deal of pleasure." 
 
 He followed her with a sense of gratification. He had 
 hardly expected to see Miss Beaumanoir, but he would 
 at least learn where she was staying. Already she inter- 
 ested him deeply. 
 
 "A new audience," announced Pearl, with a gay sug- 
 gestiveness in her voice. "The elders are discussing a 
 reception at the British minister's, and as we frivolous 
 young people will not be invited, there is no use in sit- 
 ting down and bemoaning our fate. Let us rather take 
 the good the gods provide, and attend to our own enter- 
 tainment." 
 
 Mr. Sevier greeted the girls cordially. One young 
 fellow, a connection of Mrs. Galbraith remained, and 
 they had been having a frolic of words rather than music. 
 Paul Fielding had been in clover with a half dozen girls, 
 and now he gave a comical expression of dismay when 
 Mr. Sevier entered. 
 
 He bowed to them all, but crossed over to Princess. 
 She flushed with a certain pleasure, and a touch of em- 
 barrassment at being thus singled out. 
 
 " I am sorry I was not fortunate enough to be at the 
 musicale," he said, in a low tone. "Do you know that 
 I have never heard you sing, and everybody is talking 
 of your lovely voice. Music is one of my chief de- 
 lights." 
 
 She could understand that as she glanced up and met
 
 A FLOCK OF GIRLS. 155 
 
 his eyes suffused with a certain depth of feeling finer 
 than mere enthusiasm. 
 
 "You will favor us again, Miss Beaumanoir," said 
 Pearl, with a dignity that was impressive as well as amus- 
 ing. "There are some entertainments that are continu- 
 ous I believe, so let us institute that order of things. 
 We may never have a better chance. I am ready to sac- 
 rifice myself on the altar of accompaniments." 
 
 " O please be good enough to accept that offer and ac- 
 cede to my earnest wishes," pleaded Mr. Sevier. 
 
 The girls stood around. To them their cousin's sing- 
 ing was quite an everyday matter. She had never made 
 an exclusive gift of her voice. At home she had sung 
 with the birds. At school she was always ready to do 
 her part without considering that there was an unusual 
 quality that placed it at the head of ordinary efforts. 
 
 And now the sweet voice floated on the air like the 
 melody of twilight in summer, when bird and bee are 
 hushing the tired day to rest. It rose and fell with ex- 
 quisite harmony, a mysterious sweetness that touched 
 the soul and carried it along until it seemed to find rest 
 in some far land of peace. 
 
 The next song was gayer but the voice never lost its 
 refined melody, and as it went dancing over forest brooks 
 and flowery waysides where summer winds shook out 
 dainty ripples, it was still informed with magical sweet- 
 ness. 
 
 There was an interruption. 
 
 " The Amory carriage has come for the young ladies," 
 announced the servant. 
 
 Mrs. Galbraith followed. " It has been so delight- 
 ful," she began. "I shall grow younger every day that 
 I can persuade you to spend with me ; so you see what a
 
 156 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 good work you will do. The dial is set back oftener 
 than we think, though we cannot get rid of the years as 
 easily as the prophet did. And I do not quite know how 
 to express my obligation to you all " 
 
 " But you have given us a great deal of delight as 
 well," said Violet Osborne in the little pause she 
 made. "I am sure we are all grateful for a happy day, 
 and Princess has been drinking in the delicious draught 
 of admiration " 
 
 "I am glad I had something to give you," interposed 
 Princess, with an exquisite flush as she took Mrs. Gal- 
 braith's hand. 
 
 " I ought to express my pleasure as well. You have 
 given me a great treat, only I am afraid I shall want to 
 hear you again and again. Are you staying at the 
 Amorys ? " and Mr. Sevier's longing shone in his eyes. 
 
 " For a week. I am to be divided between them and 
 Uncle Stan wood," returned Princess. 
 
 " Then may I have the privilege of calling upon 
 you ? ' ' 
 
 There was the least little inflection on the last word. 
 
 Princess gave the permission with a quick breath as if 
 she understood something she wished had not been there, 
 and then colored vividly at her own thought. 
 
 The judge came over that evening to see how it had 
 fared with the luncheon and his pretty daughter, though 
 he had read all about it in the evening paper. 
 
 Pearl was full of interest and delight. Her mother 
 saw with satisfaction that her beauty was not likely to 
 make her envious of the graces and attainments of others. 
 Perhaps as Ray had once said, she had been used to it 
 all her life, and while she might be glad she had it, she 
 was not continually demanding the world should fall
 
 A FLOCK OF GIRLS. 
 
 *57 
 
 down and worship her to the exclusion of every one 
 else. 
 
 Mrs. Amory was proud in a certain fashion of her 
 firstborn, and yet she would have liked a more intellec- 
 tual pose, a real interest in the deeper things of life. 
 She understood very well that she would not have changed 
 her for any of the girls though Princess had immense 
 qualities of self-sacrifice, and as she knew Ray could rise 
 to heights of heroism, while Violet had an unmistakable 
 genius. But she was fond of beauty herself, and she 
 had always been a beautiful woman, neither silly nor vain. 
 And her son was bright, an eager scholar; and her 
 pretty ingenious Daisy was growing deeper into her 
 father's heart every day with her peculiar gifts. 
 
 "There is only one career for Pearl," she had said in 
 the summer, to Mrs. Drayton, "that is marriage. She is 
 not a sentimental girl, therefore much more likely to 
 make a good marriage. And after all, marriage seems 
 the natural destiny of women. Milly, were we more 
 heroic than the girls of to-day? You were, I think." 
 
 " Perhaps it was circumstances and the greater sim- 
 plicity of our lives. We used to talk of aims and pur- 
 poses, we were so proud of Bertram Carew, and oh, do 
 you remember what a pleasure-loving fellow Leonard 
 was, and how discouraged and disappointed father used 
 to feel ? And we thought Ned a regular prig." 
 
 "And I remember being tremendously vain of my 
 lovely golden hair and my beautiful complexion. Really, 
 I cannot blame Pearl. She has not much personal van- 
 ity, it is rather an assured knowledge of her own 
 charms. But there is something lacking to the young 
 people of the present day," and Mrs. Amory's brow 
 settled into thoughtful lines.
 
 158 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "I am sure," returned Millicent, "that Ray lived 
 nobly and wisely through a very sad tragedy. All of 
 life will have a higher purpose to her. And yet I should 
 not like to see her sacrifice all her young years — O 
 Violet, I am afraid we do think marriage the best career 
 for a woman and feel a little disappointed when she does 
 not achieve it." 
 
 " The most satisfactory career when it is happy. And 
 many of ours have been exceptionally so. Even Ethel 
 would have made a wretched single woman, unless she 
 had taken up art. She really had no enthusiasm for life. 
 I should be sorry to see Pearl repeat such a destiny." 
 
 "I do not think Pearl will. She has a great deal of 
 human love. I know I felt quite disappointed in Nora at 
 one time. I should have enjoyed her going to college 
 and distinguishing herself in some branch. But when I 
 see the strife for the high places, the ambitious envyings 
 and heart burnings, I am glad she has chosen the ordinary 
 course. She is a very happy wife and mother, and old 
 Mr. Mallory simply adores her. Perhaps when we look 
 back there is a glamour about our own youth because we 
 lived it. Our children may feel the same way years 
 hence." 
 
 " I really do think there was a higher and purer atmos- 
 phere. There was not quite such a mad whirl in society. 
 O, can you recall your betrothal party Aunt Lepage gave? 
 How beautiful we thought the house, and the function 
 really grand. And now the homes are palaces, and the 
 entertainments ape royalty. I am glad we have a position 
 outside of mere wealth, and that I do not need to enter 
 the lists for display. But I dread the coming winter and 
 my beautiful daughter. I must take in the other girls to 
 preserve my own mental poise."
 
 A FLOCK OF GIRLS. 159 
 
 Mrs. Amory was doing this quite to her own satisfac- 
 tion. She found that Pearl had very little desire to out- 
 shine her cousins. She liked a good time and plenty of 
 people to enjoy it with her, in the zest of youth. And 
 now she came home proud of her cousin's success, and 
 full of pleasure. 
 
 They looked over the invitations that had accumu- 
 lated. 
 
 "We can't take in two for the same night, when they 
 are at the same hour," she said, complainingly. " And 
 O, Princess, we must go to Mrs. Rheid's. I used to have 
 an idea that young men were of more account than 
 girls, but you would have a dull time with only one 
 sex." 
 
 "O, we didn't at school," declared Violet. 
 
 "That was in our salad days, when we could dance 
 with each other and did not have to be taken out to 
 dinner by a young man." 
 
 "But girls give luncheons and whist-parties " 
 
 " And dove-parties when they are about to be mar- 
 ried." 
 
 "And you can't marry each other." 
 
 "Girls couldn't afford it. The two that agree are 
 seldom rich enough." 
 
 " Have you any special girl in view, Pearl? " asked 
 Uncle Len, laughingly. 
 
 " Not just yet. But if I was Mrs. Galbraith, I would 
 want one. I would have to adopt her, I suppose. Uncle 
 Len, will you give up Princess to her ? " 
 
 " I think not," with a decisive shake of the head. 
 
 " She has sung her way into Mrs. Galbraith's heart." 
 
 "She sang her way into mine when she was very 
 little."
 
 160 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Princess came and put her arm around her father's 
 neck. 
 
 "And as she has never grown very large." said Pearl, 
 " she has kept it." 
 
 "She has grown just large enough never to get out," 
 returned the fond father. 
 
 The next morning while Princess and Violet were in 
 the studio, Pearl lounged among the soft cushions in her 
 mother's room, doing nothing and looking very much at 
 home. 
 
 "Mamma," she said, "should you feel very much 
 disappointed if I did not get engaged this winter?" 
 
 "Disappointed!" in a shocked tone. "Why I do 
 not want you — well, you are very young and will hardly 
 know enough to make up your own mind " 
 
 " That is just it. I do not want the trouble of making 
 up my mind or thinking about it at all. I just want a good 
 time without considering whether this one or that one is 
 eligible. There are a good many men very nice to dance 
 with that one wouldn't want to marry. And life is more 
 delightful if you don't have to think about it. I hate to 
 hear the girls balancing claims and saying mean things 
 about really nice young men, who truly may not care for 
 them at all. So if you shouldn't mind having a girl on 
 hand for two, maybe three seasons " 
 
 "I shall not mind." Mrs. Amory came and kissed 
 her daughter with all a mother's fervor and fear of the 
 time when she should want to go out of her life. " Have 
 your good time, dear, and wait until you understand a 
 little more of life." 
 
 "None of us are in a hurry," said Pearl, placidly. 
 " Ray thinks she will not be married at all. She is so 
 devoted to her father and Aunt Julia. Princess doesn't
 
 A FLOCK OF GIRLS. 161 
 
 say much about it, and we have decided that as a subject 
 it doesn't interest us at present." 
 
 " A very wise decision for girls not out of their teens; " 
 and the mother smiled.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 UNWISDOM. 
 
 THERE was a very bright gathering at Mrs. Town- 
 send's. They had been discussing the art ques- 
 tion, whether one required an education to understand it, 
 or whether the divine inspiration was an education in 
 itself, and whether all the glorious past of art, with the 
 study of technique was capable of making an artist, with 
 the hard work necessary. 
 
 Some one said genius was the capacity for interpreting 
 the accumulated art of the past ; another declared the 
 artist must draw his inspiration from nature and work in 
 her creative spirit if he touched the heart of the people. 
 Mr. Murray was listening and putting in a trenchant sen- 
 tence now and then. 
 
 "The worst of you, Con Murray," said Mrs. Town- 
 send, afterward, "is that you begin by a strong leaning 
 on one side and rejoice the souls of that party, and finish 
 up on the other, leaving a confusion of opinion." 
 
 Sherburne Beaumanoir was always interested when 
 party spirit ran high and most of the guests were in the 
 centre of the room. Miss Maurice sat at the tea-table, 
 Miss Sharply, a newspaper woman, had the coffee. 
 Two or three tea-drinkers gravitated to Miss Maurice 
 and made long calls. One was an artist and Sherburne 
 had come to hate him, but to-night he was in the thick 
 of the fray. 
 
 "I am glad you are not art mad," he said, "though 
 I don't mind the rest having a severe attack. I could 
 
 162
 
 UNWISDOM. 163 
 
 get scarcely a word with you the other evening, and on 
 Tuesday you were out." 
 
 "Yes. I had to attend to a matter for Mrs. Town- 
 send." 
 
 "Are you never alone? Don't you ever have any 
 time of your own ? ' ' said the young man in a complain- 
 ing tone. 
 
 " O yes," cheerfully. "I read no end of novels in 
 my leisure. I think sometimes I could write a very good 
 review. ' ' 
 
 "O, leave that for Miss Sharply, with the coffee." 
 
 "The tea did not seem so attractive. I am the sort 
 of stop gap." 
 
 "I'm glad you came over here. One can find you 
 once in awhile." 
 
 "I can be found quite often in my proper place," 
 with a conventional laugh. 
 
 "I wish you wouldn't put it that way. And Mrs. 
 Townsend isn't ' ' 
 
 " Mrs. Townsend isn't anything sharp or selfish or ar- 
 bitrary, and everything that is delightful. You shall not 
 say a word against her." 
 
 " I was not going to. You do take one up so. You 
 are not as nice as you used to be." 
 
 "Am I not? I am growing older and wiser." 
 
 She was very much engrossed in balancing a tiny tea- 
 spoon on the edge of the Doulton cup. When it finally 
 settled she very carefully dropped one drop from another 
 teaspoon with the most delicate care. 
 
 "Are you trying a charm? " he inquired. 
 
 "Yes. Telling my fortune." Another drop went 
 down very softly and the bowl of the spoon trembled 
 slightly.
 
 164 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "That is two years," she said, recklessly, "and that 
 three." 
 
 Down went the spoon. 
 
 "I cannot marry under three years," with confident 
 emphasis. "I am glad women have outgrown the no- 
 tion that they must be married at twenty. I think thirty 
 would be better." 
 
 " Try it for me." 
 
 " O, you must try for yourself. It would not be your 
 fortune." 
 
 Sherburne's attempts were ludicrously futile. 
 
 "Well, it doesn't matter," he said, in a tone of dis- 
 gust. " The great thing is your fortune. And in three 
 years " 
 
 Mr. Murray's mellow laugh floated across to them, 
 and there was a sudden disintegration of the group. 
 Several were coming over for a farewell cup of tea. 
 
 "Uncle Con has won his point whatever it is," said 
 Sherburne. " Did you ever remark how often he does 
 it? And he isn't real aggressive, either." 
 
 ' ' Another cup of your nice tea, if you please, Miss 
 Maurice. And Miss Gaines will you indulge — " said 
 one of the guests, pausing at the table. 
 
 " If you won't quote the old adage, for / think tea 
 does inebriate if you drink enough. And brandy might 
 not if you put a teaspoonful in a glass of water," re- 
 turned the lady. 
 
 "Which side won?" asked Miss Maurice, with a 
 smile that looked like fervent interest. 
 
 " O, it was a sort of draw game, as arguments usually 
 are," returned Mr. Deane. "The ardent believers in 
 inspiration are sure an artist must be born, like a poet, 
 the steady going plodding people with an immense
 
 UNWISDOM. 165 
 
 amount of ambition believe all things possible, and often 
 do surprise their friends by their achievements. As for 
 me, I consider both necessary. Nothing can be done in 
 the long run without labor and perseverance. Does 
 making a good cup of tea come from repeated trials of 
 how much tea to so much boiling water, Miss Maurice ? " 
 
 "No," answered Gertrude. "It depends largely on 
 the quality of the tea, and the taste of the drinker." 
 
 "Then I shall consider my taste a valuable accessory 
 to the enjoyment. And the pourer of the tea — doesn't 
 she come in for some share ? ' ' 
 
 " If a young man is very much in love with her he be- 
 lieves he is drinking nectar. Then one can use poor 
 and cheap teas. The trouble is there are so few young 
 men in love with one woman, that, as an economic prob- 
 lem, it is not a success." 
 
 "Sherburne," said Uncle Con, "have you a real de- 
 light and fervent interest in the study of medicine ? If 
 not, it will be tough work." 
 
 " Do you think I have no perseverance? " 
 
 "Perseverance and some knowledge might build a 
 house. Still I have hopes of you. You do not write 
 
 "But I have translated from Latin and Greek, and 
 used my own ingenuity, talent you might call it," said 
 the young man, a little nettled. 
 
 The guests were beginning to disperse. Those who 
 had talked the most were declaring they had had a de- 
 lightful evening and saying, "Dear Mrs. Townsend." 
 Others waited until they were on the sidewalk to an- 
 nounce that they liked general topics better, there were 
 so many opinionated people among artists. 
 
 "Come, Sherburne," said Uncle Con.
 
 166 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 The young man rose reluctantly. Gertrude had 
 drained her urn and declared herself bankrupt. She said 
 good-night to some of the guests who thought her worth 
 that honor. 
 
 Sherburne leaned a little over her shoulder. "Three 
 years," he whispered. " I shall carry away that comfort 
 with me." 
 
 A quick rift of color went up her face. She put out 
 her hand to Mr. Murray without looking at him, and 
 said good-night in a more effusive manner than she had 
 meant to. 
 
 Mrs. Townsend still looked fresh and spirited. The 
 maid came in to clear away the things. 
 
 " Why didn't you send young Beaumanoir to join the 
 discussion?" the elder lady asked. 
 
 " I do not think he cared for it." 
 
 " But he may have some second-hand knowledge 
 gleaned from his uncle. Young people amuse me, they 
 consider their thoughts new discoveries. Well, perhaps 
 we all do. I suppose in working over the century old 
 ideas our circumstances and surroundings do give us new 
 points of view, and that is where talking does one good 
 — if you can dispossess your mind of the belief that our 
 elders did not know it quite all. The arguments amused 
 me. But I kept one eye on you, Gertrude, and Mr. 
 Murray kept one on his nephew. Do not get sentimen- 
 tal over the young man." 
 
 "I am not likely to," returned Gertrude, with a short 
 laugh. 
 
 "And now let us run off to bed, or else we shall get 
 no beauty sleep." 
 
 Gertrude did not get any. She was thinking foolishly 
 enough of Sherburne Beaumanoir. Not in any sense of
 
 UNWISDOM. 167 
 
 special attraction so far as she was concerned. She had 
 been amused all along by his sudden fancy. That it 
 would die out she felt assured. And yet it had not. 
 There had been other young men who enjoyed chatting 
 with her. And by this time she had learned that with- 
 out special beauty, without either wealth or position she 
 could marry very well. But she did enjoy her present 
 life and her liberty. 
 
 For a month back Sherburne's attentions had been 
 rather pronounced. Ten days before this he had brought 
 tickets for her and Mrs. Townsend to see a new star in a 
 play that was to be on only for a week. The very next 
 morning tickets for the next evening had come from Mr. 
 Murray, who would meet them at the theatre later on in 
 the evening. 
 
 " I do suppose the young fellow will feel awfully dis- 
 appointed, and we have accepted. And Mr. Murray is 
 an old friend and a good standby. But we must not 
 really encourage the youth in this extravagance, since his 
 father has to pay for it. Can we stand both nights ? " 
 
 The play was very well acted. Sherburne was proud 
 and delighted and manly enough for thirty instead of 
 twenty. And the next night they enjoyed it again, the 
 latter half with Mr. Murray's criticisms. Then he came 
 in and had some coffee and cold turkey with them. 
 
 Since then Sherburne had really haunted her. Was 
 he in earnest? That startled her. Under any circum- 
 stances it would be unwisdom. She liked his youth and 
 brightness and impetuosity with the young side of her 
 nature, but such an entanglement was out of the ques- 
 tion. Five years from this they would both find out 
 their mistake if they made one, which she did not mean 
 to do. She felt years older and wiser in experience now,
 
 1 68 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 and yet she had to admit she had hardly seen as much 
 of the world. 
 
 Underneath all there was a little sense of triumph. It 
 was mean and unwomanly she admitted. They had all 
 been uniformly cordial to her, and she did like Mr. and 
 Mrs. Drayton wonderfully. Mrs. Carew was more closely 
 occupied with her children and her charities, and some- 
 how she stood a little in awe of the doctor. 
 
 Surely she did not want to triumph over sweet, darling 
 Princess, who had so generously made amends for one 
 overt look, one bit of meaning that could not have been 
 clothed in words. No, she would rather do the bitterest 
 penance. 
 
 Down deep in her heart, where it could scarcely make 
 a protest, there lay the true reason — a coquette's reason. 
 Would Constantine Murray care? Would he come to 
 the rescue ? Whether he had any real regard for her 
 
 It was unromantic, but she fell asleep over this perplex- 
 ing question, and awoke unrefreshed. Then she had a 
 very busy day. 
 
 "You look tired and faded, Gertrude," said Mrs. 
 Townsend, late in the afternoon. " Go out and take a 
 good, brisk walk. It is not too late for the park if you 
 keep in the traveled paths." 
 
 " Yes," answered the girl. There was a heavy feeling 
 in her head, as if it might ache presently. 
 
 She walked swiftly to the park. The keen, fresh air 
 was bracing. There had been a little snow and some of 
 the clumps of shrubbery had a white half-circle on the 
 north side where the sun had not touched it. The ever- 
 greens stood out fresh and courageous. There was a 
 cold, yellow light edged with greyish lavender in the 
 western sky, too dense for the setting sun to peer through.
 
 UNWISDOM. 169 
 
 She had been afraid since three, that Sherburne Beau- 
 manoir would drop in. If Mrs. Townsend did not need 
 her she would go around to Mrs. Kenneth's in the even- 
 ing. It was better to be careful. 
 
 "My dear Gertrude," said a voice that was almost 
 husky with gratification. 
 
 She stopped short. The " Gertrude " had an easy, fa- 
 miliar sound, as if he was quite used to it. And then he 
 drew her hand through his arm with an air of posses- 
 sion. 
 
 " How fortunate I am in meeting you. Are you going 
 on any special errand ? " 
 
 It was not necessary to say he had been on the watch 
 for the last two hours ; and that for some blocks he had 
 been keeping her in sight, wondering at her flying steps 
 and whether her quest was an important one. 
 
 " I was out for a constitutional. I have been writing 
 nearly all day." 
 
 " Then it is fortunate that I met you. It will soon be 
 dusk." 
 
 "And dinner time. So I am not out for long," she 
 returned, with a brisk kind of gaiety, and a slight effort 
 at disengaging her arm, but he only held it the tighter. 
 She would not emphasize it by any resistance. 
 
 " Did you dream of me last night?" 
 
 "I? No. I do not spend my time dreaming. My 
 nights are for sleep. And when it is so late the nights 
 are none too long." 
 
 "I thought of you before I went to sleep." 
 
 " That was the tea. And it was the reason why you 
 dreamed." 
 
 "No, it was not," rather vexed. "I mean the tea 
 was not. There was a better one."
 
 170 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "What a queer fashion — drinking tea and coffee be- 
 tween whiles," in a light, indifferent tone. 
 
 "It is very social. In old times people had cider, and 
 occasionally something more convivial." 
 
 " Are you going to remain in the city during the holi- 
 days ? " he asked, after a moment or two of silence, in 
 which he felt she was really hurrying his steps. 
 
 " O no. Mrs. Townsend is due to speak at some fair 
 or entertainment for a home to shelter worn-out and 
 broken-down women. If she loved individual women 
 more she would have a big house and take them in. She 
 works for them in the aggregate. She entertains them 
 largely for their own pleasure. And she visits a few 
 friends out of pure delight and gratification. She has 
 accepted two of these invitations to-day, and she kindly 
 takes me along. Her real friends are of the delightful, 
 lovable sort. I like them." 
 
 " I was thinking whether I would stay or not. Father 
 insists upon our both coming home." 
 
 " Then you must go ; " in a rather peremptory fashion. 
 
 " I shouldn't if you were going to stay." 
 
 " I have nothing to do with it. You are not of age 
 and are still supposed to be under the care of pastors 
 and masters and fathers and all your household rela- 
 tions." 
 
 "Why do you not go home? You are not of age, 
 either," he said, laughingly. 
 
 "Because my father respects my business engagement, 
 and there are girls enough at home without me. Then — 
 I am needed." 
 
 " I wish you were not so business-y. You were your 
 own charming self last night. And — why are you in 
 such a hurry ? ' '
 
 UNWISDOM. 171 
 
 There was a sound of imperious complaint in his tone. 
 
 "A constitutional to do you good must be taken rap- 
 idly. It is like shaking up a bottle of medicine. And 
 then — it is growing late." 
 
 "It is dark early, cloudy beside." 
 
 " I have ever so much to say to you — " with a pause 
 as if he was not quite ready to begin. 
 
 " Keep it until you come back from Sherburne House. 
 If it is good it will improve by age, if of little account 
 you may be glad you did not say it." 
 
 " I mean to say it," he began, resolutely, holding 
 back her rapid step. "It is of great account to me. 
 Gertrude, I love you." 
 
 She might have been wiser weeks ago. Was she alto- 
 gether blameless ? 
 
 "Do you hear? I love you. I want you for my 
 wife. Your fortune last night said three years. If you 
 will promise, I will go to work at once in real earnest. I 
 shall have the strongest, the most splendid incentive a 
 young man can have. I was fascinated with you that 
 day last summer, do you remember? I've not seen any 
 one since, indeed you have never been out of my 
 thoughts." 
 
 "How many were there before?" she asked, in a 
 caustic tone, giving a short, mocking laugh. 
 
 " Gertrude, you are cruel. There never was any one 
 before." 
 
 " Not in the two German years? And German dam- 
 sels are fascinating in their simplicity." 
 
 He could remember one who was very fascinating, a 
 professor's daughter. A wise mamma had removed her 
 from any further intimacy with the delightful American. 
 But he never would have made it a serious matter.
 
 172 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " Why, I was nothing but a boy. Marriage — betrothal 
 never entered my mind. And I am not planning mar- 
 riage now. I shall wait until I have a certainty to offer 
 you. They all like you, so you cannot urge that. Why 
 you icere the queen of the entertainment last summer. 
 I saw that at a glance. Bert just adores you, and Mrs. 
 Kenneth enjoys your visits so much. And you haven't 
 any real lovers " 
 
 " Don't be too sure. Now give me a chance to talk. 
 You are too young to consider such a serious subject. 
 Even if you do love, an engagement would be the worst 
 possible step. It would divide your interest, which you 
 do need for your studies. If a girl loved you she would 
 want some attention, if she did not have such a true and 
 unselfish regard for you, she would still demand the out- 
 ward signs of the inward grace. Probably in three years' 
 time you would be mutually disenchanted. That on 
 general principles. With me the first objection is — I do 
 not love you. I like you very much. In my heart and 
 with my tongue I do you full justice. You are a charm- 
 ing and attractive young fellow. But I am years older 
 than you " 
 
 "Some months younger," he interrupted, caustically. 
 
 " Older in experience, older in heart and soul, older 
 in all the sweet hopes and dreams and beliefs that young 
 girls have, that are so deliciously attractive when one 
 comes to love-making. And you do not want the moth- 
 erly affection that would darn your stockings and sew on 
 your buttons and watch the kettle between your kisses 
 like the wife Jean Paul tells about. I can't explain it to 
 you, but probably in a few years I should be bored with 
 youth." 
 
 "But I should be growing older. And with Uncle
 
 UNWISDOM. 173 
 
 Bert to train me and keep me up to the best in manhood, 
 for although he is exigent and sometimes brings a fellow 
 up with a jerk, he is grand and noble. O, don't you 
 see, Gertrude, that I could make a splendid future for you 
 if you would be my inspiration. And if you don't love 
 any one else " 
 
 What if she did ? The men were quite given to hov- 
 ering about her and drinking either coffee or tea when 
 she poured it. 
 
 She was silent. 
 
 " Do you love any one else? " tentatively. 
 
 He drew a long breath that seemed to bring his heart 
 up to his very throat and half strangle him. 
 
 "I have no lover if that is what you mean." 
 
 She meant her voice to be cold and indifferent, it was 
 merely husky. 
 
 "No, that is not my question," he flung out, half 
 angrily. " Half a dozen lovers wouldn't be dangerous 
 to my peace of mind if there was not one among them 
 (hat jou loved. Why can't you answer the question ? " 
 
 "I am not in love with any one." Her voice was 
 cold and sharp now. " There was a young fellow at 
 Robin's Point who used to drop into sentimentalisms, 
 but he is married. I am not much given to sentiment 
 myself. That is where the age of my soul or my mind, 
 or whatever the inward guidance is, comes in. Now I 
 have told you all about myself. Let us forget this fool- 
 ishness as soon as possible, and be pleasant friends again, 
 or the acquaintance must end." 
 
 "It is not foolishness with me as you will find, but a 
 very real love. ' ' 
 
 "Then I am more than sorry." 
 
 " And until you do have a lover — oh, if you are not
 
 174 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 thinking of any one else, can you not give me a little 
 thought? And if I should not change except to grow 
 manlier " 
 
 Gertrude Maurice wondered what decisive thing she 
 could say. He had an infinite trust and belief in him- 
 self. And how could she extricate herself from this di- 
 lemma and keep the peace all around ? 
 
 " Listen to me," she interposed. "I have no lover, 
 but I have an ideal — most women are foolish enough to 
 cherish one and this is a figment of the youth that I 
 never had. And you are not my ideal. But you may 
 be the ideal of some sweeter, better girl who will give 
 you the worship of her whole soul. You will understand 
 better as the years go on and I dare say some time we 
 will laugh over this episode, and you will be glad you 
 were not led into the folly of youthful engagement by a 
 designing woman." 
 
 His temper had been rising and now he was angry, 
 hurt as well. 
 
 "You may laugh," he returned, stiffly. "But I pur- 
 pose to show you that mine is something better than 
 a boy's love. You are not done with me." 
 
 Gertrude had no reply ready that was forcible enough 
 to end the matter. They walked on in silence. It was 
 quite dark now, except for the street lamps. Then 
 they turned the corner and here was the familiar stoop. 
 
 "Good-night," she said. 
 
 He simply bowed and walked slowly toward his 
 uncle's. Somehow he was not quite dispirited, and now 
 that she was away from him her power of conviction 
 grew less. He had a confused notion that a woman 
 could learn to love when she was beloved, and that steady 
 persistence would win her. And he plumed himself on
 
 UNWISDOM. 175 
 
 a good deal of mannish judgment in his selection, since 
 she was not one of the sweet, gushing, adoring sort. He 
 liked her brightness and that air of the world and wis- 
 dom and experience. And a woman just past twenty 
 was in the very bloom of youth. 
 
 As for Gertrude she comforted herself with the 
 thought that young men do soon forget. She had met 
 Ward Garrison and his wife, and they were still in the 
 bonds of sentiment. Yet she could not help feeling a 
 little flattered by Sherburne's preference and persistence, 
 and the fact that he had fallen in love at first sight, and 
 kept his regard for six months. How did she know it 
 was not the best love of a man's life? And she had en- 
 couraged his attentions at different times. They had 
 never seemed to pique the one at whom they were aimed. 
 
 Twenty was not old, but she seemed in her real living 
 to have gone so far beyond these young people who kept 
 crossing and recrossing her path, as if her life was in 
 some mysterious manner bound up with theirs. How 
 she had longed to be one of them that summer at Mel- 
 chias. Perhaps then she would have accepted Sherburne 
 Beaumanoir, if they had all taken her in cordially. 
 
 O no, it would have been unwisdom to lay a burthen 
 on his young life, and she felt no one would have ap- 
 proved. But she was very lonely to-night. Once in a 
 while the desire came to her to be very dear to some one, 
 and she knew that was having a lover who suited her, 
 adored her supremely. It is one of the dreams of youth 
 and then represents the best thing in the world. 
 
 But she roused herself. She had not finished buying 
 her Christmas things to send home. She really did not 
 care to go herself. They were all well and Virgie was 
 growing much stronger, Agnes wrote. And Agnes
 
 i;6 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 seemed so busy, so content, so sensible, fitted to her 
 niche without any friction. What mysterious power 
 beside love could do this ? 
 
 Luella was improving, beginning to take a real interest 
 in her studies. Young Adams had gone to Philadelphia 
 to be brought up in business. Elsie was taking a fancy 
 to housekeeping. And then followed a list of the most 
 needed things to be sent in the Christmas box, good and 
 useful. She checked off what she had already pur- 
 chased, she added a few others to the list, and resolved 
 to get them off on the morrow, glad that it was in her 
 power to send out a little delight. 
 
 She half envied the women in homes who were busy 
 and happy, and who were anchored to a definite faith 
 and duty. Amusement did not look half as interesting 
 as it had a few days ago. Its gayety was evanescent. 
 
 "I must be a good deal older than my years," she 
 sighed.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 AND THEN CONSIDERATION. 
 
 QHERBURNE BEAUMANOIR went home as his 
 ^ father desired, and he was not much discomfited by 
 his first rejection, since every one was delighted to see 
 him, and the young girls about showed their pleasure and 
 adoration so plainly. There was nothing overt or for- 
 ward in this, they were to have him only for a short 
 time, and they were not going to waste a day of it. No 
 one exactly expected to win him, yet such a thing might 
 be possible. And they wanted the pleasure and enjoy- 
 ment to talk over afterward with girlish interest. 
 
 So every day his spirits rose and Gertrude seemed less 
 of an impossibility. When the matter was really settled 
 he would plunge into his studies with new ardor. Yet at 
 times there came a curious misgiving to him. Certain 
 theories in regard to medicine that he had read of and 
 listened to abroad, and Uncle Carew's position at home 
 had fired his enthusiasm. But between the first years of 
 hard study, oftentimes quite disagreeable, and that fine 
 position there would be many years of hard work. He 
 could imagine himself lecturing like Uncle Carew, travel- 
 ing about and addressing conventions, but to plod along 
 day and night as Bertram and Professor Kenneth were 
 doing from an enthusiasm he did not understand, 
 seemed irksome. Even his cousin, Ned Beaumanoir, 
 cared little for pleasure and less for admiration. But he 
 should want the world to look at what he did. He could 
 
 177
 
 178 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 not be content to hide his light under a bushel and wait 
 until the discrimination of the world overturned the 
 bushel. 
 
 And he measured these sweet, eager, simple-hearted 
 girls who knew so little out of their narrow round, with 
 the woman of the world, much to their detriment, and it 
 seemed to set her on a higher pedestal. She had a cer- 
 tain style if she was not really beautiful like his Cousin 
 Pearl. Then her dark eyes and her great masses of 
 light hair gave her a distinguished look. She was so 
 ready to talk, she said so many bright things, and some- 
 times a bit of real wit flashed out. She had a knack of 
 bringing out other people when she made an effort, and 
 harmonizing incongruous elements. Mrs. Townsend had 
 found her of great service in this respect. Gertrude had 
 taken it up as one of her duties, and oftentimes it 
 amused her, quite as if she was trying experiments with 
 different natures. 
 
 Sherburne thought he should want a wife that the 
 world could admire, like Aunt Millicent. Mamma and 
 Aunt Lyndell were rather too devoted to family matters 
 and the children, and at present the young man's mind 
 had not turned to domesticity. So he found in Gertrude 
 many of the things he believed suited to his needs. 
 
 Meanwhile Mrs. Townsend and her secretary made 
 their visits, and there followed a call to Boston. Sher- 
 burne found the city rather dull, for he had not made 
 many real society friends. Uncle Bert had protested 
 against this. 
 
 " You cannot be up late at night and have your brains 
 in a whirl of excitement and study at the same time. In 
 a certain manner I am answerable to your father for your 
 progress."
 
 AND THEN CONSIDERATION. 179 
 
 Uncle Con had been a little wary as well. There were 
 many temptations in the city for an attractive young 
 man, who as yet had not learned the real value of money 
 and was not earning it himself, therefore had no right to 
 fritter it away. They went to lunch together occasion- 
 ally, and now Sherburne dropped into Uncle Con's 
 rooms, — he had not yet set up his housekeeping scheme. 
 He thought once or twice it would be a grand thing to 
 have Mrs. Townsend come and matronize a party of 
 girls, he was so fond of giving pleasure. But the girls he 
 wanted most seemed to be engrossed with their own 
 home duties and pleasures, even Princess, who had writ- 
 ten that she should give most of this year to her mother. 
 Was Princess still a little hurt that he had a tender regard 
 for another? Somehow her letters had been rather seri- 
 ous of late. He was glad she was having some gayety in 
 Washington. 
 
 As for himself he had hesitated a little at taking the 
 young life he wanted in his own keeping altogether. 
 Princess might come and find a lover and happiness and 
 go her way. Gertrude could not go her way if she found 
 dissatisfactions. He had a man's belief that he could 
 make her love him, but he knew alas ! that love and 
 happiness were not always synonymous in the long run. 
 He had seen too much of life and waited too long to 
 throw away his chance on uncertainty. 
 
 Gertrude was attractive. She could win the regard of 
 a younger man. She had many charming society ways. 
 And though when they first met she betrayed a quick 
 rush of delight that thrilled him, the very next time she 
 was quite distant and really indifferent. He was waiting 
 for some sign, some little betrayal of self that girls nearly 
 always made. Mrs. Townsend's half advice, half com-
 
 180 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 ment had weighed with him even more than he 
 thought. 
 
 "She is very young compared to yourself," the lady 
 had said, "I think she ought to have some chance to 
 know her own mind. On the other hand," laughingly, 
 " I suppose you are aware, Con Murray, that many a girl 
 would be proud to capture such an obdurate campaigner 
 as yourself. But you are not quite old enough to be 
 satisfied with that sort of admiration." 
 
 So he had watched her narrowly. Sometimes she felt 
 it and really flirted with whoever happened to be nearest, 
 made herself charming and interesting to some one of 
 note. There might have been lovers in one or two in- 
 stances, and then all his regard rose in a flame, but she 
 turned cold as if she understood. She evidently was not 
 on the lookout for a chance to marry. He knew girls 
 and women pretty well. 
 
 And as he and Sherburne sat over a dainty little sup- 
 per they talked round to Mrs. Townsend. 
 
 "Do you know when they are coming home?" the 
 young fellow asked eagerly. " Or are they going all 
 round the world now that they have started ? ' ' 
 
 The last was uttered in a resentful manner as if he had 
 some interest at stake. 
 
 "I had a note from them this morning. I had asked 
 Mrs. Townsend for the report of a meeting. But no 
 mention was made of their return." 
 
 " I suppose Miss Maurice always writes the letters ? " 
 was the next comment. 
 
 "O no, not always. But reports and articles of vari- 
 ous kinds." 
 
 " I think she ought to have some credit. Uncle Con, 
 don't you consider her a rather unusual girl ? "
 
 AND THEN CONSIDERATION. 181 
 
 "There's a good deal of work done in this world in 
 which the party of the first part doesn't get the credit. 
 I have been there myself," said Uncle Con, drily. 
 
 "I wonder — she could do something better than that. 
 Seems to me, Uncle Con, you might find a place for her. 
 She is ever so much brighter than the average girl." 
 
 " I think her place a very good one. It may not 
 afford scope for all her talents, but she has the protection 
 of a woman of the world, who is an excellent friend to 
 any young girl. And she sees a good deal of society. 
 Her duties are not very onerous." 
 
 Sherburne mused a little. Yes, she would be safer 
 there the next three or four years, and after all one didn't 
 want the woman he intended to marry to be running 
 round the world. But he wondered if Mrs. Townsend 
 really appreciated her ! 
 
 "The Kenneths like her so much. Bertram is quite 
 gone on her." He laughed a little but his face had a 
 momentary flush like a rose. 
 
 " Are you there — often ? " 
 
 " Quite often. Uncle Bert is rather queer about 
 some things, going out I mean, but he is always sure I 
 am in good company there, and at Mrs. Townsend' s." 
 
 " You hear a good deal of theoretical nonsense talked 
 at Mrs. Townsend's. Experienced people can pick out 
 the grains of wheat from among the chaff." 
 
 "O, I don't care much for the nonsense. I like 
 talking to Miss Maurice better," said the young fellow, 
 naively. 
 
 Uncle Con watched him as he deftly peeled an orange. 
 He suddenly recalled many little events that seemed to 
 betray the boy's fancy — was he anything more than a 
 boy at twenty? He had the making of a splendid man,
 
 1 82 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 he was fine and attractive now in the body, intelligent 
 and capable of making his mark in the world. It would 
 not do to have all this thrown away on a love affair and 
 set himself back years. 
 
 But Gertrude — how would she look at it ? 
 
 It was undeniable that there was a charm in kindred 
 youth. They had seen a good deal of each other. He 
 kept revolving the subject in his mind as he tried to draw 
 out the younger's real sentiments with his air of gay in- 
 difference, but Sherburne was wary and kept to general 
 terms. Still youth is indiscreet in its very honesty and 
 courage, and Uncle Con was aware of something that 
 had missed his discerning eyes. 
 
 What if Gertrude really cared for him ? He had an 
 idea that point was still an uncertain quantity. Sher- 
 burne would have been more elated. Still it was evident 
 he cared for her to the verge of love. But then it was a 
 boy's love. 
 
 He was away for two or three days, when Mrs. Town- 
 send returned. He came in town at noon, and went 
 around there in the evening, leaving piles of work and 
 letters on his desk. And to-night Gertrude was at the 
 coffee-table, and it seemed to her people had a sudden 
 and insane fancy for tea. Sherburne Beaumanoir sat 
 beside her, and Mrs. Langham was discoursing on 
 Wagner to the young people. It was a rather musical 
 evening. 
 
 Gertrude was surprised to see Sherburne walk in jaun- 
 tily and self-possessed. 
 
 " I've ever so many messages for you," he began, in a 
 soft, clear tone, that disarmed her. " How long you 
 stayed away ? Bertram is quite heart-broken, and Mrs. 
 Kenneth wondering. Princess sent oceans of love."
 
 AND THEN CONSIDERATION. 183 
 
 "Thank you," she returned, gravely. He had the 
 aplomb of a society man. 
 
 When two people had gone away, he bent over to her, 
 and said in a low tone : 
 
 "I have accepted your proffer. Let it be friendship 
 between us." 
 
 Then Mrs. Langham had come. Sherburne sat smil- 
 ing and supremely happy. Friendship would be the 
 golden key of entrance again, and he was wise enough to 
 accept it for the present. And then Mr. Murray marched 
 in. 
 
 " You are just the person we wanted to settle a diffi- 
 culty," said Mrs. Townsend. "Come over here at 
 once. It is whether Nordau has been just to Wagner. 
 Of course we are all fascinated with the operas, and peo- 
 ple in love with one quality may not be good judges of 
 all. Love does make one narrow-minded." 
 
 " O, I must go and hear what Mr. Murray has to say," 
 and Mrs. Langham left them. 
 
 " We ought to go too," said Gertrude, half rising. 
 
 " O, we can hear all we want to over here. And I 
 have so much to say. Was your journey pleasant ? You 
 can't think how I wanted to see you again." 
 
 Gertrude glanced toward the group of talkers. Mr. 
 Murray's eyes were fixed upon her, and with a curious 
 severity that roused a rebellious spirit within her. Part 
 of it was for the argument some one had advanced, but 
 she did not know that, and resented it with a little mo- 
 tion like a toss of the head, and smiled. 
 
 " Yes. You needn't look so incredulous. It is the 
 people that make a place for me. It has been a dreary 
 week. I couldn't half study. But now I am going at it 
 in good earnest."
 
 1 84 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " Is that a perfectly new remark? We are supposed 
 and expected to bring out our best original thought here 
 on Saturday night, and it seems as if I had heard it be- 
 fore." 
 
 He laughed. "We cannot reiterate useful and per- 
 tinent thoughts too often." 
 
 " You must put it into practice." 
 
 "I am going to do that. You will see. I shall work 
 for your commendation." 
 
 "You must burn midnight oil," she said, senten- 
 tiously. 
 
 The eyes were still upon her. She felt them now and 
 flushed, and the listener not knowing the cause, hugged 
 it to his heart as an omen. 
 
 "We are worse than the foolish virgins, we have 
 neither lamps nor oil," he commented with, a soft, de- 
 lighted laugh. "Sometimes I get sleepy over the prosy 
 old tomes and then I think of my inspiration." 
 
 She made no answer to that. 
 
 " Do you like medicine ? " 
 
 " What a question to ask a grown person. Childhood 
 has to be martyred on the shrine." 
 
 "O, I meant the profession — you knew that." 
 
 " I shouldn't want to study it myself. I can't under- 
 stand a woman's desire to be a physician." 
 
 "A woman ought never be anything but the centre 
 of a home. Men are put into the world for the hard 
 work." 
 
 "I have seen some women work pretty hard in the 
 home centre. And there are more women than men, so 
 every one cannot marry. However, women can keep 
 house together." 
 
 " But you will admit they are happier married."
 
 AND THEN CONSIDERATION. 185 
 
 Why must they keep skirmishing around the edge of 
 sentiment ? She rejoined, sharply 
 
 " There is a good deal of infelicity." 
 
 "Then it is not the truest or best love," said the wise 
 young philosopher. "Don't you suppose I should use 
 every effort to make you happy if I were fortunate 
 enough to win you ? ' ' 
 
 His tone was pleading, his eyes shone with a softened 
 light. 
 
 " If you cannot keep to friendship our pact is broken," 
 she answered, decisively. 
 
 "I mean to. But I cannot help thinking of what 
 might make me supremely happy, even if I have to put 
 it in the far future. There they have settled Wagner 
 and are coming for coffee. O Uncle Con ! " 
 
 He rose as he spoke, but the satisfied glow still lighted 
 up his face and shone in his fine eyes. He was an at- 
 tractive fellow, with all the charms of youth. 
 
 Gertrude was smiling and amiable, but inwardly re- 
 sented the questioning look in the elder's eyes. 
 
 Others followed. Some one began to play, the guests 
 hovered about the tea and coffee-tables. In the pauses 
 Gertrude exerted herself to be bright and chatty. Sher- 
 burne lingered within her radius, but there was no further 
 chance for asides. He did not much mind, for he was 
 quite convinced that his evening had been a success in 
 reestablishing a bridge over which friendship might one 
 day cross to love, meanwhile keeping to a discreet bound- 
 ary. 
 
 "Come," Uncle Con said, as the guests were begin- 
 ning to depart. 
 
 The good-nights were graciously formal. Gertrude 
 felt strangely angry at herself.
 
 1 86 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Mr. Murray and his nephew walked to the corner where 
 Sherburne halted. 
 
 "I will go on with you," the senior said. "Sher- 
 burne," after a pause, " are you falling in love with Miss 
 Maurice?" 
 
 "I am not falling," with a sort of happy emphasis ; 
 " only as a man goes on and on " 
 
 "It is foolish business, and you are too young. And 
 she?" 
 
 Sherburne did not answer. He was a little indignant. 
 
 "You know it must be years before you can marry. 
 To keep a girl waiting so long is a hard thing, harder 
 even on her. And has Miss Maurice consented ? You 
 looked like lovers to-night." 
 
 " Did we ? " Sherburne was mollified by that and the 
 smile sounded in his voice. "I love her very much, 
 Uncle Con. I really fell in love with her that day at 
 Aunt Millicent's luncheon. She was the most attractive 
 girl there. And that evening at the hotel settled it. I 
 know I shall have to wait " 
 
 "And has she really accepted you?" Uncle Con's 
 voice verged to irritability, but the enthusiastic lover did 
 not remark it. 
 
 "She will wait — " had she really promised to wait? 
 "We are to be friends, and she is younger than I am." 
 
 " Then it is not a settled engagement ? " 
 
 "Well — it is an understanding." He could venture 
 upon that. She had said she could not marry him, but 
 then girls often said what they did not mean, and re- 
 pented and yielded. When she saw how in earnest he 
 was in everything — " Yes," he added, " an understand- 
 ing; and we can wait." 
 
 Was there any use of arguing ? There had been head-
 
 AND THEN CONSIDERATION. 187 
 
 strong impulses in his own life and in the boy's father. 
 And just now Sherburne was not likely to listen to advice. 
 
 ''Well," he exclaimed, after a silence, "don't set 
 your heart too strongly on it. It is unwise and I am 
 sorry for your sake that it has happened. Good-night j " 
 and he turned off to hail a car. 
 
 "Poor old fellow!" thought the enthusiastic young 
 lover. Gertrude had been surprised, but not cold or 
 formal, and his sanguine temperament took much for 
 granted. 
 
 Mr. Murray was a good deal perplexed. He could 
 see that they would be greatly annoyed at home, and he 
 was afraid the two interests would conflict, study getting 
 the worst of it for awhile. It certainly was foolish on 
 Miss Maurice's part. Dear little Princess, what would 
 she say to such a denouement ? 
 
 And himself? He had studied Gertrude more than 
 she was aware, more deeply than he had been aware of 
 himself. He was quite used to analyzing motives and 
 feelings and formed pretty correct judgments after his 
 years of experience. If he had followed out his impulse, 
 he would have insisted more than a year ago that Ger- 
 trude should marry him, and set himself about making 
 her happy with the same earnestness and persistency that 
 had won for him some of the other prizes of life. But it 
 seemed unmanly. He did not want to wrest any woman's 
 love roughly away from her, he wanted it to be a free 
 gift. Mrs. Townsend's need had come in opportunely. 
 Gertrude should see a little of the world. 
 
 But he felt with the sort of prescience that lends love 
 a keen, mysterious insight that he could make her happy, 
 and that while she would not be one of the silly, adoring 
 women, or one of the exigent ones, she could throw just
 
 1 88 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 the charm he wanted around Ins home. He was almost 
 ashamed of his desire for something young and bright, 
 and yet at heart he would never grow old. And she 
 would be a mate for any time of life. 
 
 Would it be worth while to try ? Sherburne would not 
 come to the full richness of manhood in years. If all 
 things went right with him he would make a fine, strong, 
 admirable man. Then in this prime the sparkle would 
 have evaporated from the cup of love and there would 
 be only the sober draught. He would love again. He 
 would doubtless have more than one fancy before he 
 settled to that highest regard. 
 
 If Gertrude loved him, and if she was willing to wait, 
 that would settle it. But he wanted something more than 
 a peradventure to satisfy him. And he was man enough 
 for Gertrude's sake to smooth some of the thorns out of 
 their path. His love was not altogether selfish if he was 
 so much nearer the end of things. This would be the 
 end for him. All the rest of his years he would be the 
 jolly bachelor uncle. 
 
 Yet he had a dozen minds before he sauntered up the 
 street rather late on Sunday afternoon. Mrs. Townsend 
 he knew was to spend some hours and dine with a dear 
 friend. If he should find Sherburne there that would 
 answer his question. 
 
 Gertrude had said she would rather stay at home and 
 read, in reply to Mrs. Townsend's friendly suggestion 
 that she should go to the Kenneths. Then she informed 
 the maid that she would not be at home to Mr. Beau- 
 manoir if he should call. He would hardly be likely to 
 venture on Sunday, but his daring of last night had sur- 
 prised her. She felt very much dissatisfied with herself. 
 Some positive step must be taken to end the matter.
 
 AND THEN CONSIDERATION. 189 
 
 In the midst of her cogitations she was surprised by a 
 caller she had not thought of. 
 
 "Mrs. Townsend has gone out," she began, rather 
 confusedly. Should she ask him in ? 
 
 " I did not want to see her, but you." He put down 
 his hat with an air of resolution, and seated himself in his 
 easy, at-home manner, for he was always at home here. 
 
 For once Miss Maurice's readiness quite forsook her. 
 She made some faint comments on the day, which was 
 very lowering now, with indications of snow, then she 
 explained Mrs. Tovvnsend's visit, and asked his opinion 
 of a new novel. 
 
 The opinion was given somewhat at length. There 
 were several strictures in it with which she did not agree, 
 and this turned on the question of a long engagement 
 begun in early youth. 
 
 Was she justifying her own step ? 
 
 They always found so many subjects of conversation, 
 even if they disagreed on half of them. A very ridicu- 
 lous idea had come into her mind. She had entertained 
 a vague fancy through the day that she might ask Mrs. 
 Carew to use her influence in some quiet manner, to sug- 
 gest or persuade Sherburne that he had no time for such 
 romantic folly as falling in love. Then the family could 
 not think she was leading him on. She had a half-fear 
 that she could not quite manage him. 
 
 And now she wondered what a man's influence would 
 be ; a kindly, wise, experienced man, who certainly would 
 have his nephew's welfare at heart. She remembered the 
 night she had laid her petty troubles before him, and it 
 had brought forth the half proposal of marriage that she 
 had quenched immediately, because it looked almost as 
 if she had been begging for it.
 
 190 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 She raised her eyes. He was studying her intently. 
 Her face was scarlet. She could have cried with vexa- 
 tion. Then she recalled the look of last night. 
 
 He rose, though he was sitting not far from her, and, 
 with a step or two, took her hand that was so spiritless 
 she felt ashamed of it. 
 
 " Gertrude — " his tone was almost fatherly, "will you 
 answer me a question truly ? Are you engaged or even 
 partially engaged, to Sherburne Beaumanoir?" 
 
 She wanted to spring up and snatch away her hand, 
 and answer him indignantly, to triumph over his mean 
 suspicion. But she did not do it soon enough. She 
 could not trust her voice. She was glad he had asked. 
 O what made her so contradictory, so uncertain to her- 
 self? 
 
 " Gertrude — " he so often said Miss Maurice. Some- 
 thing in the tone touched her, thrilled her. 
 
 "O no, no," she said, with a protest that filled him 
 with joy. " O, will you help me to — to " 
 
 "I shall be at your service for any assistance in my 
 power — even if my surmise had been true." 
 
 " How good you are." She knew then he did not care 
 about her in that manner, so she could talk freely. Had 
 Sherburne made a confidant of him? 
 
 " I am afraid you will think — that I have led him 
 on. > Perhaps I have been to blame. But I did not 
 imagine until he spoke — he seems so young, and I tried 
 not to see him alone when I suspected what might be 
 possible. O, do you suppose it is, or may be a lasting 
 regard ? ' ' 
 
 Her voice was tremulous with fear and emotion. 
 
 Had he any right to come between these young souls ? 
 He knew • youthful passions were evanescent, oftentimes
 
 AND THEN CONSIDERATION. 191 
 
 unwise, but here and there one redeemed the unwisdom 
 by the faithfulness of the regard. 
 
 " If you love him — That will settle the present ques- 
 tion for you ' ' 
 
 "But I do not, you see," she answered, quickly. "I 
 am not very impressionable, I think, or romantic. I can 
 see all the trouble it would make for Sherburne, even if I 
 could comfort him with an enthusiastic love. But I am 
 afraid I should say — 'I told you this would be so' " — and 
 she gave a little agitated laugh that was far from any sense 
 of amusement, while her eyes were humid. 
 
 He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, let 
 her cry a little in girlish fashion, but he refrained with a 
 strong effort, because he knew in the end he should 
 win. 
 
 "You see," she began, hurriedly, when she had found 
 her voice, " if I had a fortune of my own, or some high- 
 up connections that would be of an advantage to him, 
 and did love him even a little, it would not be so bad. 
 But there are really no extenuating circumstances," with 
 a humorous sound that betokened self-possession. "I 
 do not want to, and could not do it. Only I should be 
 sorry to make ever such a little break in his life. He 
 ought to go on with his career and let girls and love alone 
 for the next half-dozen years. I should be bored think- 
 ing continually what was best for another person, com- 
 forting him in discouragements, spurring him up when he 
 flagged a little. I am very selfish, am I not? " 
 
 " I do not call that selfishness. There are cases where 
 one seems called upon to devote one's life and aims for 
 another, but this does not appear so urgent. And you 
 are quite ready to be forgotten, to see him transfer his 
 affections to some one else," half jealously.
 
 192 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " It would not trouble me at all. Yet I should con- 
 sider it quite as foolish in him." 
 
 "And you remember he is a handsome fellow. At 
 five and twenty he will be a fascinating man." 
 
 " And at five and twenty I shall feel half a century old 
 and as if I were his grandmother." 
 
 Both laughed then, and they went over to the sofa and 
 sat down side by side. She had not felt so thoroughly 
 friendly since they were at Melchias. It was very pleas- 
 ant to have her so near, and if she felt old within, there 
 was enough left to rejuvenate her. He would not have 
 minded if she had looked every day of five and twenty, 
 but he had to confess she did not, and he also confessed 
 in his secret soul that he loved youth with all its incon- 
 sistencies. 
 
 The maid tapped at the door. 
 
 " Shall I make the tea? " she asked. 
 
 " You will have a cup of tea? " and Gertrude turned 
 inquiringly to Mr. Murray. "I have done the honors 
 before," laughing and coloring a little. 
 
 "I shall be much pleased to take tea with you," he 
 made answer. 
 
 "There is one guest," she whispered to Mary. " Set 
 out the tea-table for two."
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A LOVER ON THE WINNING SIDE. 
 
 IT was very pretty and cozy down here by the window 
 and the corner. The table would have answered for 
 three. She and Mrs. Townsend often used it for break- 
 fast. They could dispense with the maid, and discuss 
 any subject without hesitation. Gertrude dismissed her 
 now. 
 
 She made a charming hostess, though the color kept 
 coming and going, and he thought he had never seen her 
 look so really pretty. Her manners had all the dainty 
 society touches that she took to so naturally. They talked 
 on indifferent subjects, she relating some bright incidents 
 of last winter, and describing people they had met with 
 graphic touches and much discrimination. 
 
 She would be a very pleasant companion for the rest 
 of his life, and he could give her much delight and com- 
 fort. As he had said to Princess he could be quite a 
 foolish lover when he let himself go, and he was not so 
 old but that he wanted a great deal of love, and felt ca- 
 pable of giving a great deal in return. He had plenty of 
 time for the indulgence now. And all his life it had 
 seemed as if when he had taken a fancy that indicated 
 future ripening, he was sent off to the ends of the earth, 
 or it was at the fag end of some journey and he was com- 
 ing home. Once he had carried a memory in his heart 
 for months, to find the girl lost to him through a very 
 satisfactory engagement, and full of love's enthusiasm. 
 
 »93
 
 194 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 He had never been very deeply touched, and no one had 
 died for love of him, so his conscience was clear. He 
 had grown more sympathetic and generous toward hu- 
 man nature, one of the qualities gained by a wide knowl- 
 edge of life. He had never counted much on perfection, 
 children in large families soon mend of such beliefs and 
 cease to make the demand. His father had stood to him 
 for the embodiment of noble manhood, and with all the 
 cultured people he had met he had never seen any cause 
 to change his mind. 
 
 He studied Gertrude with more than a lover's eye. 
 He had come to the time when comfort is the great 
 thing. Not that having enjoyed all the pleasures himself 
 he was tired of them and would want to shut a woman 
 out of the experience. He still loved variety, and peo- 
 ple with all their fads and follies amused him, and young 
 people with their heroic beliefs interested him. 
 
 They sat a long while over the table. She had grown 
 to be an attractive talker in that she mostly left herself 
 out of the question. Now and then he managed to 
 bring out some quality or a bit of temper, or a flash of 
 wit. And he was considering whether he should surprise 
 her to-night or let her go on and have a young girl's 
 dream of friendship. 
 
 There was a little feeling about Sherburne, poor fel- 
 low. 
 
 "We have not settled the most important matter 
 yet," he said, as they went back to the reception-room. 
 " It will be hardly fair to allow Sherburne to go on un- 
 der a mistaken notion. But your answer would be defi- 
 nite this time." 
 
 " I hate to think about it." 
 
 She had been so deliciously comfortable the last hour
 
 A LOVER ON THE WINNING SIDE. 195 
 
 that it was like being dragged back over a stubble field, 
 and the lines of her face betrayed it. 
 
 "But you must consider it, my child, and you must 
 act." 
 
 That had a lovely, fatherly sound, and this man was 
 so much wiser than her own father, who would have beat 
 about and offered some impossible solution. 
 
 " I can't act alone," she said, rather pettishly. 
 
 " Give him the chance, then. By the indications of 
 last evening he will be ready enough to take it. It is not 
 wise to let it go on unless you do mean to marry him in 
 the distant future." 
 
 "But I do not." 
 
 " There is no temptation ? " 
 
 "I am not old enough to be tempted by such a pros- 
 pect. I like my present life better." 
 
 "I must say it seems to suit you admirably." 
 
 "And it offers some permanency." 
 
 " That would make waiting easier. I want you to un- 
 derstand that you are giving up what most girls would 
 consider a fair prospect." 
 
 "You forget that I am not in love," she returned, 
 sharply, with a slight frown of annoyance. 
 
 " I do sincerely believe you are not," he said, with a 
 tender gravity that touched her ; for he was fully con- 
 vinced. 
 
 " Then the sooner the crisis comes the better for both 
 parties. ' ' 
 
 She sat silent. Her eyes were softened with a mys- 
 terious pity. He was sorely tempted to turn it into joy. 
 But he rose without yielding to it. His love should 
 stand out by itself and not be mixed up with any other 
 matter.
 
 196 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " I have made you an unconscionable visit," he said, 
 taking up his hat. 
 
 "And given me a pleasant evening with all the good 
 advice." There was a mischievous glint in her eyes and 
 a half smile lurking about her tempting lips. " I shall 
 follow the advice," with a touch of seriousness quite 
 charming. 
 
 " And you may depend upon me for the rear guard." 
 
 Then they said a cordial good-night. She settled 
 among the cushions and gave way to a delicious reverie. 
 She was so sure of her friend now. She would rather 
 have his respect and friendship than to have snapped him 
 up in that half proposal, and have a few unwelcome 
 questioning glances as if she had maneuvred for him. 
 Marriage was not quite everything as her mother thought. 
 Then she gave a soft little laugh at the awful disappoint- 
 ment her mother would experience if she knew of this 
 second slighted opportunity. 
 
 Mrs. Townsend returned soon after. 
 
 " I've had just a delightful, restful time," she said 
 with a gratified sound in her voice. " There was no one 
 else, of course. And we talked over old days when you 
 could really enjoy, and the whole study of life was not 
 to be amused by some strange new thing." 
 
 "Mr. Murray came in," said Gertrude. " And he 
 took tea with me. Tea is a quaintly enjoyable institu- 
 tion." 
 
 "Yes. Then you were not lonesome." 
 
 "I do not believe I should have been lonesome any 
 way," returned Gertrude, who felt at that moment she 
 could go on to old age without another lonesome hour. 
 
 But it was a rather trying week with many nervous 
 moments in it. Mr. Murray did not drop in, she guessed
 
 A LOVER ON THE WINNING SIDE. 197 
 
 he was staying away purposely. She did not go to walk 
 at any hour when there was the slightest chance of meet- 
 ing Sherburne. On Friday evening she summoned cour- 
 age to go around to Mrs. Kenneth's. The professor 
 and Bertram had gone to the Draytons' to meet some fa- 
 mous people. 
 
 She lingered after the clock struck nine and finally 
 rose. There was a quick step in the study room and the 
 next instant a delighted exclamation. 
 
 "I have fortunately come in time," Sherburne ex- 
 claimed. " I just wanted a book I had left here. Good- 
 evening, Mrs. Kenneth. Good-evening, Ruth. You 
 won't get the professor home before midnight. Uncle 
 Bert has just gone down there. How people can be so 
 much interested in what happened thousands of years 
 ago ! I like things of to-day. And now I'll take you 
 home on my way back," to Gertrude. 
 
 " Do not hurry away on my account." 
 
 " O no. I'm keeping good hours. I have turned over 
 a bright new leaf and Uncle Bert has written a commen- 
 dation on it." 
 
 He was so brilliant and smiling that he seemed to make 
 an atmosphere in the room. 
 
 " That is an excellent account to hear about you," re- 
 joined Mrs. Kenneth. 
 
 They walked down the stairs and out in the street. 
 Gertrude's heart sank within her. 
 
 ''Don't go straight home. I have so much to say. 
 Didn't I tell you I could work when there was a purpose 
 in view? I've gone on finely. And I've kept myself 
 well in hand, though I have wanted to go out and way- 
 lay you somewhere. But I thought I would save all my 
 joy until to-morrow night."
 
 198 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "You will not see me," she said, gravely; "I am 
 going to the theatre." 
 
 " With whom ? " in a peremptory tone. 
 
 "That cannot and must not make any difference to 
 you," she answered, decisively. " I am glad we met to- 
 night. You seem to have forgotten the talk we had be- 
 fore you went home. I was in earnest then." 
 
 "But you said we might be friends. I am only going 
 to ask for friendship until I really have some prospects of 
 my very own to offer you. I have only been studying 
 half-heartedly and wasn't quite sure my bent was for 
 medicine after all. There are some things about it I 
 don't like and shall not like until I get to be a high-up 
 man expounding theories. And if you make yourself do 
 it for the sake of the woman you love " 
 
 "Stop," Gertrude interrupted. " You take up a life 
 profession because it is the desire of your inmost soul and 
 not for any woman's sake. A man must have courage 
 and strength enough of his own to stand quite alone. 
 Suppose I said I did not want you to study medicine." 
 
 "Well, there is law. Father would be awfully glad 
 to have me reconsider. And there is a splendid connec- 
 tion." 
 
 " You must put me out of the question, out of your 
 life. I told you the truth when I said I did not love 
 you. You have taken up your hope on a flimsy basis. 
 I am sorry, but I have not changed my mind in the 
 slightest." 
 
 " But you were willing to wait," rather resentfully. 
 
 "I may not be married in years, perhaps not at all. 
 It will not be because I am waiting for any special per- 
 son, and I shall not promise you anything. You have to 
 fit yourself for a place in life, you owe some duty to your
 
 A LOVER ON THE WINNING SIDE. 199 
 
 parents ; and when you have achieved this it will be time 
 to think of the woman you would like to share it with. 
 You will contrast her with me then and be surprised that 
 you ever fancied me." 
 
 "You are mistaken. I shall never care for any one in 
 this way again," he flung out, angrily. 
 
 " I sincerely hope not. A man ought not to care for a 
 woman who insists that she does not love him. Why 
 should you want to win a woman against her will ? " 
 
 "Well, there would be the triumph. Such things 
 have been done," he returned in an imperious tone. 
 
 " I do not think I could be won in that way." 
 
 "O my darling, forgive me! No, not against your 
 will. Love must always be a free gift. But you will not 
 try. That vexes me." 
 
 " I am quite sure I could not persuade myself to love. 
 Then there would be the years of feverish expectation 
 that would interfere to distract your attention from what 
 was really worthy, from your highest aims. And in two 
 years' time I might meet my ideal. Then, would you 
 want to marry a woman whose truest love was another's ? " 
 
 "But you couldn't if you had promised," he said, 
 confidently. 
 
 " Will you understand that I shall make no promises? " 
 His persistence began to rouse her temper. 
 
 "But if you wait " 
 
 "I shall be quite free. I may marry in a month's 
 time," with a kind of fling in her voice. 
 
 "Then you have a lover," jealously. 
 
 " I have no lover. But some one may fancy me," 
 with a touch of exaltation in her tone. "There was a 
 man in Denver, an ex-congressman and a mine owner, 
 that did fancy me."
 
 200 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " But you did not love him," triumphantly. 
 
 " And I do not love you." 
 
 Sherburne's hopes fell again. As he was willing to 
 wait and work, why could she not accept the offering 
 since she had admitted she might wait. 
 
 "It would be this way," he said. " You should be 
 free. If you met some one to your fancy, why I sup- 
 pose I should accept the fact after awhile. I shouldn't 
 murder either of you," with a short laugh. "It would 
 go very hard with me, but it wouldn't be quite like being 
 thrown over in the very beginning, and having my life 
 upset." 
 
 •" I should think it would be much easier." 
 
 " Ah, but I love you. And it is a fair field while you 
 haven't any lover." 
 
 She wondered a little if she might not drop into a des- 
 perate flirtation if that would cure him. 
 
 They had passed the house and gone around the block. 
 Now she halted at the stoop. 
 
 " You must give me up entirely or not see me at all," 
 she exclaimed, decisively. 
 
 "I shall do neither." 
 
 She touched the bell and disappeared within, not even 
 saying good-night. 
 
 She had forgiven him before, she would again. He 
 was determined to succeed. 
 
 "What can you do with a very persistent lover who 
 will take no refusal ? 1 have not had much experience 
 in lovers. My first one gave me up cheerfully, because 
 there was some one he liked better and I was deprived of 
 the honor of declining him. But if declining is such 
 difficult work, I pray all the rest may give me up, even if 
 I suffer from mortification."
 
 A LOVER ON THE WINNING SIDE. 201 
 
 Gertrude threw her hat on the sofa and herself on the 
 hassock at Mrs. Townsend's feet. 
 
 " Is it Sherburne Beaumanoir ? " 
 
 "Yes," in a tone of vexation. 
 
 " I surmised that it "would come to this. It is a boyish 
 fancy, and a 'boy's will is the wind's will.' The wind 
 may blow furiously for a time,_ but it does stop. The 
 river goes steadily on." 
 
 " And I'd rather take my sail along the river than to be 
 blown about by the wind. I shouldn't want to be talking 
 and persuading and encouraging and considering. I 
 want a future ready-made, if I have any. I am afraid I 
 have been spoiled by things coming to me so easily. 
 Can I do anything more than say ' no '? " 
 
 " And act the ' No ' out whenever you have a chance. 
 I am very sorry. It is the wildest folly for such a young 
 fellow to fall into an engagement, and later on he is apt 
 to thank the girl whose good sense kept him out of it." 
 
 She went to the theatre with a party of young people, 
 and when she returned the guests had departed. Sher- 
 burne had not come in. Mr. Murray had been, of 
 course. 
 
 "There is an invitation for you. A famous Russian 
 violinist with a tongue-twisting name, and a singer of 
 note. I think you can be trusted with such an old fel- 
 low without a chaperone. I have an engagement and a 
 supper afterward, so if I am not home until late, you 
 may lay it to dissipation and not suspect me of running 
 off with some fine fellow." 
 
 She looked at the tickets and Mr. Murray's card on 
 which the invitation was written in pencil. Tuesday even- 
 ing. How long it seemed since last Sunday, as if she 
 had not seen him for a month. And he was in the habit
 
 202 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 of dropping in often, any time of day or evening. What 
 would he say, she wondered. Perhaps he had seen Sher- 
 burne. But it was hardly likely this subject would be 
 discussed between them. 
 
 Miss Ensign came in Tuesday afternoon. 
 
 " We were wondering if you were ill or anything," she 
 exclaimed. " Mrs. Kenneth misses you so when you do 
 not run in nearly every day. You see and hear so many 
 things " 
 
 " And talk so much," appended Gertrude. 
 
 " We like the talk," smilingly. " O, I have had such 
 a delightful letter from Princess. She is having a lovely 
 time in Washington and it seems that she almost made 
 herself famous singing at a musicale. I do wish she 
 could come up here. But they are all there together. 
 What happy times they do have." 
 
 Ruth sighed a little. She liked Gertrude very much, 
 but she had not come as near to her as to the other girls. 
 
 Gertrude was in readiness with her gloves in her hand 
 when Mr. Murray came. Mrs. Townsend had only time 
 for a word or two. 
 
 " We shall be tolerably early," he said, " but we will 
 not mind that. I rarely go until a thing is half through." 
 
 "But why? Does it bore you ? " 
 
 "O no, I am generally at the other place. Cities 
 may not divide the honor of my being born in them, but 
 entertainments often divide my criticisms, and presence." 
 
 " And you take a whole evening for this. Is it so ex- 
 traordinary? " 
 
 " I take the evening for you." 
 
 Gertrude flushed. 
 
 People were slowly gathering. Their seats were at 
 the end where they would not be disturbed by new-
 
 A LOVER ON THE WINNING SIDE. 203 
 
 comers. Mr. Murray studied his program for a few mo- 
 ments, paying special attention to the names of the per- 
 formers. 
 
 "Have you seen Sherburne?" he asked, presently, in 
 a very low tone. 
 
 " Last Friday evening." 
 
 " And you told him " 
 
 " I tried to make him understand. I should like to 
 know how well I succeeded." 
 
 " He was not in Saturday evening." 
 
 " I told him I should not be there." 
 
 " Did you think he would come? " 
 
 " I had not supposed he would the week before." 
 
 " Then one cannot count on him as a certain factor in 
 any case ? " 
 
 There was a smile of amusement as Murray uttered this. 
 
 " I should like not to count on him in any case. But 
 it seems hard to make him understand." 
 
 Then they dropped the young man. The violinist 
 was exceptionally fine and had to play an encore. The 
 young singer had a sweet, well-trained voice. There 
 were other things, a brilliant piano duet and a fantasy. 
 
 Between times they had little asides. The color kept 
 fluttering up and down Gertrude's face. She had not 
 minded his glances very much before, she had become 
 accustomed to being almost stared at, but this sent 
 strange little shivers over her which were neither heat 
 nor cold but a vague sort of deliciousness. And he was 
 saying odd suggestive things that did not mean anything 
 of course, but occasionally she wished he would not. 
 Others might use this sort of society flattery, but he had 
 no need. She hoped they had come to something better, 
 to friendship.
 
 204 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 It was not a tiresomely long concert. He made a few 
 notes and some approving nods, and then wrapped her 
 fur cape about her and put up the collar, elbowing a 
 way through the crowd for her. What a manly, fine- 
 looking person he was. She recalled the fact that these 
 solicitous attentions were natural to him when he was on 
 his best behavior and not afflicted with laziness. He 
 was not putting on anything special to-night, she told 
 herself. 
 
 But it was a new thing to be almost carried up the 
 stairs, and then have him fumble with the key and come 
 to his assistance, and feel her hand crumpled up in his 
 as she opened the door. 
 
 He turned up the gas just a little. How warm it felt 
 after the keenness outside, and the suggestive softness 
 through the ground globe made shadows in the corners 
 and gave a weird look to the pile of cushions as if some 
 one might be hiding there. 
 
 "Take off your wraps," he said. "I am going to 
 stay until Mrs. Townsend comes home. She has never 
 entrusted you to my care before, and I want to return 
 you in good order. Were you paid for going? " 
 
 "Why, yes — since I had none of the expense," she 
 answered, laughingly. 
 
 "And the little tickets were complimentary." 
 
 "There were car fares," sententiously. 
 
 "Yes. Gertrude, you will make an admirable wife 
 for a poor man. You must insist upon having a house- 
 hold account book. A penny saved is as good as a 
 penny earned, I have heard, so be careful of the pen- 
 nies." 
 
 " When 1 find the poor man." 
 
 " Is your heart so set upon poverty? That is youthful
 
 A LOVER ON THE WINNING SIDE. 205 
 
 and romantic, but rather unwise at the end of the cen- 
 tury, when money seems such a factor." 
 
 He had dropped on the sofa. She stood beside him, 
 wondering a little at his mood. He caught her hand 
 and drew her down. 
 
 "Gertie," he said, "considerably more than a year 
 ago there was some incipient love-making. He was a 
 rather oldish fellow, and she was a young girl who had 
 seen nothing of the world, and who, if she had been just 
 a tint more scheming would have heard him through, 
 and maybe accepted him. But she refused him as any 
 good honorable girl would have who wasn't quite certain 
 what either of them meant. It was one of those wise 
 blunders that sometimes occur when people are not sure 
 of themselves or each other. And now the old fellow is 
 a year older, and the girl has had some experience and a 
 young lover, and she knows there is more than one man 
 in the world. Do you think she can love well enough to 
 bridge over all the years between and be happy with 
 him? " 
 
 Gertrude Maurice sat upright, stiff and surprised, and 
 simply looked at Mr. Murray. 
 
 "Will I do — Gertie?" he said, softly, and his arm 
 was about her, drawing her down to his shoulder. 
 
 " O, you don't mean — " there was a little convulsive 
 catch in her voice. 
 
 "I mean that I love you and want you. I mean a 
 great many more things that you will go on finding out 
 year by year, if you conclude to take me. Some you 
 will like, some won't suit you at all, but you see I am an 
 oldish fellow and can't fly around like a weather cock at 
 every young girl's whim. But taking it all in all, if you 
 think you can love me we may get along fairly. I shall
 
 206 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 want a great deal of love — quite as much as any young 
 fellow." 
 
 " O ! " with a soft cry. Then she hid her face. Did 
 he really want her ? If she had asked her gift out of all 
 the world, it would have been this. A week ago she had 
 settled to a delightful friendship, and thought the world 
 had nothing more to give her. 
 
 " Gertrude? " 
 
 " O, I think now you must know, that you must 
 have known it all along. One day — on the sand sat Mel- 
 chias Island. It was just a look. I could not think you 
 would come to care for me. I envied the girl for whom 
 you would care. And that night on the boat — I was not 
 sure how much you meant, and I didn't want any one to 
 say I had taken a mean advantage of your lovely hospi- 
 tality. I would rather have given you up." 
 
 " And now you don't mind what any one thinks? " 
 
 There was a strand of mirthfulness in his tone. 
 
 "I am afraid I don't." 
 
 He drew the flushed face up to his and gave her her 
 first lover's kisses. 
 
 " Gertrude," he began, seriously, some moments later, 
 "I want you to consider this subject of age. When I 
 am sixty you will be at the finest period of a woman's 
 life. And it is only fair to warn you there is very little 
 chance of widowhood. My father is hale and hearty, 
 and I feel within me the certain premonitions of old age. 
 I shall want to be loved and coddled and cared for — I 
 dare say I shall be jealous and unreasonable. I won't 
 begin by painting those years in rose color, even if we 
 have violets in their sweetness all along first. And this is 
 a grave question." 
 
 " But you are not old ! " she protested. " And did it
 
 A LOVER ON THE WINNING SIDE. 207 
 
 ever occur to you that I am not young for twenty years ? 
 Or else I have lived in some other life and have vague 
 experiences of it ? " 
 
 "I want you young. That's a bit of my unreason- 
 ableness. And I want you sweet and fond and bright to 
 take me back to that magical land. I want love enough 
 to make up for all these years. And I will promise to be 
 better than the Browning lover, I will love you the whole 
 year round, not merely < half the year.' " 
 
 She laughed delightedly. 
 
 " Do you think Princess will like it ? " she asked, pres- 
 ently. " She loves you so." 
 
 " She has given me permission." 
 
 " I wonder if I had never come into your life after 
 that night on the boat — " she said, hesitatingly. 
 
 "Ah, but you were not going out. I will tell you 
 now — Mrs. Townsend wrote to me while we were at the 
 island. I thought the place would suit you better than 
 the teaching you abhorred. I did not think of myself 
 just then, that came a little later. I saw her that day in 
 New York. She had written to Mrs. St. John and re- 
 ceived her commendation, and made an appointment to 
 meet you. She taxed me with a suspicious fondness, 
 and on condition that I was not to interfere, neither see 
 you nor write to you for a year, she engaged to keep you 
 tolerably safe, unless some enchanting young man came 
 along." 
 
 "They were rather middle aged," said Gertrude, 
 mirthfully. "There were two of them, one rich, and 
 famous in his own estimation." 
 
 "And I am famous in other people's estimation. That 
 makes a great difference." 
 
 " And you knew all the while? "
 
 2o8 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " I was not going to let you out into the great world 
 with no watchful care. And if the young man had ap- 
 peared I should have hurried to the fray at once." 
 
 "I am glad you cared for me then." It was delight- 
 ful to have been loved unknowingly. 
 
 " So you have this arrears to make up to me." 
 
 She nestled closer. The care and interest was very 
 sweet. They both forgot about the young man of con- 
 fident hopes. 
 
 It was just midnight when Mrs. Townsend returned. 
 
 "Con Murray," she began, "you must go home at 
 once. You need not even stop for an explanation. This 
 is taking a mean advantage of my absence, and depriv- 
 ing my secretary of her natural rest. You know what I 
 said about them when they began to have lovers." 
 
 "I shall see about having my house put in order at 
 once. To-morrow at ten you may expect me. Can I 
 stay to luncheon?" 
 
 They all laughed. 
 
 When he was gone Mrs. Townsend put her arm about 
 Gertrude. 
 
 "You will have a fine husband, dear, but I wish he 
 was ten years younger." 
 
 Gertrude thought she would not have him changed in 
 the slightest respect.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A DISCORD OF UNREASON. 
 
 OVER their cozy breakfast Gertrude confessed her 
 unsatisfactory attempt to convince her young ad- 
 mirer that he had nothing to hope for and that even 
 friendship now would be irksome. 
 
 "I really did not think him in earnest, at least not 
 marrying earnest. He will soon recover from his fancy. 
 And the best step will be to announce your engagement 
 at once." 
 
 Gertrude turned a vivid scarlet. Was it actually true 
 that she was engaged to the one man she felt she could 
 love with fervent devotion, the man she had sometimes 
 speculated upon, but never in the depth of her heart be- 
 lieved she could win. 
 
 "You see the idea is not new to me," continued her 
 friend. "I like Con Murray extremely, but I did not 
 mean he should shut you out of opportunities for 
 judging whether younger men had not some subtle charm 
 for you. I am not sure even / would like the disparity. 
 People nearer of an age are more apt to have similar 
 tastes and enjoyments. But his profession will keep him 
 in touch with the younger ideas of life, the work and 
 thoughts of to-day. And there is one particular mistake 
 I hope you will avoid." 
 
 A tint of color crept up in Mrs. Townsend's face, and 
 she gave an airy sort of nod and smile as if she was not 
 quite sure how her advice would be received. 
 
 209
 
 2io THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " O tell me whatever you think will benefit me and 
 help me to make him happy." 
 
 " My dear, let him try to make you happy for awhile. 
 Young wives often offer too much devotion. But what I 
 wished to say was that you must get used to seeing other 
 women admire him, and you must not turn unduly jeal- 
 ous. Women have been used to making much of him. 
 They do have favors to ask of him and I think he is par- 
 ticularly friendly to struggling feminines. There are 
 many silly women in the world who have a fancy they 
 can understand this or that particular man and make him 
 happier than his wife does. There are others who make 
 a bid for any man's admiration. And the wife who turns 
 cold and silent and proud surely loses. Keep your right 
 to try for his admiration as well as his love. A little ex- 
 perience will teach you when to claim as well as when 
 to refrain, and do not be too self-willed to make the en- 
 deavor. You will find men are not perfection, but then 
 neither are women." 
 
 They both strayed away from the subject on which 
 they had started. The mail came in and they were still 
 sitting over the fruit when Mr. Murray entered. 
 
 He walked around and kissed Gertrude with an air of 
 proprietorship that quite amazed her, and drawing a 
 chair sat down beside her. 
 
 "Do you suppose I could have some coffee? I was 
 up at six this morning, in the dark and dreary world be- 
 fore there was any smiling sun. And it does not smile 
 very cordially now." 
 
 "That can make little difference to you in your pres- 
 ent beatific state. You are a spoiled child and I ought 
 to take you in training for Gertrude's sake. But you may 
 have the coffee this morning."
 
 A DISCORD OF UNREASON. 211 
 
 "Thank you at least twenty times." 
 
 " You are moderate. I am glad to see you are not in 
 an exaggerated frame of mind." 
 
 Mrs. Townsend rang for the coffee. Gertrude felt 
 oddly embarrassed, but Mr. Murray soon dropped into a 
 half teasing and wholly delightful mood. Mrs. Town- 
 send insisted with great apparent earnestness that she 
 could not give up her secretary until the year expired. 
 
 " But I have another to commend to you. A young 
 woman who despises men and has forsworn matrimony." 
 
 "I have no faith in women who despise men. They 
 have generally been crossed in love and are soured, or 
 have an eye on the next chance." 
 
 " Then I will come myself and write your letters. I 
 will allow Gertrude to pour tea or coffee on Saturday 
 evenings, whichever is the least arduous." 
 
 " Or renders her the least attractive." 
 
 " Exactly. How quickly you guessed my meaning." 
 
 "I knew you had some Bluebeard propensities." 
 
 He nodded and laughed. 
 
 "Now I am going to give you just half an hour. 
 You may wander out to the reception-room." 
 
 " And no chaperon ! How utterly delightful you are ! 
 Gertrude, fortunately we will not go to Paris until next 
 year; New York will be satisfactory to us." 
 
 They walked out of the cozy drawing-room. Was he 
 really her lover ? 
 
 Mrs. Townsend looked after them in an amused fash- 
 ion. She had a half feeling of elation that her protege 
 had captured this man whom many a society girl had 
 angled for. Yet she had not pinned much faith on his 
 first fancy, and was pleased that Gertrude had not gone 
 headlong into admiration for him.
 
 212 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 "I wonder," Gertrude said, after awhile, "if you can 
 understand that I feel truly sorry for Sherburne, and have 
 a vague misgiving that he will take the tidings of the " 
 
 "The engagement," he appended, and she paused and 
 colored in embarrassment. 
 
 " Harder than any of us have thought. Will you 
 
 tell him?" 
 
 " I will do it as soon as possible. He has a good deal 
 of temper and may flare up at first. But he must see — 
 and I think he has some common sense." 
 
 Gertrude gave a little sigh. " I wish it had not 
 happened." Could she have averted it? His prefer- 
 ence had flattered her. Any young girl it seemed to her 
 might fall enthusiastically in love with him, if she had 
 no other ideal. And she sincerely hoped it was one of 
 the evanescent fancies. 
 
 It was a strong one, however. He was the embodiment 
 of young romance, and a first love with such inexperi- 
 enced natures seems to pervade every fibre of heart and 
 brain. He had a stubborn belief that devotion must win 
 in the end even if it dethroned common sense for a 
 season. Her charming friendliness he felt certain sprang 
 from a deeper interest, and her way of holding aloof had 
 piqued his vanity. A girl who had dropped into a flirta- 
 tion, and had no quality but sweetness would soon have 
 satiated him, and the fancy died from lack of that fine 
 sustenance that holds a promise of better things to come. 
 
 And now he was resolved not to give her up. He had 
 a youthful belief that love must conquer from its very 
 persistency, since he was quite sure she loved no one else. 
 
 But the struggle made him impatient and a little irri- 
 table. He could not study with the zest of the last fort- 
 night, for he was continually planning how he could meet
 
 A DISCORD OF UNREASON. 213 
 
 her again, and storing up arguments. He might throw 
 up his present aims and find a business opening that 
 would enable him to marry sooner. His brain was a 
 chaos of half-formed plans. 
 
 "I confess Sherburne puzzles me, and tries me as 
 well," said Doctor Carew to his wife. "He has so 
 much force and energy, so much quickness and ability, 
 but I am afraid he is more brilliant than stable. Just 
 when he raises your hopes and you feel he has reached 
 a definite purpose, you find he has dropped down to the 
 verge of indifference. I do wonder if his heart is sin- 
 cerely in the profession he has chosen." 
 
 "But remember how really young he is," returned 
 Mrs. Carew. " His air and manner and general knowl- 
 edge of the world make him seem older. There are 
 many qualities so like his father. One can't help having 
 high hopes for him." 
 
 " And some of the young fellows who seem to promise 
 most, never do anything especial. Now Ned isn't a bril- 
 liant chap, but he has a great deal of persistence and is 
 going to take his next degree with honors. I should like 
 to have him in charge. And if I felt less responsibility 
 for Sherburne, I might take it more lightly." 
 
 " I am afraid you were born not to take things lightly," 
 Lyndell said, with a smile. And the thought came into 
 her mind as to how nearly his own sons would satisfy 
 him in years to come ? How much real and lasting in- 
 fluence did any individual exert? 
 
 The world seemed mostly going at cross purposes with 
 Sherburne Beaumanoir. How could he manage to see 
 Gertrude again ? He made excuses to pass the house, 
 he dropped in at the Kenneths'. Bertram wearied him 
 with questions, he was so eager for every bit of knowl-
 
 2i4 THE HEIR 0F SHERBURNE. 
 
 edge, or else he had to recount some remarkable fact or 
 discovery. He rebuffed Aunt Lyndell's attempts to draw 
 him out of his abstracted mood. 
 
 Uncle Con sent him an invitation to come and take 
 supper with him at his rooms. lie had a bit of news for 
 him. 
 
 "Another piece of luck I dare say," the boy mused. 
 " I wish I could strike luck somewhere. Three or four 
 years is a long while to wait." 
 
 But he went, and had a warm welcome. There was a 
 real fire burning in the grate, and though the place was 
 littered up bachelor fashion, it looked cozy and hospitable. 
 
 "What have you been doing with yourself the last 
 fortnight?" asked Uncle Con. "I have hardly seen 
 you." 
 
 "I have been busy about various matters," was the 
 brief reply. He had not desired to see any one. 
 
 " I hope you have not been gay and dissipated." 
 
 " I have not been very gay." 
 
 "Well, a little seriousness is good now and then." 
 
 The waiter came in and began to prepare the table. 
 Uncle Con eyed his guest. What made the usually 
 bright fellow so serious ? 
 
 "I hope you are in no money trouble, Sherburne," he 
 began, kindly. 
 
 "It isn't a present but a future contingency," and he 
 gave a faint smile. "Uncle Con, do you know of any- 
 thing in which in a few years a fellow could be realizing 
 a fair salary? " 
 
 " At business?" 
 
 " Yes, I suppose it would have to be business. I am 
 afraid I have not the genius to write a striking novel, or 
 hit upon some invention to supply a long-felt want."
 
 A DISCORD OF UNREASON. 215 
 
 "There needs to be some training. Are you tired of 
 medicine? " 
 
 " Perhaps not tired. It is so long to wait. And then 
 there are several years spent in acquiring a practice." 
 
 "And in business there ought to be several years' 
 training, unless one has the money to secure a favorable 
 partnership." 
 
 The supper came in, a sort of high tea. They did not 
 need the waiter and he was dismissed. Uncle Con 
 started another subject, to find his nephew still abstracted 
 to a certain degree. 
 
 He suddenly roused. "Uncle Con," he began, 
 "what was your news? Have you been writing a suc- 
 cessful play ? ' ' 
 
 "One could not be certain of the success in the 
 writing. Plays have an uncertain first night. But I 
 thought you might be interested in another outcome, 
 which I hope will not be as uncertain. A change in my 
 life " 
 
 " O, are you going away again? Uncle Con, I almost 
 envy you. It must be delightful to do just what one 
 wishes." 
 
 "I haven't always followed out my own fancies. I 
 have been doing a good deal of what other people wished. 
 We have to, in this life. Things are seldom ready-made 
 for us." 
 
 Sherburne seemed considering. "I don't know what 
 you could do to surprise people in general," he ex- 
 claimed, " unless you married." 
 
 "Then I shall surprise them. That is exactly what I 
 purpose to do." 
 
 "And I envy you there," in a rapid, grudging tone. 
 " If I could be five years older and have a competence? "
 
 216 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 Was the young fellow really dreaming of that ? Mr. 
 Murray was surprised at his earnestness. He had 
 treated the matter lightly in his thoughts. He had seen 
 so many young loves. 
 
 " Yes," he replied, to his former affirmation, " I have 
 resolved to marry and have a real home of my own. I 
 shall keep open house for all the nephews and nieces. 
 And now you may guess. It is some one you have seen, 
 some one you know quite well." 
 
 Sherburne glanced intently at his uncle. There was a 
 pretty widow he had met at Mrs. Townsend's who had a 
 curious fashion of claiming Uncle Con — there was Mrs. 
 Townsend. O no, that could not be. There were two 
 charming western women who had been visiting in the 
 city, and Uncle Con had taken them to the theatres and 
 introduced them in several congenial circles. One, the 
 elder, was an energetic newspaper woman. 
 
 " You are such a general admirer of the sex that one 
 would be a little puzzled to select any particular per- 
 son." 
 
 "You think so?" Uncle Con gave a soft delighted 
 sort of laugh. " Yet you need not go very far. It is 
 some one we have known for a year and a half, the girls 
 longer than that." 
 
 A sudden sharp breathless pang seized Sherburne. He 
 looked steadily at his uncle, his eyes dilating, his lips 
 losing their youthful gayety and settling into definite 
 lines of obstinacy and doubt. A certain revelation crept 
 in slowly, though he was trying to fight it every inch of 
 the way. She had confessed to having an ideal, though 
 she had strenuously denied the real lover. What mad- 
 ness, what bewilderment had seized her ! 
 
 " You must tell me," he said, huskily, and his eyes
 
 A DISCORD OF UNREASON. 217 
 
 dropped. He seemed bracing for a blow and the bril- 
 liant coloring faded. 
 
 " It is Miss Maurice. I liked her a good deal the sum- 
 mer at Melchias island. She was young and had seen 
 nothing of the world, so I preferred she should go away 
 with Mrs. Townsend. If she had met some one to her 
 fancy that would have been the end of it. And it would 
 not have been the first untimely fancy of my life, either." 
 
 There was a sound in his voice meant for solace to the 
 young fellow, who was impervious to comfort or reason 
 just now. And the tender light in the elder's face mad- 
 dened him. 
 
 "I suppose she thinks you a good catch," he said, in 
 what he meant for sarcasm, but the curl of the lip made 
 it insolence. • " You have a fine position and your wife 
 will be well received among attractive people and have a 
 good many indulgences. Then your fortune is already 
 established. She will not have to wait years, as she 
 would if she took some* young man who had his to 
 make." 
 
 "You do her scant justice, I think. She could marry 
 richer men if she cared for mere money." 
 
 "The position counts for something. * And it must 
 gratify a woman's vanity to capture a man who is made 
 as much of by women as you are." 
 
 Uncle Con laughed. He would have been angry if 
 he had not known the other side of the case, for it 
 seemed intended disrespect. 
 
 "Of course it isn't for love," Sherburne flung out 
 angrily. " She might love a young man, but when she 
 deliberately chooses between youth and love, and a man 
 double her age and all the material things of life — it is 
 easy to see what has swayed her."
 
 21 8 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Mr. Murray was displeased. 
 
 " Do you know of her having done this, Sherburne? " 
 he asked, incisively. " If you do not I cannot allow you 
 to traduce the woman who has accepted me. For after 
 all, I am not rich enough to be any overwhelming temp- 
 tation. And I do think she is truthful enough to have 
 declined my proffer if her affections were elsewhere en- 
 gaged." 
 
 That was the sting of it. He was not indignant at 
 being betrayed, he could not accuse Gertrude Maurice of 
 that ; he was angry that she had not loved him, and 
 with the unreasonable faith of youth he was quite sure 
 that in time he might have won her regard but for this 
 interference on his uncle's part. 
 
 " She liked me. She did the first day we met. I 
 can't explain — I'm not used to dissecting people's 
 feelings and writing them up. She has been — well, I had 
 grounds to think she would have come to love me pres- 
 ently. And I love her. I shall never love any one so 
 much again. I shall never have faith in a woman's smiles 
 or her sweet tones, if these can deceive. I suppose one 
 cannot blame her for doing the best she could for herself. 
 If you had not come — And Uncle Con, you are twice 
 her age ! " 
 
 He had that triumph over his rival — splendid youth. 
 And boy-like, he made the most of it in his flashing eyes. 
 
 " Not quite," returned Mr. Murray, with an aspect of 
 imperturbable good humor. ''And I shall never be so 
 near it again. She will be growing up to me. In ten 
 years more I shall not be double her age." 
 
 " But — it is a shame ! " 
 
 " I should like to be set back ten years for her sake, 
 yet they have been rich, satisfying years to me. But,
 
 A DISCORD OF UNREASON. 219 
 
 Sherburne, suppose you go and present your case to her. 
 Set it forth with all the advantages of youth. If you 
 win I will relinquish her, though I confess I love her as 
 well." 
 
 " It would be of no use." Sherburne could not bring 
 himself to admit that twice she had refused his overtures. 
 He was too sore and angry and obstinate to be just to 
 her. 
 
 " I suppose a woman is the best judge of whom she is 
 capable of loving," said the elder. 
 
 Sherburne pushed away his chair and rose with an in- 
 dignant gesture. All the rest of life would have a shadow 
 over it, a sorrow through it. She could have been in- 
 spiration to him and helped him to attain position, to work 
 for prosperity, for her. What was the use of being rich 
 and great if no one cared ! Just now there was no one 
 in his world but Gertrude Maurice. What would the 
 other achievements be to a lonely man. 
 
 "Sherburne," said his uncle, with grave sympathy, 
 "let us discuss the matter with a little reason. You 
 really ought not to burthen your young manhood with 
 an engagement. In a few years from this your ideal 
 will change. Honestly I think you can find a more fit- 
 ting mate when your time of real love comes. You will 
 learn that youth has more than one fancy. If Gertrude 
 had loved' you I should have cared enough about your 
 future to take it in hand and smooth the path for you. 
 You know your father would have felt hurt and disap- 
 pointed in a step like this, while he is doing his best for 
 you, has indeed given up his heart's desire that you 
 should follow out your own bent." 
 
 Sherburne stood by the window looking down on the 
 street. He could not accept any friendly overtures from
 
 220 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 the man who was to marry Miss Maurice. All the de- 
 lightful times were at an end. He had been deceived — 
 since they both believed the same way they would make 
 merry over his poor flouted love. • 
 
 " My dear boy " 
 
 That angered him afresh. At twenty, one had a right 
 to a man's feelings and dignity. 
 
 " Don't, Uncle Con ! Nothing can better it ! I can't 
 talk about it. I — well I had better say good-night at 
 once." 
 
 " But we are not going to part this way." 
 
 "I can't congratulate you. I suppose you will be 
 happy enough without it. I've just got to fight it out 
 and endure it. I can't stand anything more." 
 
 He picked up his hat and took his coat on his arm, 
 and the next instant had vanished. 
 
 Mr. Murray gave a soft, half-amused whistle and 
 looked at the door a moment as if the angry fellow might 
 return. 
 
 "He takes it harder than I imagined," he mused. 
 Had Gertrude unconsciously or from love of amusement 
 encouraged him ? Of course she knew when he proposed 
 to visit her at home that she was a source of interest to 
 him. Many girls would have enjoyed the flirtation. He 
 could not see that she had been seriously at fault. Had 
 his position biased her? She was doing very well, he 
 knew that, but he wanted an unselfish regard. Was he 
 quite sure he was getting it? 
 
 Sherburne stopped in the hall to put on his overcoat. 
 The night was sharp and cold as he emerged into it. He 
 had a desperate feeling that he would like to do some- 
 thing out of the ordinary course. Drinking he abhorred. 
 There was a very respectable place where young men
 
 A DISCORD OF UNREASON. 221 
 
 went to play, and in the private rooms there was regular 
 gambling. But he had only a little money with him, 
 and he had promised his mother that he would shun such 
 places. 
 
 So he tramped around scarcely noting whither he 
 went. Then it came into his mind that he would go 
 and have it out with Miss Maurice while he was in the 
 humor. She had taken all the joy out of his life — why 
 should she not know it ! 
 
 Yet he hesitated a moment on the stoop. A lady and 
 gentleman ascended the steps — he had seen them a time 
 or two, and they all went in together. 
 
 There were several other guests in the parlor. He sat 
 down in a small reception-room and awaited Miss Mau- 
 rice. It was some time before she came ; she had occu- 
 pied the moments in working herself up to a desperate 
 mood. 
 
 He bowed with a cold politeness. It was extremely 
 awkward, and somehow she had no heart for platitudes. 
 
 " I am glad you have happened in," she began, with 
 evident embarrassment. " There was something I wanted 
 you to know." 
 
 " Then I have been fortunate. I was not sure I would 
 be welcome." 
 
 • The voice had a touch of irony in it, and his demeanor 
 was extremely lofty. It suddenly roused her sense of 
 fun, and she wanted to laugh. That might have demol- 
 ished the tragic aspect. 
 
 "I want to tell you that — " she colored vividly in the 
 pause, " that I am engaged. It is best that you should 
 know it at once, as it will not be a long engagement." 
 
 "You are very honorable." 
 
 "You said that — while I was free — you should keep
 
 222 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 hoping." What made him take it so calmly, unless he 
 had already been informed ? 
 
 There was another long, awkward silence. She was 
 really vexed with him. 
 
 " I gave up my hope an hour or more ago," he said, 
 at length, in a cold tone. He meant to be as impressive 
 as possible. " I was taking supper with my uncle. It 
 shocked and surprised me. I had not supposed you 
 could be tempted with the goods of this world, merely." 
 
 "I was not tempted by anything," she returned, with 
 some spirit. " I will say now that I have long admired 
 your uncle. Once I might have answered a suggestion 
 in a manner to make it a proposal, and that was in our 
 first acquaintance, and a time when temptation to such a 
 step would have been doubly strong, as I was looking for 
 a standing place in the world's great army and nothing 
 seemed to promise a foothold. If I was not tempted 
 then I am not likely to be tempted now when I have a 
 secure position." 
 
 " You mean me to infer that you love him," Sherburne 
 commented, with the scornful incredulity of youth. 
 
 " I love him," Gertrude Maurice said, simply. " For 
 a year and more I have been comparing him with other 
 men I have seen. It was a vague ideal in my mind, and 
 I gave it no personality until we returned to the city. 
 But when I met him again I knew what influence had 
 shaped my ideal." 
 
 " Well, you have idealized him to the most extravagant 
 end. Let me tell you that you will be bitterly disap- 
 pointed. I can see how a girl might marry a man double 
 her age, but that she should set him above everything, 
 when there are so many splendid men in the world ! " 
 
 "I do not set him above every person. I admit
 
 A DISCORD OF UNREASON. 223 
 
 frankly that there are nobler, better, wiser, grander men 
 in the world. But he suits me. I am not a romantic 
 girl. I should have to admire and esteem the man I 
 love." 
 
 "I don't see what you find in him to admire," he 
 flung out, angrily. "He is generous and jolly and " — 
 yes, he would say it — "commonplace." 
 
 " And I am commonplace. I think you do not find a 
 great many people in the world like Mrs. Drayton, even 
 among geniuses," and she smiled. "And Mrs. Carew 
 has such a fine, broad standard, and is so interested in 
 the regeneration of mankind, indeed all the greater ques- 
 tions of life. I am rather frivolous and I do like my own 
 gratification in the things that please me. I suppose I 
 am selfish. Mr. Murray has a good deal of penetration 
 and understands human nature. I am quite sure he does 
 not idealize me at all, and I shall not have to live up to 
 a standard that requires thought and care every moment 
 of one's life. It would wear me out." 
 
 Her tone was a trifle impatient. 
 
 And this was the girl he had thought would be his in- 
 spiration ; who would watch every effort, who would not 
 only encourage him to achieve his best, but would bring 
 her own best, and so transfuse it into his life that it 
 should bear fruit about which there should be no ques- 
 tion, no claim. Perhaps Milton embodied the dream of 
 illimitable youth in his often quoted line : 
 
 " He for God only, she for God in him." 
 
 " O if you are going to reduce marriage to this com- 
 monplace level — " he paused and looked her over with 
 his superior air — "well, then I shall be sorry for Uncle 
 Con. He is worthy of something better."
 
 224 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " I think we get from each other those qualities and 
 affections that we are capable of inspiring, or drawing 
 out. If deep answers unto deep, how much more shall 
 soul answer to soul. But the cmestion or the desire must 
 not be something of which the other soul is ignorant." 
 
 He was too angry for any deep reasoning. He wanted 
 to hurt her, to sting her in some way, and no shaft was 
 sharp enough. He wanted to show her that he despised 
 her, yet down in his heart he. felt that even now he would 
 take her if he could. He would really triumph in her 
 throwing over Uncle Con for himself. He was incensed 
 that it was so. 
 
 She rose with a certain dignity. 
 
 "We shall not agree upon any point," she began, in a 
 well-bred, unemotional tone. "Only you will remember 
 that in our first talk in the park that evening I was frank 
 and honest with you. I said then I did not love you. To 
 make any marriage I hold that both parties should love." 
 
 " And you said you had no lover." 
 
 "I had none then," she answered, proudly. 
 
 "But you were in love without knowing that it would 
 be returned ! " he exclaimed, with an accent of triumph. 
 
 She colored warmly. " I do not think one can justly 
 call it love. One does not feel the heat of the blaze 
 when the wood is simply laid. We pass by more than 
 one ' might have been,' and recognize later in life that 
 they were among the things that never really were. I 
 had no thought when I answered you that Mr. Murray 
 would choose me from a world of charming women. And 
 I am glad he has. That is the measure of my love for 
 him. And now let me bid you good-night." 
 
 Her retreating gesture was unmistakable. He bowed 
 with a kind of ironical loftiness, but uttered no word.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A HARMONY IN GOLD. 
 
 \\ 7TTH all the arrogance and inexperience of youth 
 Sherburne Beaumanoir thought he had gone 
 through a fiery trial that would leave a mark on his 
 whole life. He had been deceived in the woman he 
 could have loved, nay, did love to a certain extent, as 
 far as one could love in the face of denial. He began to 
 collect and treasure up the moments that had been de- 
 lightful, the smiles bestowed upon him, the quick glances 
 from which he had wrested so much meaning, the little 
 sentences that he fancied went deep into the true state of 
 feeling. 
 
 She was a thorough-paced coquette. She had smiled 
 on others, doubtless used the same charm of tongue and 
 eye. All the time she had been warily considering the 
 best chances for marriage. Of course she would never 
 have waited three or four years for him. If it had not 
 been Uncle Con it would have been some one else. And 
 in the plenitude of his youthful generosity he sincerely 
 pitied Uncle Con. 
 
 He was moody and careless. Mrs. Townsend's doors 
 could not open any further welcome to him. He had 
 barred himself out. Yet he knew now that he had en- 
 joyed the trenchant talk, the music, the discussions 
 where intelligent people had brought out some of their 
 best. He found it also at Aunt Millicent's, but there 
 was no bright appreciation to add to his own, no one to 
 225
 
 226 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 translate fun or wit by the glance. He missed her every- 
 where else. And yet let him not forget that she was a 
 scheming, ambitious woman. 
 
 Bertram suffered from Sherburne's unequal and irrita- 
 ble temper, and he missed his cheerful assistance. Aunt 
 Lyndell noted the change and tried to fathom the cause, 
 but he guarded his secret with a kind of resentful pride. 
 He accepted invitations that he had quietly ignored be- 
 fore, and he soon found himself a favorite in society. A 
 handsome young fellow who could dance well and was 
 unexceptionable, was not likely to go a begging. But be- 
 ing up late at night did not add to his intellectual im- 
 provement. 
 
 "I don't know what has come across Sherburne," 
 said Doctor Carew, much perplexed. " He misses lec- 
 tures, his work is only half done, he is fitful and indif- 
 ferent, and a day or two ago was really impertinent. If 
 he does not want to study, he had better go home. The 
 boys complain of him." 
 
 " He certainly has changed in a month. O Bertram, 
 do you remember Gilford Lepage? It is a shame to re- 
 call anything derogatory to a man who has so nobly re- 
 deemed himself, but I have had a terrible fear about 
 Sherburne " 
 
 "No; I do not think his temptation lies that way. 
 Only young men at parties and suppers do drink more 
 wine than is good for them and are led into danger. At 
 the first sign of such a weakness, I should send him home. 
 But a young man who means to do anything with his life 
 cannot go to dances and eat late suppers every night and 
 be bright and fresh in the morning. Yet I do not want 
 to be unduly impatient. Many a young fellow has his 
 fling and is none the worse for it."
 
 A HARMONY IN GOLD. 227 
 
 " And we must remember that Sherburne is very at- 
 tractive, as his father was before him." 
 
 Doctor Carew smiled. 
 
 "And we always come back to the fact that Leonard 
 has made a fine man, and take courage. There is nothing 
 vicious or malevolent in Sherburne, though just now he 
 indulges in a good deal of youthful cynicism. But I hate 
 to have him fall behind in his class, when he could do so 
 well." 
 
 A day or two later they were at dinner when Lyndell 
 glanced up with a mirthful smile and said suddenly 
 
 "Guess the most unlikely person in the circle of our 
 friends who means to commit matrimony ! I was so 
 amazed ; — in fact I am not quite certain yet that the hero 
 thereof is in earnest. Only the wedding day has been set. ' ' 
 
 "Unlikely?" repeated Doctor Carew. "Then that 
 is some one past the bloom of youth — one of your pro- 
 teges ? ' ' 
 
 " Some one I have known from my youth up ; " and a 
 mischievous light gleamed from the brown eyes. 
 
 " Uncle Con," Sherburne said, with the air of having 
 been aware of it a long time. 
 
 "Con Murray!" Then Doctor Carew broke into a 
 heartsome laugh. "But the greater puzzle to me is the 
 person on whom his roving fancy has settled." 
 
 " Do you really think his fancy has roved so greatly? 
 I have never heard of his being engaged." 
 
 "He claims to have had many disappointments." 
 
 " They have not soured him evidently." 
 
 "I think him one of the most delightful of men," de- 
 clared the elder physician. " I can hardly imagine any 
 one good enough for him, since you and Milly are out of 
 the race. ' '
 
 228 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "O papa Carcw, how you do flatter!" And Dell 
 bestowed her most charming smile upon him. 
 
 "All this complimentary talk does not impart any 
 knowledge of the fair one to us. I want to know whether 
 it is wise, or whether the banns ought to be forbidden." 
 
 " It certainly isn't wise," interposed Sherburne. " But 
 I dare say no one will be able to forbid it. A girl half 
 his age who takes him because she is sharp enough to 
 know a good opportunity." 
 
 " O Sherburne, you really do not do her justice," said 
 Lyndell, earnestly. "I thought Miss Maurice rather 
 frothy and superficial at first, a most delightful summer 
 girl, but any one who can win such warm encomiums 
 from a woman like Mrs. Townsend, must have more than 
 ordinary merit. I have liked her very much this winter." 
 
 "Not Gertie Maurice, my girl!" exclaimed Bert 
 Beaumanoir, eagerly. " I was going to ask her presently 
 to wait for me. It wouldn't be near so much on the 
 other side." 
 
 "A dusty, musty professor would not have any time 
 to devote to a wife," said Aunt Lyndell. 
 
 " And if it wasn't out of order, I'd jump up and clap 
 hands while I executed a double shuffle," declared Bert. 
 "I'm just wild with delight. You know she comes in 
 Mrs. Kenneth's quite often and she is always so gay and 
 jolly. Why didn't Uncle Con stay and let us congratu- 
 late him? Auntie Dell, can't you ask them both to 
 dinner?" 
 
 "Not just now," said Mrs. Carew. "Miss Maurice 
 went to Delaware this morning, and in a few days Uncle 
 Con starts for Philadelphia with Mrs. Townsend, who is 
 to address some convention or other. Then he goes on 
 to Freeport, where he will be married. From thence they
 
 A HARMONY IN GOLD. 229 
 
 go to Washington and Sherburne House and return 
 home." 
 
 " O, it is too bad I can't see her ! They ought to have 
 let us know it long before. Sher, where did you hear 
 of it?" 
 
 "Uncle Con told me soon after he was engaged. I 
 was there at his rooms taking supper. I can't say that I 
 did Wke it," replied the young man, with caustic dryness. 
 
 "But why? Gertie's splendid! O, I say ! think of 
 her being aunt to all of us ! I just wish we could go to 
 Robin's Point next summer and have it all over again." 
 
 " I do not believe Uncle Con would be willing to have 
 you drag her around as you did that summer. She cer- 
 tainly had the best temper and the most fertile mind for 
 inventing pleasures. Yet it seems a little queer. And I 
 do think he is very much in love in his odd, amusing 
 way. And Con was my hero par excellence. O, the 
 lovely old times " 
 
 A certain tenderness suffused Lyndell Carew's beautiful 
 eyes. 
 
 "O Auntie Dell, do tell us about him again to-night. 
 My lessons are about done." 
 
 " O do, mamma ! " said a chorus of voices. 
 
 "Now you have gotten yourself in the retrospection 
 business," declared the doctor, in a tone of amusement. 
 
 "Auntie Dell," began Bertram, "do you suppose any 
 girl out of a story ever had so many things happen to 
 her? I do so like to hear about that old time when you 
 danced under the apple-tree, and Grandmamma Murray 
 was your mamma, because the beautiful English one was 
 dead. Mamma tells us about it sometimes. And all the 
 aunts and uncles were little children. Grandpapa ought 
 to have kept the little old house and the apple-tree ' '
 
 230 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " But I liked that about the dog who wouldn't let you 
 go that morning " 
 
 "And the running away," said Honor. The dessert 
 was finished and Honor came and twined her arms 
 around her mother's neck. " O mamma, how did you 
 have the courage ? ' ' 
 
 " I like best the getting well at Grandpapa Carew's," 
 and shy Millicent came to Aunt Neale and patted her 
 soft, white hair. "I always think of it when I read Pil- 
 grim's Progress. And the chamber whose name was 
 Peace. And Aunt Milly bringing the lovely gown." 
 
 " If it was not for the ' two or three witnesses ' I should 
 think I was drawing on my imagination," declared Lyn- 
 dell, glancing up at her husband. " O, children, chil- 
 dren ! " 
 
 They thronged about her now as they often did and 
 she could hardly step this way or that. Sherburne rose 
 haughtily, vexed that the announcement of Uncle Con's 
 marriage had called forth no animadversion, and that no 
 one had seen through the scheming Miss Maurice. Ran- 
 dolph Carew pleaded an engagement with a neighboring 
 friend where he often spent his evenings, and the crowd 
 of children led their mother to the sitting-room and 
 gathered about her, putting cushions on the floor so they 
 could surround her and clasp her hand and put a cheek 
 on her knee or even caress her gown. They never tired 
 of hearing about their mother's young life, and Uncle 
 Con and Aunt Tessy. But it took Uncle Con to do the 
 subject full justice. 
 
 He was very busy during the few intervening days. 
 The tenant fortunately wanted to go out of his house, 
 having business elsewhere. There were repairs to be 
 made but the furnishing would be left until their return.
 
 A HARMONY IN GOLD. 231 
 
 Gertrude had felt afraid at first that the marriage would 
 be appointed for some church in the city, and was quite 
 delighted when Mr. Murray assented so readily to her 
 proposal. 
 
 " It is a benighted little country town," she explained. 
 "And yet if there is any virtue in antiquity, there are 
 families who have lived there two or three hundred years, 
 with pedigrees that would drive some people about here 
 wild with envy. But I often think of the toad that was 
 buried in some Egyptian place or mummy pyramid and 
 came to life, and was only a toad after all. The cycles 
 of Cathay are not everything. Mamma is very proud of 
 our family, and papa, who missed the fortune, had only 
 one relative in the world that we ever knew of." 
 
 Mrs. Maurice was very much gratified by the announce- 
 ment of her daughter's engagement, only she did not quite 
 see why Mr. Murray could not have made up his mind 
 that first summer, and so spared Gertrude all these months 
 of servitude that she should hate to remember, no matter 
 how pleasant they had been to the girl, or how much she 
 had gained by the experience. Agnes was delighted, and 
 took upon herself the preparations for the wedding, which 
 were to be very simple. Gertrude would come home a 
 week before. Mr. Murray would reach Freeport in the 
 morning, and the marriage would be at noon. 
 
 It was with curiously contradictory emotions that Ger- 
 trude returned home this time. She knew now that she 
 had grown entirely out of the old life, and she wondered 
 if she had a right to do this ? And she also understood 
 that it would be useless to try to raise any of the others 
 to her standard. The kindest and truest love would be 
 to make them happy in their own way if that could be 
 done. There were limitations to all natures. Mrs. Dray-
 
 232 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 ton recognized that principle in her dealing with ambi- 
 tious young people who sighed for a career. Mrs. Town- 
 send did the same, though she had less patience with 
 would-be geniuses. 
 
 There was a great deal of pleasure to be drawn from 
 common things, and in a certain way it did demand a fine 
 order of appreciation, and combination. Her mother's 
 satisfaction would rest chiefly in the fact that her five 
 daughters had married, for she would not be quite con- 
 tent if one of them remained single. Agnes' delight was 
 in a home that was truly her own. She made it a centre 
 from which to radiate all benign influences. She, Ger- 
 trude, had ceased to question whether Agnes loved Mr. 
 Rowdon or not from the simple fact that when she ac- 
 cepted a duty she performed it religiously. She was not 
 given to straying out of her pasture, she lingered under 
 shady trees when the midday sun was hot, she found the 
 choicest bits of grass and clover blooms. Could one 
 control love? Perhaps the mistake was in considering 
 ideal love the only kind. 
 
 Agnes and Luella came down to meet her. Agnes 
 took in her radiant eyes, the softened expression about 
 her mouth and the general impression of happiness. Lu 
 wondered how she had made her complexion so fine and 
 clear, and at the plumes that nodded on her hat, the 
 velvet roses drooping at the back, the fur-trimmed coat 
 that fitted her jauntily ; and the cloth gown with its un- 
 mistakable style. 
 
 The only thing that had changed much at home was 
 Elsie, who had shot up into a tall girl. She went to 
 school of course, but to Agnes' sorrow she was not bright 
 at her books. The entertaining weeklies that Gertrude 
 sent home had no interest for her outside of the cooking
 
 A HARMONY IN GOLD. 233 
 
 and housewifely column. They had achieved a fine look- 
 ing, rather elderly colored woman, who never objected to 
 younger hands sharing her work. But Mr. Maurice was 
 well cared for, and gaining a little in flesh. 
 
 Mrs. Maurice kept mostly to her room during the cold 
 months, and had a cheerful log fire on the hearth. She 
 still darned her laces and the tablecloths, she read and 
 dozed and carped at all things, and bewailed the fact of 
 the lost fortune. She received Gertrude with a great 
 deal of impressiveness, since her opportunities in the 
 great world had culminated in marriage. 
 
 " Though I do think he might have paid us a little 
 more attention than just to come the morning of the 
 marriage," she said, when Gertrude had laid aside her 
 hat and coat and seated herself in the glow of the cheer- 
 ful blaze. " His letter to your father was very proper 
 and respectful, but I should like the town to know there 
 was absolutely nothing reprehensible or ungentlemanly 
 about him. And we really shall not get acquainted with 
 him at all. When one's daughters marry, a mother feels 
 that she would like to know the sort of man to whom she 
 is trusting her child." 
 
 The weak, complaining tone was what Gertrude had 
 heard all her life, but this aspect of the case had not 
 presented itself with any special force. She had written 
 freely to Agnes about Mr. Murray, she had sent several 
 dutiful letters to her mother on the subject. 
 
 " He is a very busy man, mamma, and it would have 
 been hard for me to get away, since I was to resign my 
 position. If I had been living at home he would have 
 visited me here of course." 
 
 "And you know I never did approve of this chasing 
 round the world when one has a home. It robs a woman
 
 234 THE HEIR QE SHERBURNE. 
 
 of delicacy and self-respect, and I think a man never 
 feels quite the same about her. The proper thing would 
 have been for you to come home as soon as you were 
 engaged." 
 
 To miss that delicious informality of calls morning 
 noon or night, just as Mr. Murray had half an hour's 
 leisure, would have taken away half the charm of the 
 engagement. And truth to tell she needed her salary 
 for her wedding outfit. 
 
 " But Mrs. Townsend was like a mother to me," she 
 interposed. 
 
 "No woman can be like a mother who has never had 
 a child. What does she know of the responsibilities, 
 the anxieties ? And a person who has no more refined 
 and womanly aim than running about the world and 
 lecturing on all sorts of subjects ! I have often felt that 
 it was not a suitable place for you, but you would have 
 your own way. ' ' 
 
 Gertrude made no reply. She could have persuaded 
 Mr. Murray to come before, but she had admitted that 
 the town was dull, the hotel very primitive, and she 
 knew they could not well entertain a man used to all the 
 appliances of rather luxurious living. She had tried 
 hard not to have any sense of shame about the poverty, 
 the sort of slipshod living, the lack of the little observ- 
 ances of society, and her mother's inconsequence as well 
 as the quality that seemed so like pretentiousness. A 
 young man might have amused himself, she really was 
 afraid it would prove tiresome to Mr. Murray, since they 
 could not well go rambling about or sit out of doors. 
 
 Her father appeared heartily delighted. She spent 
 much of her time with Agnes who had planned every- 
 thing out, it seemed. Luella was to be maid of honor in
 
 A HARMONY IN GOLD. 235 
 
 a light blue cashmere gown and picture hat ; the little 
 girls were to wear white over pink slips and carry baskets 
 of flowers. Gertrude had announced in the beginning 
 that she was to be married in a dark blue cloth traveling 
 costume, and blue hat, and go away directly, but she did 
 finally consent to returning home for a half hour and 
 cutting the bride cake. 
 
 "If it could have been in the evening so that we 
 might have had a dance," complained Luella, a little 
 hurt also that she was not to walk up the aisle with an 
 attendant. 
 
 That there was no wedding trousseau to be shown and 
 no gifts to amaze the townspeople was another grievance 
 to Mrs. Maurice. Still, she had to admit that her son- 
 in-law was distinguished looking and unexceptionable; 
 cordial in his manner, and with no superior airs. She 
 put on her black velvet gown and point lace, and it 
 seemed as if all the town turned out at the church and 
 dropped in to the reception. 
 
 "I like him so much," Agnes said. "I am sure you 
 will be happy. And Gertie, there is no pleasure like 
 one's own home." 
 
 Con Murray put his wife in the seat by the window, 
 and sat down beside her, as they were starting out on 
 their new life. Then he smiled at her and she thought 
 there was no blessing in life like love. 
 
 They were still in the midst of gayeties at Washington. 
 Congress had been more than usually interesting, and 
 there had been an influx of foreign visitors. As soon as 
 Princess had gone home she had been sent for as there 
 was something special that might never occur again. 
 And now Mrs. Beaumanoir had come up, as much to 
 welcome Uncle Con's wife as to have a glimpse of the
 
 236 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 giddy whirl. Gertrude found herself received with a 
 cordiality that touched her, knowing the fine quality of 
 these people. 
 
 " And when you see how happy I mean to make him, 
 and how much I shall love him, Princess," Gertrude 
 exclaimed, when the young girl had come in to dine and 
 go to the theatre afterward with them, as Uncle Con de- 
 clared he wanted one little bit of her all to himself, 
 " you will quite forgive me for taking him. And we are 
 going to have a pretty home and gather all the girls in it 
 as Mrs. Drayton does. We count on a great deal of 
 you." 
 
 Princess colored delicately. 
 
 "I want you to forget that," she said, in a soft, ap- 
 pealing tone. " I was hurt and jealous, for I thought 
 then no one had so good a right to Uncle Con as I. 
 Somehow we had never thought of his caring for any 
 one. It was not because it wasjw/. I should have felt 
 the same about Ruth or Kitty Saxon. And the knowl- 
 edge came so suddenly upon me. But I am older and 
 ever so much wiser, and when I knew that he cared for 
 you and wanted you in his life — O Gertie, I am afraid 
 I never could have forgiven you then if you had not 
 loved him. And I was so glad ' ' 
 
 There were tears in her beautiful eyes, yet she smiled 
 through them like sunshine in a summer shower. Ger- 
 trude clasped her in her arms. 
 
 " And it was your lovely generosity that brought it all 
 about. I sometimes wonder what my life would have 
 been if you had not invited me to your splendid island ! 
 Do you realize what munificent things you have done out 
 of your unselfish soul, your desire that other people shall 
 be happy? So few think of it. It has made my life
 
 A HARMONY IN GOLD. 237 
 
 radiantly complete, it has blessed Ruth Ensign and given 
 her the dearest friend, a second mother. O, do you 
 ever hear about Kitty Saxon ? ' ' 
 
 "Yes," answered Princess, coloring vividly. Kitty's 
 letters were peans of thanksgiving for all she had learned 
 and enjoyed that summer. She was living a nobler, 
 truer life, learning the duties of sister and daughter. 
 Sometimes Princess read parts of them aloud to her 
 mother, but the adoring praise from the full heart was 
 meant for no eyes but hers and therefore sacred. 
 
 "Kitty is very well and happy though nothing re- 
 markable has happened to her. But it is queer," and she 
 glanced up archly, " it was Uncle Con's idea altogether, 
 the very goodness of it. He proposed we should invite 
 some girls who were not likely to have a summering else- 
 where." 
 
 " And we never quite know all that will come out of a 
 little kindness. It makes us quite humble and ashamed 
 sometimes that we do not do more little things instead of 
 waiting to do the great ones. Is that the weak things of 
 the world confounding the wise ? " 
 
 Certainly Uncle Con was very happy, and Gertie for all 
 her fun and nonsense adored him. 
 
 Princess wondered at times why the adoration, and the 
 knowledge that another had the best right to her favorite 
 uncle gave her no pain. He was still as charming and 
 devoted to her. And the old plan that she should be the 
 housekeeper in his pretty home would have been quite 
 impracticable. She had so many duties to others. It 
 was such a busy, happy world — yes, she was quite sure it 
 was happy. 
 
 There was a rather long wait between the second and 
 third scene of the play that evening. Some one came
 
 238 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 down the aisle and paused to speak to Mr. Murray. 
 Princess' face was in a rosy flush. Gertrude felt rather 
 than saw it. 
 
 This was Mr. Sevier. Mr. Murray had met him the 
 day before and now introduced him to Gertrude. Then 
 he leaned over and spoke to Princess. 
 
 " I wonder," he asked, presently, of the gentleman sit- 
 ting next to Princess, "if 1 could induce you to change 
 seats with me. Mine is on the east aisle and equally de- 
 sirable." 
 
 "Oh, with pleasure," and the gentleman rose as he 
 thought, " This must be that pretty little girl's lover." 
 
 "Thank you very much," said Mr. Sevier. 
 
 He took the seat and began a low conversation with 
 Princess. He had been delighted to meet Mr. Murray, 
 whom he had heard of through various channels, and 
 had seen the notice of his marriage in the papers, as he 
 was in some degree public property. 
 
 "What a pretty young wife," he continued with a 
 smile. 
 
 Was she pretty? Yes, she looked so now with that 
 serene and joyous smile. 
 
 "She was my schoolmate," Princess answered. 
 
 " And is she going to be aunt to all you girls? " he 
 asked in an amused tone. 
 
 "O no," smilingly. "He is mamma's brother, so 
 he has only us Beaumanoirs in his train." 
 
 Mr. Sevier nodded. 
 
 " I have not seen you since Sunday. Where have you 
 hidden yourself away ? " 
 
 It was a very tender tone even if it was a whisper. 
 
 " Mamma came up. And we have been so engrossed 
 with my uncle."
 
 A HARMONY IN GOLD. 239 
 
 " I heard you were coming here to-night. I bought 
 out a friend's interest on the chance of seeing you. But 
 I began to think I never should find you. That large 
 woman over yonder in the velvet coat hid you from my 
 view." 
 
 Princess leaned over a little to look. 
 
 "And you were not at Mrs. Headley's last evening." 
 
 The tone bespoke regret that was nattering, yet Prin- 
 cess did not rejoice in it. 
 
 " We found we had to send regrets in the morning." 
 
 "I didn't stay at all late. I missed you and your 
 cotisins in the dances." 
 
 Mr. Sevier had a true Southerner's love for dancing. 
 
 "But there were other girls that danced," she re- 
 turned, archly, compelling herself to smile carelessly. 
 
 He made a just perceptible motion of the shoulders. 
 
 Then the curtain went up. They had come to the 
 love scene of the play, that was almost a tragedy. The 
 exquisite color of youth and sympathy, and perhaps a 
 deeper feeling kept wandering over the sweet girl face. 
 But at last triumphant love was crowned victor. 
 
 "I was afraid it was not going to end right," Mr. 
 Sevier said, with a little catch in his voice. " Plays have 
 no excuse for ending unhappily." 
 
 "I suppose real life has at times," Princess replied, 
 gravely. 
 
 "Love ought always to bring happiness in the end. 
 The trials enhance the real value and strength of it. I 
 know of course that it does not. ' ' 
 
 They were pouring out into the aisles, friends bowing or 
 speaking briefly. Mr. Murray glanced over Gertrude's 
 shoulder and nodded assenting] y to the young man who 
 took upon himself the protection of Princess.
 
 240 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "Let us go and have* a little refreshment," Mr. 
 Murray said. "I am thankful the wisacres have decided 
 it is a good thing to eat late in the evening or before re- 
 tiring. When your sympathies have been wrought upon 
 there is a drain in the physical. Did you ever consider, 
 Mr. Sevier, how many theories there are in regard to 
 what you must do or refrain from, to keep the feeble 
 spark of life in good shining order. Every few years 
 there is a revolution and the old regulations are cast out. 
 We still live. I believe there are more deaths of old 
 people now than any time in the previous history of the 
 world." 
 
 " Then it would appear that old age is the thing we 
 should beware of, since that seems most fatal." 
 
 Mr. Murray laughed. "There are no old people any 
 more until you do come to the death rate," he returned. 
 
 They had a rather jolly little supper, and at the en- 
 trance to the hotel Mr. Sevier said "good-night." 
 
 "I have been hearing strange tales of you, demure 
 little Miss Princess," began her uncle, in a teasing tone 
 of confidence. " Pearl declared this morning that you 
 had more admirers than the other girls, and that every 
 time you went home there were so many lamentations 
 they were forced to recall you at once. I did admire the 
 aplomb of this young man to-night in asking a stranger 
 to change seats with him." 
 
 "'Nothing venture nothing have,'" appended Ger- 
 trude. 
 
 " He seems a very nice young fellow. But I expect to 
 carry you up to the city with me. Will Washington be 
 shrouded in mourning, or will they follow us? " 
 
 "They are not in such solemn earnest as that," re- 
 turned Princess, lightly.
 
 A HARMONY IN GOLD. 24 1 
 
 She was to stay with them. After Gertrude had seen 
 her disposed of for the night, as she stood taking pins out 
 of her laces and her hair, she said, 
 
 "Mr. Sevier is very much in earnest. I do wonder if 
 Princess " 
 
 " Princess is hardly out of childhood. The idea ! " 
 
 "Girlhood, you mean. And girls have fancies, and 
 fancies ripen in congenial soil." 
 
 " During the honeymoon it is your bounden duty to 
 pay' attention to your own love-making," he said, with 
 some half-laughing kisses. 
 
 " And have no eyes or ears for any one' beside " 
 
 " Your own familiar tyrant." 
 
 But he was thinking how strange it was for little Prin- 
 cess to be grown up enough to have a lover when it 
 seemed only the other day that his sister Tessy was mar- 
 ried to Leonard Beaumanoir. But then Sherburne was 
 old enough to have a fling at the tree of knowledge. 
 How the years had run on ! Children were the dial 
 marks.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 TOLD IN A GLANCE. 
 
 44 T ISTEN to this," said Mr. Murray the following 
 
 -^-* morning, as they sat over their breakfast. ' ' The 
 next lecture in the Smithsonian course is to be to-night. 
 And I have a mind to make you guess who is to distin- 
 guish himself." 
 
 "Because you think I have all the lecturers of note 
 written down in the back part of my brain?" asked 
 Gertrude, saucily. "Let me see — this is scientific, so it 
 is not Mrs. Townsend." 
 
 " You ungrateful girl ! I have half a mind to report 
 you. Now Princess ! She has lost her chance." 
 
 " Uncle Carew. He was here in the early part of the 
 winter and addressed some convention." 
 
 "You certainly will not make your fortune at guessing 
 how many beans there are in the jar." 
 
 "But we can both tell how many black beans make 
 five," retorted Princess. "This is a problem. The 
 other mere guesswork." 
 
 " How trivial and inconsequent you both are ! And 
 how soon old friends fade out of mind. Now in the sum- 
 mer I remember so well that I could recall nearly every 
 one who figured in it, when you girls, like a flock of 
 sheep, went star-gazing and peered into closets and wash- 
 bowls, and pans and cups, to see the beginnings of things, 
 and you have forgotten the leader thereof." 
 
 " O, not Professor Kenneth ! " cried Gertrude. 
 
 "Why not, I should like to know? Have you fallen 
 242
 
 TOLD IN A GLANCE. 243 
 
 so far from your first ideal that you cannot admit any 
 wisdom remaining in it ? " 
 
 " He was not my ideal that I remember," said the 
 young wife. " I really think, then, it was Bert Beauma- 
 noir, but he had a divided heart for me. Can't we go 
 and hear him ? Princess, wouldn't you like to? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Princess, under her breath, with a sound 
 almost like a sigh. It was not what she had meant to 
 say, and now she was chilled with a sort of surprise that 
 she had uttered it. 
 
 " If there are no other engagements," she*continued, 
 recovering her self-possession, and wondering if she had 
 turned pale. 
 
 " That is quite odd. O, let us go by all means. How 
 do you get admitted?" and Gertrude glanced up. 
 
 " I shall manage it some way. O " 
 
 The waiter handed him a card. He glanced at it. 
 "Bring the lady up here, and some hot coffee," he or- 
 dered. 
 
 The lady was Mrs. Beaumanoir. 
 
 " O you lazy people," she exclaimed. " I am a fairy 
 godmother who has come in a carriage, and it is a fine, 
 sunny morning for driving. Aunt Julia and Ray offer 
 you a luncheon as a reward for a visit. Violet has sent 
 the carriage to be returned at one." 
 
 "Capital. Take the ladies and I will join you at 
 lunch. And Tessy, Professor Kenneth lectures to-night. 
 Let us go and give him a welcome." 
 
 "O yes, and hear direct from the boys. How did 
 you know it?" 
 
 He passed her over the paper and poured out a cup of 
 coffee. 
 
 " If you are going to drive you will need something to
 
 244 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 stir your blood. Meanwhile I will find out about this, 
 and get admittance for half a dozen. When he catches 
 sight of our eager faces, he will feel inspired. Then I 
 have some other matters on hand. The day wanes." 
 
 They all rose. It was a magnificent morning, ami 
 Gertrude's one previous visit to Washington had been 
 brief and hurried. This was delightful. The moments 
 flew by on wings ; there was so much to see that they 
 were a little late and found Mr. Murray before them. 
 He had also invited Ray to join their evening entertain- 
 ment, and she had accepted with delight. 
 
 They dismissed the carriage, as they meant to have a 
 little visit with Aunt Julia. 
 
 "It's so odd to think Gertie Maurice should be your 
 uncle's wife," exclaimed Ray, with a half eager, half sur- 
 prised light in her eyes. " She has grown prettier, I am 
 sure. I was once a little jealous that Uncle Win should 
 admire her. What silly things girls are ! Except you, 
 Princess. You were always sweet and wise." 
 
 "Not always," said Princess, faintly. 
 
 " And you like her ? You do not really mind ? " 
 
 "I am afraid I was a little jealous once, as well." 
 Princess laughed and flushed. " But she docs suit Uncle 
 Con, and he loves her. I think they will be very 
 happy." 
 
 "If she loves him. You know we never did quite 
 make her out. But you had her all the summer at Mel- 
 chias. O, I shall be just delighted to see Professor Ken- 
 neth. And Mrs. Kenneth sent me such a lovely invita- 
 tion to visit them. Do you mean to go up to the city, 
 Princess? Uncle Con says he intends to take you." 
 
 " O, I must go home. I have been away so much." 
 
 Princess seemed to herself in a sort of dream. She
 
 TOLD IN A GLANCE. 245 
 
 talked and said all the bright things that came into her 
 mind, but there was another side to her that did not seem 
 to warm up with all the gayety. Uncle Con made a good 
 story out of the way Mr. Sevier had appropriated her, 
 and Ray gave instances of his devotion that brought a 
 bright color to her cheek. 
 
 She had let it go on with a vague sort of consciousness 
 that fate determined many things. She had been much 
 admired, and of all the people she had met, Mr. Sevier 
 pleased her most. She had more than once sheltered 
 herself from other obtrusive attentions under the shadow 
 of his regard. 
 
 Her father had been proud of her pretty successes, 
 much prouder than she knew. His disappointment about 
 Sherburne did not decrease as time went on, the oppor- 
 tunity the boy had thrown aside grew more important 
 every day. And then Doctor Carew really was not en- 
 thusiastic over him, while he had no end of praise for 
 Bertram. So he had come to take a very fervent interest 
 in his sweet, attractive daughter, and he liked young 
 Sevier, who had a good family and some money back of 
 him, and was quite a favorite with society mammas. He 
 had a feeling of elation that Princess could hold her own 
 so well with Pearl. And girls married sooner or later. 
 Marriage really was best for them. His sister, Fanny, 
 had gained nothing by staying single, he remembered. 
 She had been twice as lovable and attractive after she 
 was married. 
 
 Princess would fain have excused herself from joining 
 the party, but there was not a shadow of pretext. She 
 had done nothing to tire herself out, she could not even 
 conjure up a headache. There was some inexplicable 
 shrinking that she was afraid to look into closely enough
 
 246 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 to give a reason. The Christmas visit had tried her reso- 
 lution, but she was growing more steadfast in the path 
 she considered honorable. If the engagement of Ruth 
 could once be announced, she would have courage 
 enough to go on bravely. 
 
 There certainly was a fine audience. Intelligence was 
 well represented, and society was not in the background. 
 The winter's "fad" had been a renewed interest in in- 
 tellectual pursuits. 
 
 Professor Kenneth had taken on a little more flesh, 
 and stood much more erect. Home life had developed 
 the silent side of his nature, and his sister-in-law's in- 
 fluence was slowly evolving the attractive man lying 
 dormant. He had come to understand that mere per- 
 sonality had much to do with enforcing truths and gain- 
 ing attention, and that any advantage satisfactorily used 
 for the good of mankind did not tend to personal vanity. 
 He was so much more interesting than some of the re- 
 cent speakers that he really delighted his audience. 
 
 Now and then he half paused to appeal to his hearers, 
 and in doing this he caught sight of Mr. Murray. He 
 glanced again. That must be his wife. There was Mrs. 
 Beaumanoir and Ray Stanwood and — yes, Princess, who 
 had been so interested in all these subjects at Melchias. 
 A thrill of pleasure sped through him that they had 
 cared to come, and he received a new inspiration, his 
 voice had a clearer sound. 
 
 There was some applause when he had finished. He 
 begged his immediate friends to excuse him a moment 
 and hurried down, for he saw the party were in no haste 
 to leave. 
 
 " What a pleasant rencounter," he exclaimed, taking 
 Mr. Murray's hand. You surprised all your friends
 
 TOLD IN A GLANCE. 247 
 
 finely, but I suppose congratulations are not amiss. You 
 have many heartsome wishes, Mrs. Murray, from your 
 old friends. And Mrs. Beaumanoir " 
 
 As he took Princess' small hand in his, their eyes met. 
 She was utterly unconscious of the betraying sweetness 
 in hers, but she saw the knowledge in his that she knew 
 then her heart had hungered for. She forgot Ruth, 
 everything in the overwhelming revelation. He felt the 
 hand tremble in his, he longed to hold it but there was 
 Miss Stanwood with her charming smile. 
 
 They all seemed to talk together as they went down 
 the aisle, quite in the rear of the crowd. 
 
 " It was a great surprise," Mr. Murray was explaining. 
 " I saw it in this morning's paper, and I said we must 
 come to swell the audience so you would not be chilled 
 by empty seats. But we might have saved our pity. 
 You had a very appreciative assemblage." 
 
 " I am thankful for the pity, even, if that brought you," 
 smiling with a transfiguring gladness. 
 
 "O, the girls were eager for a chance to fill their 
 minds once more with solid substance, after dancing and 
 flirting all winter. Do you rush back to-night? " 
 
 "O no. I have to attend a meeting to-morrow morn- 
 ing, and I dine at night with some guests from Germany. 
 Meanwhile — may I call upon you, Mrs. Beaumanoir ? 
 Are you all staying together? " 
 
 Tessy really longed to see him. He would know if 
 matters were not going right with Sherburne. So they 
 exchanged cards, and the professor found Princess' hand 
 to press in it a meaning good-bye, since it did not evade 
 him. 
 
 The subtle consciousness that she was held in some- 
 thing more exquisitely personal than mere esteem thrilled
 
 248 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 her with a power she could not quite control. She had 
 been shutting it out for months, not even glancing at the 
 possibility. Though she had a fine, sensitive organiza- 
 tion she was not morbid. She did not covet what could 
 not of right belong to her. And she recognized the fact 
 that Ruth would have all the opportunities to foster a re- 
 gard ; she would also have the silent influence of Mrs. 
 Kenneth's affectionate preference. 
 
 The intellectual life , had a great charm for her. She 
 could content herself with the round of daily duties, and 
 she was too retiring to enter any arena of thought her- 
 self. She did almost envy Aunt Millicent her gift of at- 
 tracting a wide and wonderful interest. She had written 
 schoolgirl verses, one or two little things had been set to 
 music by a friend who said they sang themselves. No 
 one knew or ever would know how she would have liked 
 being a genius and stirring the hearts of others. 
 
 But she must be content to shine with reflected light, 
 and for the last six months she had been accepting her 
 duties as a daughter and sister with a sweetness that was 
 almost resignation, that would attain to that grace by and 
 by, though she knew it had not quite reached it yet. 
 Giving up was not always resignation. 
 
 She had been very happy during these weeks with 
 Aunt Julia and Ray, and at Aunt Amory's. Every day 
 had been full of pleasure, and praise that was not alto- 
 gether flattery, the enjoyment that is so adorable in 
 youth. She did like it. But she would not want a whole 
 lifetime of it. Aunt Violet found better things, but 
 then Aunt Violet had a husband and children, and Daisy 
 might be a genius. 
 
 She remembered that the old aunts, Miss Sherburne 
 and Miss Carrick, had lived long single lives and were
 
 TOLD IN A GLANCE. 249 
 
 happy in their old age. But when a young girl not yet 
 out of her teens, looks down the long, long years and 
 does not see quite the thing she wants, no story of love 
 to illumine life, the prospect is not inspiriting. Only 
 one does not often indulge in such farsight, and neither 
 can one live in the future. It has to be the present, first. 
 
 So Princess had been making herself happy in the en- 
 joyment of society. Pearl simply absorbed everything 
 and took a delicious satisfaction. 
 
 " The sort of pain in it," said Violet Osborne, one day, 
 "is its evanescence. You know it is shifting, changing, 
 dropping out. There are those two charming Fairfax 
 girls that I should like to have a lifelong friendship with. 
 They are going abroad in a fortnight for two years. 
 Both will probably be married. Our lives will run on 
 different lines. Then there is that lovely Celia Nixon. 
 This is her father's last year as a representative, and he 
 is disenchanted with politics. Celia will go back home 
 and marry some one." 
 
 "And Violet Osborne will go back to California and 
 marry some one," said Pearl, imitating her cousin's tone 
 of discouragement, at which the two others laughed. 
 " Girls, marriage is the grand panacea after all. But let 
 us not hurry too much. Life is still sweet." 
 
 There had been so many happy marriages, Princess re- 
 membered, so few unhappy ones. Did her mother have 
 an ideal before she was married, and did her father just 
 fill it, she wondered. 
 
 She tried not to speculate on marriage, and said over 
 some verses to make her sleepy. She had a great many 
 to love her. Perhaps she and Bertram would be the sort 
 of friends some famous people had been, and she could 
 take a fervent interest in his life.
 
 250 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 A note came for her in the morning. " She must not 
 forget they were to go to Celia Nixon's last reception, 
 and to make some other calls. Then there was the 
 dance at Mrs. Rheid's. She was to send her party gown 
 over, to come to dinner and stay all night. The carriage 
 would call at three. No excuses received. After that 
 Uncle Con could take his turn." 
 
 "O yes, mamma, I had almost forgotten about the 
 dance. Mrs. Rheid has been so charming to us, and we 
 are coming to the last of the gayeties. She goes to 
 Florida next week. And Celia Nixon is such a lovely 
 girl. O dear, to think you may never see some people 
 again ! ' ' 
 
 " And the professor is to call this afternoon." 
 A quick rift of color went up the sweet, youthful face, 
 and the eyes drooped with a peculiar consciousness. 
 
 "You will like to talk to him about the boys. You 
 will not miss me." 
 
 " I think he will," said the mother, at a venture. " He 
 was very glad to see you last night." 
 
 "He was glad to see all of us. I can imagine the sur- 
 prise and pleasure." 
 
 A quick ear detected a certain tremulousness in the 
 tone. But a young girl's heart was too sacred to be med- 
 dled with. 
 
 Only Tessy Beaumanoir had a secret, inexplicable 
 sympathy with the patient, humble lover, whose self- 
 esteem where Women were concerned was so small, and 
 to whom this one girl-woman would be the love of a life- 
 time. How different men were ! Leonard had rushed 
 in at the very beginning of his fancy, and swept all be- 
 fore him by his vehemence. Dared she give the lover 
 any encouragement to take home with him ?
 
 TOLD IN A GLANCE. 251 
 
 The carriage came with the two girls and the maid. 
 There was a curious embarrassment as Princess kissed 
 her mother. And then she exclaimed in a breathless 
 manner 
 
 " Mamma, you will explain that I had to go." 
 
 Miss Nixon's reception was rather sad with its fare- 
 wells. The calls were made, the dinner dispatched, and 
 Mrs. Amory superintended the toilettes of the three 
 girls, whom she was to entrust to Mrs. Rheid for the 
 evening. Pearl was in high spirits, Violet rather pensive 
 and Princess thoughtful. 
 
 She had need to be thoughtful. Mr. Sevier was early in 
 the field. 
 
 " What a lovely card ! " he exclaimed. " ' White and 
 unwritten ' still. You see it even stirs me to poetry. I 
 am almost ashamed to mark it up, but I wish ' ' 
 
 "What do you wish? I may not be in a generous 
 mood again this evening?" she returned with a smile. 
 " O, there are three I am to keep for Mr. Rheid. He is 
 going south with his mother. It has been a day of fare- 
 wells." 
 
 She took her card and made a little star at the three 
 dances. 
 
 "O, I wanted that mazourka especially," he said, in a 
 disappointed tone. " And my wish was " 
 
 " What is a wish worth that is so hard to remem- 
 ber?" 
 
 " It isn't hard to remember. It was — that I could be 
 as sure of writing on some one's heart," in a low, plead- 
 ing voice. 
 
 " Mrs. Glasse's recipe — " with a smile of the utmost 
 gayety she could command. 
 
 " Yes, one has to have some influence in a heart before
 
 252 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 one can awake a lasting interest, or hope for a permanent 
 impression." 
 
 Princess colored with embarrassment. 
 
 Some one else came to ask for her card. 
 
 " O, you have taken too many," to Mr. Sevier. 
 " Three is the utmost limit. You must revise them." 
 
 He did it unwillingly. Then Mr. Rheid came as his 
 was the opening dance. 
 
 Mr. Sevier she noticed went over to the window and 
 talked to a wall-flower who was neither young nor 
 pretty, but who had a sister with both requisites. And 
 Princess knew he was watching her. He came back to 
 her at once. 
 
 How had she allowed him to take this delicate air of 
 appropriation with her? And why did she inwardly re- 
 sent it now? It seemed as if she had liked him very 
 much, but his demeanor made her think sharply of the 
 future, and she did not want him in her future. She was 
 sure of that now. A day or two ago she had not put 
 the question to herself, for she was hoping there was 
 no question. 
 
 Then he went over to Violet, who was always ready to 
 talk about Princess, and while he talked he wondered. 
 
 " Do you think Miss Beaumanoir cares very much for 
 Spencer Rheid ? " he asked. 
 
 " It depends upon the sense in which you use the 
 word. They are very friendly. Mrs. Rheid likes her 
 above all the girls. She would keep her singing forever. 
 And poor Spencer can't distinguish one tune from 
 another. C) yes, I think he does know the ' Star Span- 
 gled Banner ' when he can see the waving of the flags." 
 
 " It would be martyrdom to live with one who had no 
 soul for music."
 
 TOLD IN A GLANCE. 253 
 
 " No ear, simply in this case. He docs like the sound. 
 And he dances well. You never would connect ' treason, 
 stratagems nor spoils ' with him, he is so jolly and frank." 
 
 "Spoils, if he became a politician ; stratagems if he 
 were deeply in love. As for treason 
 
 " You shall not traduce him to me. I am fond of him 
 myself. ' ' 
 
 Then Princess passed to a handsome young midship- 
 man. They seemed to have something very amusing. 
 Would his turn never come around again ? 
 
 When it did come he was quite certain of his regard 
 for her, but the very consciousness made him reticent. 
 One could not lead up to love affairs in a ballroom. A 
 look or a clasp of the hand might tell the tale if both 
 understood or were mutally attracted. He could recall 
 times when he had been thrilled with unmistakable pref- 
 erence on her part. But now she seemed curiously on 
 guard. Or was it because he was watching for an op- 
 portunity ? 
 
 There was a dainty little supper, but Spencer Rheid 
 took her in when he found Pearl was engaged. He 
 would have enjoyed the prettiest girl in the room, but 
 when Pearl laughingly declined and Princess glanced up 
 with irresistibly shy persuasion, he was comforted. 
 
 The carriage came for them at one. Sevier saw her 
 descending the stairs in her white wrap with its scarlet 
 hood and ribbons. 
 
 " O, are you going so soon ? " disappointedly. 
 
 Some one had stopped the other girls on the landing. 
 They were quite alone. Before she could answer he ex- 
 claimed in a vehement tone : 
 
 "Are you staying at the Amorys? Can I see you — 
 to-morrow ? ' '
 
 254 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " Yes and no," returned Princess, steadying her voice 
 and dropping her eyes after one glance at his. " I go 
 there to-night. To-morrow is promised to my uncle. 
 On Saturday we return to Sherburne." 
 
 '•'But, Princess," under his breath. " If I dared call 
 you my Princess " 
 
 " O, your party are not going ! " cried some one who 
 had just espied her as the two girls came trooping down 
 the stairs. " Mrs. Rheid, come and stop this barbarous 
 proceeding." 
 
 "Remember Cinderella and have mercy upon us," 
 exclaimed Pearl, laughingly. " For we never could out- 
 live the mortification of going to rags before you all. 
 And we have not even a glass slipper to attract the 
 prince." 
 
 Princess took Violet's arm and said a general good- 
 night. 
 
 " I do wish at times that we didn't have to go home so 
 early," said Pearl, plaintively. "You just get into the 
 spirit of the thing. You can sometimes coax mamma a 
 little, and that is the reason I think she likes to send the 
 carriage, and settle the responsibility upon us. It is too 
 bad! " 
 
 Princess shrank into the corner, her cheeks burning, 
 her pulses throbbing, and an uncomfortable half con- 
 demnation in her heart. She should have begun her 
 care before. She must have known whither this devo- 
 tion was tending. She was sorry and ashamed of having 
 allowed him to come so near. Was it not coquetting ? 
 
 Why could she not care for him ? He certainly was 
 worthy of esteem. And she knew her father would in- 
 terpose no objection. She had enjoyed his society, and 
 he was intelligent ; one could always be proud of him.
 
 TOLD IN A GLANCE. 255 
 
 They had similar tastes, only — were his a little higher 
 and finer ? for he liked Browning, and she had only gone 
 as far as "Men and Women" in her understanding of 
 the poet. And he knew so much about art, he had taken 
 two vacations abroad. Even Uncle Amory approved of 
 him. 
 
 She fell asleep with the unanswerable " why " of youth 
 beating up and down her brain.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 POISONING TRUTH. 
 
 GERTRUDE MURRAY found a warm welcome 
 at Sherburne House. The children remembered 
 her. As for Uncle Con, the neighborhood turned out 
 with invitations, and there were so many dinners and 
 teas that the few days were lengthened into a full week. 
 
 He had insisted all along that Princess should go home 
 with them. 
 
 "There is all the house to be furnished," he said, 
 " and Gertrude must have some one to aid and abet her 
 in all sorts of extravagance. You are to have the first 
 choice of rooms, for we expect you to come early in Jan- 
 uary and remain until after the day before Christmas. 
 By that time we shall have spent all our money, and we 
 will close our house, Gertie and I retiring to the back 
 kitchen, so as to escape giving Christmas presents. No, 
 Miss Princess, we shall not take any denial. We would 
 not dare to go back without you. We should be 
 mobbed." 
 
 Violet wrote entreating letters as well. There were 
 invitations, if the season was almost over. 
 
 "Mr. Sevier is devoted to us," she announced. "I 
 shrewdly suspect it is because we are next to the rose. 
 Princess, you demure little midget, I am afraid you are 
 dangerous, after all." 
 
 Among her notes on Saturday morning was one from 
 the gentleman himself, begging permission to have the 
 pleasure of a brief visit at Sherburne. 
 
 256
 
 POISONING TRUTH. 257 
 
 She had felt somehow between two fires, but this blaze 
 came the nearest to scorching. She would go home 
 with Uncle Con. There were so many relatives, and 
 she had not seen them in months. 
 
 She wrote a formal little note in reply to Mr. Sevier. 
 It might have been taken out of an etiquette book. And 
 he wondered if she were really sorry. It would not shut 
 him entirely out of hope if she were. But at present 
 there was no further step to take. 
 
 Yes, one could not help liking Gertie Maurice in her 
 new character, only it did seem to Princess as if she 
 and Uncle Con were playing at being married, they said 
 such amusing things to each other, and were so unsenti- 
 mental. 
 
 Gertrude was quite resolved that Princess should 
 love her, and should miss nothing out of Uncle Con's 
 tenderness. He insisted she should go to the hotel with 
 them, but she felt Aunt Millicent had a claim on her. 
 And there was Auntie Dell and the boys. 
 
 The house seemed in the first stage of confusion. 
 Workmen had loitered. But Gertie and Princess picked 
 their way about it the next day, holding up their skirts, 
 and being piloted around by Uncle Con. This was to 
 be library, this smoking-room, and a den on the third 
 floor where he could indulge in unlimited tempers when 
 things went wrong. Now they could take their choice. 
 
 "Your room must adjoin mine," declared Gertrude. 
 " I may let the other girls in it when they deign to visit 
 me, but it is not to be a guest chamber. We shall chris- 
 ten it 'Princess' room.' And when I see anything that 
 especially suggests you, for there are some articles that 
 have a Princess-y air, I shall buy it at once." 
 
 " How good you are to me."
 
 258 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "I love you, Princess. All the happiness of my life 
 has come through you." 
 
 There was a general rejoicing at Doctor Carew's when 
 she walked in upon them. They were so joyous and 
 noisy, that Auntie Dell insisted it was equal to "a straw- 
 berry festival in an orphan asylum." Bertram considered 
 that he had the best claim to her, and though he had 
 written her voluminous letters, there still seemed a great 
 deal to say. Sherburne was rather lofty. His recent ex- 
 periences had added a great deal to his wisdom, he 
 thought, and it had taken on a severe and gloomy tinge, 
 while its main indulgence was biting little sentences, 
 some of them culled from extensive reading. The Carew 
 children were wildly enthusiastic about her, except Ran- 
 dolph who was so intent upon study that he had no eyes 
 nor ears for anybody. 
 
 Then there were a host of Murray cousins. 
 
 " I sometimes feel as if I was related to half the world," 
 Princess said mirthfully to Uncle Con. 
 
 True, Morna Murray was the presiding genius of a 
 Scottish castle, one son was out in China in the tea 
 trade, another on the western coast, but Con and James 
 and Densie were in the city, the two latter with homes 
 and flocks of their own. 
 
 Grandmamma Murray was smaller and lovelier than 
 ever, with snowy white hair, pink cheeks and infantile 
 complexion. For the last fifteen years she had bewailed 
 the fact of her son Con being such a roaming fellow, and 
 having no home or wife of his own. And now her last 
 wish had been gratified. 
 
 She took Gertrude to her heart with open arms. 
 
 "My dear," she said in her soft tone, every word of 
 which had a delicious lingering sound like music — Con,
 
 POISONING TRUTH. 259 
 
 senior, said she had never spoiled her voice by scolding, 
 which was true enough, — " My dear, all I'll ask of you 
 is to love him and make him happy. He's waited a 
 long while to settle, and that leaves fewer years for the 
 joy, so you must improve every day. There's no fear of 
 people having too much happiness, though they do say 
 sorrow and care are a kind of discipline, but to my think- 
 ing the good Lord doesn't send half that He is credited 
 with but we make it up ourselves by our own wrong and 
 careless doing." 
 
 Grandmamma Murray made a feast to welcome the 
 wife of her firstborn soni 
 
 "O, are you not going?" Princess asked of Sher- 
 burne,. He seemed so changed in these days that she 
 hardly knew him, so lofty and captious and so frigidly 
 polite at times. " Sherburne, what has happened ? " 
 
 Sherburne was pacing the floor in a slow, melancholy 
 fashion. He was rather hurt that Princess had not re- 
 marked before that something had gone wrong with him. 
 
 "The matter is that I can't endure to see you all go 
 down to — Gertie Maurice, as if there had never been 
 another woman in the world ! She is a selfish, heartless 
 flirt, and schemed to make a good marriage. I don't see 
 how she could take Uncle Con in after all his experience, 
 but she blinded even him." 
 
 The tone was one of sharp anger and the young fel- 
 low's face was scarlet. 
 
 Princess stood amazed. 
 
 «Why — I thought — " hesitatingly, "that you liked 
 her very much. Surely you did at Christmas." 
 
 " I was a fool then ! I may as well confess that she 
 used her bewildering arts on me. Pve haunted Mrs. 
 Townsend's for a chance to talk to her. And I thought
 
 260 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 she did prefer me to the men who hung about her and at 
 whom she laughed slily. Maybe if no one else had of- 
 fered she would have married me, at least, have been en- 
 gaged, but she threw me over fast enough when " 
 
 He paused with a pricking sensation in the inner 
 monitor called conscience. But he was too proud and 
 too angry to amend the statement. 
 
 Princess drew several long inspirations, her eyes grow- 
 ing larger and deeper with indignation and surprise. 
 
 " Did you really love her ? " The tone was tremulous 
 and not far from tears. 
 
 "Well — " he began to pace rapidly, and seemed to 
 consider. "I liked her very much that day at the 
 luncheon. She was so bright, and easy to talk to, and 
 full of amusing suggestions. She has a way of spurring 
 you up to your best. And I thought she was in earnest. 
 After all she is just a young girl, younger than I am. 
 Some people are engaged years," in an apologizing 
 tone. 
 
 "You didn't ask her to marry you?" Even inex- 
 perienced Princess saw the folly of that. 
 
 "Yes, I did. I am going to tell you all so you may 
 understand the case. I don't care for the others," dis- 
 dainfully. "And she admitted there was not any likeli- 
 hood of her being married for years, and — I supposed she 
 meant to wait. Girls say a good many queer inconse- 
 quent things and wait to be coaxed and all that. Then 
 I went to work in real earnest. I meant to study hard 
 and be something for her sake. It was a great aim, you 
 know, and roused all the courage within me." 
 
 Princess thought of mamma's love, and papa's pride 
 in him, and the little hurt at his preference for another 
 course they had both been ambitious and solicitous for
 
 POISONING TRUTH. 261 
 
 him to take. How papa would have been delighted to 
 keep him near and watch his daily improvement and the 
 growing into friendship as well as relationship. Couldn't 
 all that affection inspire one ? Must it take the favor of 
 some girl to rouse true ambition ? 
 
 "Then Uncle Con asked her and she jumped at the 
 chance. He's almost twice as old, but he can give her 
 most of the things women think so much about. And 
 position. There'll be lots of people to go down to Mrs. 
 Con Murray, and plenty of society men ready to flirt 
 with her. Admiration is the great thing with her. She 
 isn't really pretty, but she's stylish, and has a curious 
 kind of fascination, and she'll take wonderfully now. I 
 am sorry for Uncle Con — that's all. And I'll get over 
 it, only it seems as if the big aim of life was gone. O, 
 you needn't look so horrified ! I shall not take to drink- 
 ing. I've seen some fellows -silly drunk, and if I once 
 got there myself I never could hold up my head after- 
 ward. I'm not going to do anything desperate — no 
 selfish woman is worth a man's going to ruin for her." 
 
 Princess was really bewildered. Her sympathies were 
 with her brother ; she was indignant that any woman 
 should trifle with him, she was angry too that any one 
 should not love him when he was so handsome and 
 charming and knew so much, and could make a desir- 
 able position for himself. Yet she was glad with a girl's 
 contradictory soul that Gertrude had not consented to an 
 engagement. 
 
 Like a flash the delight of the last week went over her, 
 the amusing love-making that always brought rifts of 
 color to Gertie's face, and Uncle Con's enjoyment. O, 
 he was happy ! They were very much in love and had 
 been before Sherburne's return.
 
 262 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "O, Gertie does love him," she declared with a 
 sudden accession of loyalty and conviction. 
 
 "Just as she would love any man of position, and 
 means enough to afford her an elegant home," said Sher- 
 burne, with an air of superior wisdom and experience. 
 " She might have taken me if I had been the proud pos- 
 sessor of a fortune." 
 
 "But you seem so young! And — somehow, I can't 
 think it of Gertie." 
 
 "Princess, you are sweet and innocent and trustful. 
 And I can't bear to have Gertrude Murray wind you 
 round her finger as she will all the others. I suppose, 
 now, mamma went down to her charming manner ! " 
 
 There was a withering scorn in the young voice ca- 
 pable of sweeping one out of the universe if a voice could 
 do it. 
 
 " O Sherburne, I am so sorry for it all ! " Her arms 
 were around his neck and she was crying on his shoulder. 
 "I want them to be happy now that they are married, 
 and my heart aches for you, and I don't know what- to 
 think. I can't bear to believe ill of Gertie, but if she 
 trifled with you and is deceitful and selfish " 
 
 " Keep your eyes open and you will learn a good 
 many things. I don't expect you to change your mind 
 about Gertrude in a moment, minds that can whiffle 
 about like that, never have solid enduring opinions. 
 But I did want you to know why I shall not go to Grand- 
 mamma Murray's feast, nor Uncle James' reception, and 
 why I have no interest in the new house nor what Mrs. 
 Con Murray may choose to do. There dear, do not cry. 
 They are not worth tears." 
 
 It was very hard for Princess to meet the household with 
 equanimity, and she admitted that she had a headache.
 
 POISONING TRUTH. 263 
 
 " Now children," said Auntie Dell, "you are to give 
 Princess a vacation. You have almost worn her out. 
 She is to go to her room and not be disturbed for the 
 next two hours, longer still if she does not get rested." 
 
 Princess was glad to retire though there was a chorus 
 of regret in every key. She laid her throbbing head on 
 the pillow and cried again from sheer weariness. The 
 struggle had almost torn her in two. There were too 
 such distinct sides. It did seem as if Gertrude must 
 have encouraged Sherburne, and yet Uncle Con was so 
 confident that he had awakened her regard long before. 
 On the other hand she must have been coquetting for 
 the mere love of amusement, which was more detestable 
 than not really knowing one's mind. 
 
 There was another thorn pricking the tender heart of 
 Princess. Did Mr. Sevier, or would he think her ca- 
 pable of such duplicity ? Would he consider that she had 
 held out false lights ? She had been trying to like him 
 very much, but she knew now that no depth of sincere 
 liking could touch the true foundations of love. That 
 was something finer and more sacred. What if Gertrude 
 — but no, Gertrude was not trying to like Sherburne for 
 any more occult reason. 
 
 That Sherburne was altogether mistaken and had al- 
 lowed himself in his anger and mortification to swerve 
 from the truth did not then occur to her. There was 
 some dreadful misapprehension about it all. She did not 
 want Gertrude proved false and designing, and if she 
 were, she, Princess, would have been the means of bring- 
 ing a great sorrow upon them all. Did one's generous 
 plans sometimes get sadly travestied ? 
 
 Sherburne sent regets to Grandmamma Murray. But 
 the Carews and the Draytons and Nora and Mr. Mallory
 
 264 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 were out in force. The happiesl woman was Mrs. 
 Murray who firmly believed that she had no wish un- 
 gratified. And what a gay party it was ! They could 
 not help going over the old times, and Con insisted as he 
 often did, that Dell Sherburne had been his first love, 
 and old Doctor Carew his most powerful rival. 
 
 " For you see I might have managed the young 
 doctor," said Con, with a mirthful twinkle, "but at the 
 other end of the line adroit papa Carew was angling for 
 Dell and caught her. It was two against one." 
 
 "O Con, dear, how can you?" said his mother, in 
 her soft, deprecating tone, at which the company 
 laughed. 
 
 Princess' honesty gave her an aching heart this even- 
 ing. Gertrude was very bright and gay, with a ready 
 answer for every one, chaffing with Mr. Mallory, run- 
 ning tilts with Mr. Drayton, and making herself very at- 
 tractive. Perhaps not more so than when in Washing- 
 ton, but might not this very readiness lead one to attach 
 a deeper meaning to little things ? Gertie had this same 
 quality at Melchias, and she was the life of the yachting 
 party. 
 
 She had merely spoken to her at first, and they were 
 quite far apart at the table. They sat a long while over 
 the dessert and coffee, and drank toasts and gave good 
 wishes. Even after they rose it was easy to evade, but 
 just at the last, when they were in mamma Murray's best 
 room putting on their wraps, Gertrude came over to her. 
 
 " Princess, don't you want to go out 'ordering ' with 
 me to-morrow morning ? Con has hurried up the work- 
 men after the fashion of the old woman and her pig, and 
 everybody begins to do. So we are to order carpets, and 
 you must come and choose yours."
 
 POISONING TRUTH. 265 
 
 Princess raised two troubled eyes, and a flush went up 
 to her brow. "I — "she stammered, " I— " O what 
 could she say ? How could she go and choose anything 
 with this great weight of distrust on her soul. 
 
 "No, I think I cannot go to-morrow," she cried, hur- 
 riedly. 
 
 " O, why ! Uncle Con is so impatient. He wants 
 everything in readiness, so that he can give what he calls 
 an old-fashioned house-warming. Princess, our lives 
 will be like the end of a century with old outgrown things 
 and customs, and bits of new fashions tacked on to them 
 until we shall mystify our friends as to just where we be- 
 long. Do come. Where shall we meet ? ' ' 
 "No, I really cannot," the girl gasped. 
 " The next day, then ? " 
 
 "I will send you word." Then she turned away to 
 say good-night to a guest. 
 
 When they came to bid her good-night she was 
 sheltered under Aunt Lyndell's wing, and it was very 
 brief. 
 
 "Sherburne has taken umbrage at his uncle's mar- 
 riage," said Aunt Lyndell. " I begin to consider it a 
 very sensible choice. Mr. Murray is young for his years, 
 and his mind is always so fresh and alive with the inter- 
 ests of to-day. And Mrs. Murray fits into her place as 
 if she had been born in it." 
 
 " I like her," returned the doctor, " and we shall have 
 to admit that a man's choice of a girl a good deal 
 younger than himself is not often sensible. In this case 
 it is admirab'e. But I am perplexed about Sherburne. 
 I have made several attempts to explore his mind," and 
 the speaker laughed, "but without satisfactory results. 
 He seems to have lost interest in most things. He misses
 
 266 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 lectures, he is irritable, the boys say, and has discarded 
 his enthusiasms. To tell the truth, I do not think he 
 has struck the right thing, but he means to keep at it. 
 Persistency may be commendable in some cases, but 1 
 heartily wish he would give up this." 
 
 He was thinking of another boy that he had meant to 
 train, and about the bent of whose mind he was quite as 
 much puzzled. He recalled his own eager interest and 
 sighed that one could transfuse so small a degree of it. 
 
 Princess went to bed with a half frightened feeling. 
 Like her mother she was fond of having events move 
 smoothly. Violet Osborne had been quite amusing at 
 school with her tiffs and disagreements with other girls. 
 There had been times when Ray was trying, when she 
 kept a hurt sort of silence, but Ray had developed a 
 sweet cordiality that made her a charming friend. Prin- 
 cess could not remember any more serious disputes in 
 her life than childish squabbles like April showers, soon 
 over with. This was likely to be a much more lasting 
 matter. Even if she had the courage to accuse Gertrude 
 of double dealing, that would not mend the matter. She 
 had seen some of the intimacies that " didn't mean any- 
 thing, ' ' but were begun with a very deliberate intention 
 of extorting admiration. And there were other half 
 friendships people dropped into unwittingly, as she had. 
 What if Gertrude had done the same thing and never 
 supposed Sherburne would take it seriously ? If it had 
 been any one but Sherburne she could condone it more 
 easily, but she must side with her brother. And she 
 could recall the many nonsensical things Gertrude had 
 said about marriage ; amusing of course, but if true, 
 quite heartless. 
 
 She had made the merest little call upon Mrs. Kenneth
 
 POISONING TRUTH. 267 
 
 and promised to go to luncheon. She would take this 
 opportunity lest Gertrude might call for her. She would 
 not even risk Aunt Millicent's delightful informal morn- 
 ing reception that she had counted on, and where people 
 came to talk of the day's events. 
 
 Mrs. Kenneth was gratified with her coming. 
 
 " I began to think that we would all drop out of your 
 mind," she said, "there were so many new people and 
 events crowding in. What an entertaining winter you 
 have had ! Bertram read your letters to us and it was 
 almost like being in the midst of things one's self. And 
 brother enjoyed his little bit of you all with such fervor. 
 I'm beginning to believe largely in environment," and a 
 sweet smile illuminated the face. "I will own now that 
 I was a little disappointed in Eric when we first renewed 
 our relationship. As he had never been crossed in love 
 there was no need of making a middle-aged wisacre out 
 of himself. If some woman hadn't taken him in hand 
 he would have been forty by this time, and in another 
 ten years sixty. The last thing my sweet Margaret said 
 to me was, ' Dear mamma, don't grow only one year 
 older by the time I come back.' And with all of us, we 
 have turned Eric's dial back to the true figure. Still, if 
 he had not been with me I should have removed my 
 easy-chairs and traps to Washington and had a glimpse 
 of you all. Ruth would have enjoyed it." 
 
 Ruth had gone to Mrs. Drayton's. She liked the 
 talks and she had felt certain of seeing Princess. 
 
 " O, that would have been delightful. I had not 
 meant to stay when I went up. I made so many useful 
 resolves in the autumn after I gave up going to college," 
 and Princess flushed daintily. "I did offer to teach the 
 children, but mamma would not hear to that. Then I
 
 268 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 began to learn a little about housekeeping, and it ended 
 by all this gayety. I was going back home when Uncle 
 Con carried me off," and she gave a bright little laugh. 
 
 Then they discussed the marriage. 
 
 "I didn't suppose Mr. Murray would marry. He is 
 the sort of man who can make a splendid bachelor to the 
 end of his days. But when all you young people married 
 and had homes of your own, he would have found it 
 rather lonely. He has made an excellent choice. I like 
 Gertrude very much." 
 
 "O, I am glad you do!" exclaimed Princess, with 
 unaffected sweetness. 
 
 " One couldn't spend a year or two with Mrs. Town- 
 send without being well trained for such a position. Then 
 Gertrude has too much pungency to be weakly senti- 
 mental, and Mr. Murray would tease the life out of a 
 romantic girl. Not but what I do believe in romance 
 for some people. I don't want it to die out of the world." 
 
 Princess drew a sort of relieved breath. If she could 
 have faith in Gertrude once more ! Mrs. Kenneth had 
 opportunities of judging her quite correctly, she thought. 
 
 They talked of Margaret's home-coming in the autumn. 
 
 "She has made all her plans," said the satisfied 
 mother. " Of course she is all I have, and though I had 
 a little misgiving at first about saddling an invalid on her 
 when I had money enough for a separate home, she and 
 Mr. Phillips vetoed the plan at once. I did think I could 
 get along with Ruth, who is almost like a daughter and 
 needs some warm human interest. Her poor, old 
 grandmother will never be any pleasure or duty, even. 
 She wants "Ruth's salary to be added to the general fund 
 of savings, and this is the more peculiar when Ruth will 
 have it all in the end. But she doesn't seem to consider
 
 POISONING TRUTH. 269 
 
 the end may come to her. What a terrible thing a 
 miserly old age is ! " 
 
 Princess gave a little shiver. 
 
 " And the plan is a nice, roomy house. Mr. Drayton 
 is to find that for me in the course of the summer, and I 
 am to purchase it. We are to have three rooms of our 
 very own, and conveniences for meals if we choose to 
 take them alone, as we often shall. Margaret is to keep 
 the house, and be the mistress. I can never be sufficiently 
 thankful for Ruth, although there will come a time when 
 as an heiress she will have no need of me." 
 
 "That is a lovely plan," returned Princess. She won- 
 dered a little what the professor would do, and almost 
 resented his being counted out. 
 
 "Bertram has enjoyed being here so much," she con- 
 tinued, with a heightened color. 
 
 " Yes, Eric is very fond of him. He is such a splen- 
 did student and will capture a prize next year without 
 doubt." 
 
 " O how delighted papa will be," and her eyes light- 
 ened with joy. 
 
 " We do enjoy him as well. And Sherburne, though 
 he has quite deserted us of late, I was a little afraid he 
 was rather epris with Gertrude, and really relieved when 
 the marriage was announced. But young fellows are apt 
 to have two or three such turns before they settle upon a 
 steady fancy." 
 
 A vivid color flushed Princess' face. It was a consola- 
 tion to know that other people thought it unwise. 
 
 "Now you must tell me about the girls. Is Violet 
 really doing anything with her genius ? And I suppose 
 Pearl is as beautiful as ever? " 
 
 Princess related some of the most enjoyable events, and
 
 2 7 o THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 the fascinating glimpses of public life they had seen 
 through her father's influence. 
 
 ' ' Do you know that I think Sherburne should be in 
 that kind of life rather than studying medicine. Eric 
 really considers him intended for an orator. What do 
 you suppose gave him the fancy ? ' ' 
 
 "He became a good deal interested during the last 
 part of his German student life. And then he had always 
 been quite in love with Uncle Carew, and Uncle Under- 
 wood, who appears to think some one should be trained 
 to carry on his work. It seems to me we run to physi- 
 cians;" and Princess gave a soft little laugh. "You 
 can't think what a tremendous enthusiast Uncle Under- 
 wood is ! Papa declares he is quite enough to infect 
 anyone." 
 
 Ruth came in presently, her face in a glow. 
 
 " O Princess," she exclaimed, after the first greeting, 
 "you should have been at Mrs. Drayton's. There was 
 a musical morning with a lovely young Russian woman, 
 who sang exquisitely and made a little address. The 
 talks were so delightful, not over any one's head. And 
 just at the last, Mrs. Murray came in. I think she was 
 disappointed at not finding you there." 
 
 Princess' heart gave a sudden, violent beat. 
 
 Then they had a cozy luncheon and talked over the 
 plans again. 
 
 "You see we are leaving Eric quite out," said Mrs. 
 Kenneth. "I am sorry to do it, but he does want a 
 place to himself, and I can't saddle Margaret with every- 
 body. But he has grown much more socially inclined. 
 He and Bertram might set up bachelor lodgings." 
 
 "And you would have to come and keep house for 
 them, Princess," said Ruth, with curious inadvertence,
 
 POISONING TRUTH. 271 
 
 which she did not remark herself. " Your uncle has 
 found a housekeeper." 
 
 She was busy just then dishing some pudding and 
 frosting it over with whipped cream. Princess' face had 
 been drenched in scarlet, and Mrs. Kenneth pretended to 
 hunt for her handkerchief, to give her time to recover 
 herself. 
 
 "Yes, I have lost my position," Princess subjoined, 
 with all the merriment she could put into her voice, 
 though her hostess detected the tremble. " Mrs. Kenneth, 
 do you think I have grounds for a breach of promise ? I 
 can substantiate my claim in black and white." 
 
 "It depends upon whether you want to be held to 
 your bargain. If the damage involved was consider- 
 able, he might keep you to your part of the agreement." 
 
 " And I guess I don't quite want to be kept." 
 
 While Mrs. Kenneth took her rest afterward, Ruth 
 and Princess had a girl's talk. There were so many 
 subjects that had come up in letters. Ruth was very 
 happy about the new plans, and reaching out into the 
 future without any thought of what had troubled Prin- 
 cess. She referred to the professor quite often, too, re- 
 echoing Mrs. Kenneth's pride in him. It was just as 
 one might talk about a brother. 
 
 Princess was strangely confused, and some inexplicable 
 power seemed to keep her pulses athrob with the trouble- 
 some rush of color flying from cheek to brow since she 
 could not help seeing distinctly before her his look at 
 the night of the lecture. She could plead ignorance no 
 longer ; she was aware of its significance, and she was 
 frightened at standing on the threshold of a great mys- 
 tery. 
 
 They would fain have kept her to dinner, but she would
 
 272 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 not stay. Mrs. Kenneth's manner was so tenderly caress- 
 ing that even this gave her a vague, delicious uneasiness. 
 
 Mr. Murray had been out of the city on business most 
 of the day. He had taken Gertrude to his bachelor 
 rooms until the house could be made ready. He was 
 late, and dinner was announced at once as he declared 
 himself famished. Then he laid down some slips of 
 paper and took out a blue pencil, which indicated press- 
 ing business. 
 
 " Did you look at carpets to-day? " 
 
 " Yes," Gertrude replied, briefly. She knew the ques- 
 tion was asked more from politeness than interest, and 
 she had learned already not to feel jealous of paper and 
 pencil. 
 
 "Is the stained glass window in? " presently. 
 
 "Yes, and it is beautiful." 
 
 The papers were finished and sent away when the 
 dessert came in. Then they had a little talk. When he 
 went over to his easy-chair he lighted a cigar and stretched 
 himself out. He had hardly imagined a woman with 
 rights everywhere, could be so comfortable to get along 
 with in rather crowded bachelor-quarters. She was so 
 deft, too. He watched her as she put the cloth on the 
 table, stood the drop light in the centre, laid papers and 
 magazines to one's very hand. 
 
 " Shall I light it? " she asked. 
 
 "No — not yet. Come here and talk. Let us con- 
 sider household .ways and be wise — or extravagant as the 
 mood overtakes us. Did you have a good time with 
 Princess? What did she say? " 
 
 " I did not have Princess." 
 
 " Why, I thought " 
 
 " She was not quite sure, at least she did not promise."
 
 POISONING TRUTH. 273 
 
 " O, will you go to-morrow? Bring her in to dinner. 
 Or perhaps I can join you, and we will all air our opin- 
 ions. And if there is a nice play we can go in the 
 evening." 
 
 Gertrude Avas considering. She felt certain something 
 had happened to disturb Princess. 
 
 " Well, what conspiracy are you hatching? " 
 
 She had been leaning on the corner of the chair and 
 he moved so that he could see her face. She felt a rising 
 color and tried to laugh. 
 
 " Suppose I should not see Princess to-morrow ? There 
 are so many relatives with claims." 
 
 "I will tell you where you could have found her — at 
 Mrs. Drayton's. The talk and the music was very fine, 
 our reporter said, and the woman extremely handsome. 
 I wish you had dropped in there." 
 
 "I did," she returned, after a pause. 
 
 "Why — that is queer, too. I thought you were the best 
 of friends and all was serene. What has gone wrong ? " 
 
 "I am not quite sure anything has. But if I shouldn't 
 see her to-morrow I shall have a misgiving " 
 
 " O, you do not suppose that idiotic boy has confided 
 his grievance to her ? And now I come to think of it I 
 scarcely saw her last evening. I didn't suppose Sher- 
 burne would come, but if he is going to stir up a family 
 feud he will find he has me to settle with, and I shall 
 stand no nonsense." 
 
 " Con, dear," she leaned over and kissed him on the 
 forehead. How like his mother's voice that sounded, 
 his mother who had been gentle and a peacemaker all 
 her life — " Con, dear, do not be hasty about anything. 
 I should be sorry if my coming in the family led to any 
 trouble or disagreement."
 
 274 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " But it has not. I am sure the Amorys and all of 
 them were most cordial. The judge admired you, and 
 Tessy gave you a sister's welcome. Princess had gotten 
 over all that little feeling, in fact I think she would have 
 been very much affronted if you had not listened to my 
 suit. Indeed " — he leaned his head back and laughed 
 heartily — "I can just imagine the consternation if you 
 had been foolish enough to consent to that young man's 
 wishes." 
 
 She laughed too, but not very cordially. 
 
 "After all," reflectively, " it would have been a temp- 
 tation to some girls. He is a handsome and attractive 
 fellow. I will grant that even if his present prospects 
 are not brilliant. And you are young, you know." 
 
 "I wonder if you will ever come to think it was the 
 prospect that tempted me?" 
 
 " I wonder if you will ever come to be sorry that you 
 have married a man so much older ? There ought to be 
 something to equalize it." 
 
 " That isn't answering my question." 
 
 " I have the self-appreciation of my sex. I think you 
 fell in love with me. But there was no fascinating young 
 rival. And I should have insisted upon your marrying 
 me out of hand that night on the boat when Ave rather 
 stumbled over each other's preferences, if I had not pos- 
 sessed a little grain of conscience about the disparity. 
 If you had been a shrewd young woman of the world 
 you would have captured me then and there." 
 
 " Do you suppose I would have done such a thing?" 
 she exclaimed, spiritedly. 
 
 " You didn't, evidently. And if I had not known 
 about your future I should have followed with the vim 
 and perseverance of twenty."
 
 POISONING TRUTH. 275 
 
 "How thoughtful you were for me," she said, with 
 deep feeling. 
 
 < ' And Mrs. Townsend insisted that I should give you 
 still another chance. Yes, I think I was generous. But 
 if I had seen any real danger " 
 
 "It was hardly fair, after all," she said, with a glint 
 of mirth. " You never allowed me to quite know whether 
 you loved me or not, and you thought I ' ' 
 
 "You are not a shrewd hand at guessing." He 
 laughed softly as he kissed her. " Well, I have distanced 
 the young fellows, and that ought to satisfy me. And I 
 dare say I shall get all the love I deserve and more, too. 
 But I am not going to have Princess tolled away — that 
 southern word just expresses it — by any angry young man 
 appealing to her sympathy, even if he is her brother." 
 
 "Princess would have a right to be angry if she 
 thought I had lured him on. I never did, consciously." 
 She half buried her face against his. ' ' I never even dared 
 indulge in a good flirtation — you seemed so — watchful 
 isn't quite the word " 
 
 " I am glad you felt the mysterious power. The flirta- 
 tion would have been nipped in the bud." 
 
 "We will wait over to-morrow, at least," she said, 
 after a long, tender silence. " But it does hurt me to 
 have Princess distrust me." 
 
 " To-morrow will be about as far as my patience can 
 carry me. Then I shall step in and put an end to the 
 young man's folly." 
 
 " I hoped it would die naturally." 
 
 Sherburne took his sister out that evening to a high-class 
 concert, and, though he said little, he deepened the im- 
 pression that he had been very ill-used. And she, sweet 
 soul, was ready to take up arms against her friend. She
 
 276 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 seemed suddenly aware of the depth and heights possible 
 to love, and the pang of falsity, of deception, But after- 
 ward Gertrude's perfidy swept over her, and with a sigh 
 she wondered how they could ever be dear friends again. 
 
 But what made the atmosphere so radiant that, in 
 spite of her sorrow and regret at this, she was lifted 
 above it. A new vivifying light penetrated her brain 
 and filled it to overflowing with tenderness for all sorrow 
 and suffering and disappointment. There was a fresh, 
 exquisite meaning to all things, a new creation, as if the 
 old things that had lain cloudily about her were swept 
 away and she had just begun to live. 
 
 What mystery was it that so encompassed her ? There 
 was a curious sanctity to it before which she trembled 
 and drew long quivering breaths. She dared not enter 
 the holy of holies, but was quite content to sit outside 
 until one hand raised the veil and invited her within. 
 But she shut her eyes and would not even imagine whose 
 hand it might be, while she could see clearly whose hand 
 it was not. And she gave inward thanks that she had 
 not been betrayed by any wandering sympathy. 
 
 O, what would a woman do if, too late, a conscious- 
 ness of what love truly was, came to her and found her a 
 prisoner of honor.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE LIGHT THAT ILLUMINES. 
 
 PRINCESS said to herself that she could not see Ger- 
 trude at present, unless she came to call. She 
 would not even go to Aunt Millicent's. There was enough 
 to entertain her after the children went to school. Aunt 
 Neale, grandmamma, as the flock of Carews called her, 
 kept a good deal to her own room and that of her brother. 
 She was quite feeble now, and her complexion had a pe- 
 culiar transparency that matched the silvery whiteness of 
 her hair. 
 
 Aunt Lyndell was still full of philanthropical plans, 
 but now she never allowed them to interfere with true 
 family life. There were two hours of the morning de- 
 voted to letters, applications and callers. Doctor Carew 
 said she ran an employment bureau. But she had learned 
 the truest charity was fitting people for work and finding 
 places for them. 
 
 Princess wrote several letters for her, and she laugh- 
 ingly proposed the young girl should remain all the 
 spring as private secretary, "for," said she, "I have al- 
 most coveted Miss Maurice, and now I can condole with 
 Mrs. Townsend." 
 
 "Auntie Dell," the girl asked, hesitatingly, "do you 
 think they are — that Uncle Con is very happy? " 
 
 " If he is unhappy it will be because he has lost the art 
 of making himself happy. And — but you and Gertrude 
 have been such friends, and you saw a good deal of them 
 277
 
 278 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 in Washington. You ought to be able to answer your 
 own question." 
 
 " I think they are very happy, now," with a grave lit- 
 tle emphasis. 
 
 " And a good deal of the rest depends upon Gertrude's 
 wisdom and tenderness. Men are capable of absorbing 
 a great deal of real love, as well as a good deal of silli- 
 ness. I think we women are apt to forget that love is the 
 golden key, when we stand outside in some hurt mood 
 and nurse imaginary wrongs. It seems to me Gertrude 
 is of the franker sort. And Uncle Con is no longer an 
 enthusiastic young man. I was a little amazed at first, 
 for I had a feeling that he would not be likely to marry. 
 But the honeymoon is just the beginning, the marriage is 
 the true life and there has to be years of it before one can 
 pronounce it good or bad." 
 
 Then some girls came in, and Princess went to Aunt 
 Neale's room. She was very fond of reminiscences about 
 Sherburne House. 
 
 It was almost noon when the waitress came up with 
 a card for Miss Beaumanoir. A scarlet bloom went up 
 to her brow, but Aunt Neale was too intent on her own 
 thoughts to remark it. 
 
 She must go down alone. In her inmost heart she 
 knew she would rather meet him alone, trying as it would 
 be, though she was armed with a secret knowledge that 
 she would not allow to take shape even in her soul. There 
 was a faint thrill like terror as well. 
 
 She hesitated a moment beside the silken portiere that 
 swept the floor. Did the watchful ear of love detect the 
 slight footfall? Professor Kenneth came forward and 
 saw the downcast face struggling for courage that one 
 did not need for a mere acquaintance. Then he gathered
 
 THE LIGHT THAT ILLUMINES. 279 
 
 the slight figure in his arms, and the most serious, the 
 most exquisite question of life was asked and answered 
 without a word. Was it moments or half a lifetime before 
 either spoke ? 
 
 "Last summer, nearly a year ago, I confessed my re- 
 gard to your mother, and she interposed no real objec- 
 tion. But I had loved you before that, during that de- 
 lightful summer. How one chooses is always a mystery. 
 I said then if I were not so much older and graver I 
 would enter the lists. But it was hardly fair. I wanted 
 you to see more of the world, to know whether you 
 would be likely to choose me as I chose you." 
 
 " And mamma knew all this time " 
 
 He felt the added warmth of her cheek, but there was 
 only a softness of relief in her tone. If mamma knew 
 there could be no question. And now a hundred little 
 glimpses flashed over her that she never dreamed had 
 any real meaning. 
 
 "And at Christmas," he continued, "I almost con- 
 cluded that I should not be the fortunate one to awake 
 the regard you were capable of giving. Princess, did you 
 evade me, or was it my fancy? " 
 
 "I thought — I was afraid — " tremulously 
 
 ' ' You were right to consider. We do not look at the 
 sacred side of love enough, nor the significance of a sure 
 preference. And this was why I waited. You were so 
 young, you had a right to see something of the world, 
 and a man would have been selfish to the last degree to 
 have shut you out of this experience." 
 
 " It was not altogether that." She wanted to be quite 
 frank with him. " O, there was Ruth, and you could 
 not help seeing her sweetness, her readiness to give of 
 her best ' '
 
 280 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 " But I loved you," he said, simply. " I should have 
 loved you always, and waited, and if the chance never 
 came 1 would rather have had a sacred temple in my life 
 with a vision, than the real presence of any other 
 woman." 
 
 "Do you love me like that?" It seemed marvellous 
 to her, the choicest gift of a lifetime. 
 
 "I do not think I was formed for a general lover," 
 and she could feel the half smile in his voice. "My 
 inner life was extremely solitary until Margaret and her 
 mother came into it. I have no fashion of saying pretty 
 society things. You must train me." 
 
 "And Mrs. Kenneth knew ? " 
 
 " She divined. And she would not let me lose heart, 
 though, as I said, I should have gone on hoping until 
 your regard was placed elsewhere. And suddenly I came 
 to understand. Yet I wonder, dear, if it will not be a 
 grave life for you ? I shall try to put in it all the joy, all 
 the pleasure that youth can take." 
 
 " But I like the other things also. Life would grow 
 tiresome to me if I had to dance through it." 
 
 "Yet I like to look on at the dancing and the good 
 cheer of youth. It is only now and then that youth drops 
 out of life during the early period, as it did out of mine. 
 It would not have happened if I had been in a family. 
 Poky old scholar as I am, I have more of a longing for 
 family life than many who have only to reach out their 
 hand to have." 
 
 She would be satisfied. She knew now she should de- 
 sire to be in a wider life than her mother's. She wanted 
 to be in touch with some of the greater qualities and suc- 
 cesses, the more intellectual manifestations of science and 
 philosophy and advancement of the world. No one had
 
 THE LIGHT THAT ILLUMINES. 281 
 
 quite comprehended this side of her nature, and to be 
 understood thrilled her. 
 
 He was considering another point in a man's way. 
 
 "And you would have given me up to Ruth," he said, 
 in a reluctant, regretting tone. 
 
 " If you loved her " 
 
 A soft little smile made a sunrise in the eyes and 
 lingered about the lips. She knew now this could not 
 have been, and she would have proved more than human 
 if she had not experienced a leaping pulse of gladness. 
 
 Presently he said, "I was charged with a message. 
 Mrs. Kenneth desired me to ask you to dinner, insisted 
 that you must come. We will not even have Bertram. 
 And to-morrow I will explain to your father. I have 
 never thought much about money, indeed am afraid I 
 have been rather heedless with it, but I am glad to have 
 something to offer you beside my salary, not that one 
 would need to starve on that." 
 
 He hated to leave her, but he would not stop to 
 luncheon. He was a very earnest lover, after all. The 
 strange, sweet knowledge that he alone of all the world 
 had the power and privilege of making this girl happy, 
 gave him an exquisite sense of responsibility and de- 
 light. 
 
 As Princess was going through the hall, she espied the 
 pile of letters. Two for her — one from Ray, one from 
 papa. She broke the seal of that first and ran her eye 
 along the lines. There was some solicitude about Sher- 
 burne, and then a message for her very self and some 
 fatherly counsel. 
 
 Mr. Sevier had begged the privilege of addressing her 
 on the tender and grave subject of marriage. 
 
 " The young man is unexceptionable in every way and
 
 282 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 has none of the society vices of the present clay," her 
 father wrote. "Then I think he has it in him to come 
 up to some higher position and take a hand in public life. 
 If you care for him, Princess, or think you can in time to 
 come, you have my most cordial assent, and I know your 
 mother will agree in whatever is for your happiness." 
 
 Princess' pulses gave such a throb that her slight figure 
 shook tremulously. Would she have had the courage to 
 stand up boldly for love's sake, an unknown love, one 
 that might be forever in her soul and find no answering 
 sympathy ? 
 
 It was like a miracle, as love always is to youth. It 
 was as if she could see the finger of a diviner power. 
 This that had come to her was the best love of her soul, 
 and any other would have missed the perfect, mysterious 
 joy. 
 
 " But I should have been brave enough to say no un- 
 der any circumstances," she thought, "or I would not 
 be worthy of this perfect blessing." Yet she had liked 
 Mr. Sevier very much, and her father approved of him 
 in every way. He was more to a girl's fancy. But she 
 wanted something more purposeful, something with a 
 higher reach than mere material pleasure. There would 
 always be a depth in her soul that Mr. Sevier would not 
 care to fathom, since he would only go far enough to 
 content himself. 
 
 Of course papa would have a little twinge of disap- 
 pointment. He was desirous of the world's approval, he 
 had a good deal of ambition, and Sherburne was not in 
 a fair way to gratify it. She sighed a little. Was hap- 
 piness for one purchased with sorrow for another? 
 
 Aunt Lyndell was much occupied with some cases she 
 wished to lay before her husband. No one remarked
 
 THE LIGHT THAT ILLUMINES. 283 
 
 the exquisite joy in the young girl's face, the first glow 
 of the sweet consciousness that she holds the happiness 
 of another in her hands, and that her power can evoke 
 joy or tears. She wanted to tell Aunt Neale, but she 
 must write first of all to her mother. 
 
 How much she had to say ! Then she put on her 
 coat and hat — she must make one little call upon Aunt 
 Milly, who was wondering where she kept herself, since 
 she had seen so little of her. And Nora was complain- 
 ing. 
 
 "But there are so many," she said in her naive pretty 
 way. " Aunt Milly, I ought to be twins." 
 
 "And then we wouldn't be able to decide which one 
 we liked the best," returned Aunt Milly, smilingly. 
 
 She longed yet dreaded to see Mrs. Kenneth. And 
 she wished, somehow, that Ruth might not be in. 
 
 She had her wish. Mrs. Kenneth was alone. 
 
 " You dear little midget, where have you been loiter- 
 ing all the afternoon? Ruth went out an hour ago. 
 How delightful it is that everybody talks about every- 
 thing from a voyage to the North Pole to the interior of 
 Africa ! You do not have to race through volumes to 
 find a few facts. There they are, concise, labeled, ready 
 to stow away in your memory. Ruth is much interested 
 and when I said you were coming, wondered, dear soul, 
 if I could spare her for a while, and if you would not 
 feel hurt ! So I sent her off and have been counting the 
 moments. O, my dear, dear child ! " 
 
 Mrs. Kenneth held her to her heart in a long, tender 
 embrace. 
 
 " Princess, you are quite sure you have not made any 
 mistake?" she inquired, softly. 
 
 "I should feel that," was the half breathless answer.
 
 284 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 "It is a new world of joy to me, and I am glad, yes, 
 truly glad," with a delicious little laugh, " to be invited 
 in." 
 
 "There have been some misgivings on Eric's part. I 
 wish he was five and twenty, that would be quite old 
 enough for you, but he did not have as good a position 
 at that period ; and, really, I think he is younger in 
 heart now than he was then. Your mother knows, so I 
 do not feel worried. Erie came home from Washington 
 in such high feather, and yet he had not said a word to 
 you, except perhaps in love's mysterious language." 
 
 Princess blushed to her utmost capacity which was 
 great. 
 
 " It seems very odd, doesn't it to you ? What chances 
 there are in the world ! Just the way we all met on 
 the boat, and then that Eric should go off exploring that 
 little Maine island because some one had told him about 
 many curious specimens not to be had elsewhere. O my 
 child, I hope you may be very happy, and be spared to 
 each other many a year. ' ' 
 
 The earnest, tender voice touched the young girl. Yes 
 — years and years — oh, how could one endure to be sep- 
 arated ! 
 
 She took off her wrap and brought a low rocker close 
 up to the reclining chair. Of course they talked of 
 Eric, there was no subject so absorbing to either of them 
 just then. And before they had said half the delightful 
 things, and it is strange how many virtues love can find,, 
 the door of the private hall opened, and a girl's clear 
 voice with a soft, happy ring in it sounded. A graver, 
 deeper voice replied. 
 
 « ' Are you sitting here in the dark ? Has Princess 
 come ? "
 
 THE LIGHT THAT ILLUMINES. 285 
 
 Princess wanted to see Ruth Ensign's face. Ah, what 
 if the story should give her a pang ? 
 
 " Let me," said the professor, taking the lighted match 
 from her hand. The face was bright and eager and 
 Ruth turned to her friend and kissed her with joyousness. 
 
 "I met the professor and have been entertaining him 
 with the deep and mysterious aspects of our talk this 
 afternoon that goes far to invalidate the stone age and 
 the different ages, since nations are found in different 
 places in all these ages. One scientist comes to hand 
 and upsets another. I don't know whether the nail is 
 driven out, or only a little further in." 
 
 She laughed again merrily as she lighted the piano 
 lamp with its soft pink shade, looked if the heat was 
 right and then went out to the kitchen department to stir 
 up the handmaid. The table was already arranged ex- 
 cept the few touches the young mistress always gave. 
 And then she made the coffee — she had some especial 
 art, and Mrs. Kenneth came out on her brother's arm, 
 and they took their places. 
 
 Ruth wondered a little what kept the color coming and 
 going in Princess' face. And was there a rare, unusual 
 sound in her voice, a mysterious depth ? It made her 
 prettier than usual. But the professor seemed interested 
 in drawing the main fact of the "talk" out of Ruth, 
 since it had been given by one of the new scientific 
 women who was being discussed as the future president 
 of a college. 
 
 Afterward Princess played and sang and charmed 
 them all. Then Eric Kenneth put on her wraps rather 
 awkwardly, but with a curiously delicate touch and took 
 her back to Doctor Carew's. 
 
 Ruth went to look at the fire in the study, returned
 
 286 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 and put out the lamps, leaving the gas to shine through 
 the ground globe. All this time a curious thought was 
 floating about her mind. Was she glad ? Could she 
 wish it otherwise ? 
 
 "If it is so she will be very happy," Ruth said, under 
 her breath. 
 
 There was no envying or jealousy. If such a thing 
 had come to her she would be very happy. Perhaps no 
 girl ever looked on another's joy without the secret hope 
 that it might some day thrill her with rapture. But hers 
 would come from some one quite different. She had her 
 ideal and was in no hurry. Life was delightful to her at 
 present. 
 
 She sat down by Mrs. Kenneth and was very quiet. 
 
 "What are you thinking about?" Mrs. Kenneth 
 asked, presently. 
 
 " About them," she answered, with a slight inclina- 
 tion of the head. " Princess has always liked him so 
 much. And it came in my mind that he was almost or 
 quite in love with her." 
 
 " Quite; " with a gratified intonation. 
 
 " O, that is delightful ! Princess is such a darling. 
 And she will have to live in the city — afterward." 
 
 " Yes, the others' loss will be our gain." 
 
 " I was wondering how you could plan so calmly to 
 give him up when Mrs. Phillips came home." 
 
 "O, I thought I couldn't put any more burthens on 
 Margaret." 
 
 Then they lapsed into silence. 
 
 Princess said good-night to her lover and was flying 
 upstairs when Bertram caught her. 
 
 "Did you go out?" he asked. "I wanted to come 
 to dinner, but the professor said — well, I can't remember,
 
 THE LIGHT THAT ILLUMINES. 287 
 
 only he put me off, and he seldom does, you know. It's 
 like another home around there, and I am always wel- 
 come. Then I heard you had gone, and it seemed 
 queer." 
 
 "Bert, have you taken out a mortgage on the pro- 
 fessor?" she asked, laughingly, glad he could not see 
 her scarlet cheeks. 
 
 " Princess ! " called Aunt Lyndell. 
 
 Princess paused in the doorway of Auntie Dell's study 
 and library. The children often spent their evenings 
 here, but now she was alone. 
 
 " Princess dear — did you have a pleasant time? Un- 
 cle Con has been here. I think I ought to tell you — he 
 and Sherburne had a — quarrel — quite a desperate one I 
 fancy. Do you know anything they could quarrel 
 about?" 
 
 Princess turned pale, then red, and looked extremely 
 troubled, but was silent. 
 
 "Was it anything about Gertrude Maurice?" 
 
 "Yes," answered Princess, faintly. 
 
 "I've been putting several little things together and 
 the sum total seemed Mrs. Murray. Sherburne used to 
 be at Mrs. Townsend's a good deal, but I never thought 
 of such a thing. There were so many people, young 
 men and old men. And Miss Maurice, as she was then, 
 seemed a very sensible sort of girl who was not likely to 
 take to a young fellow ' with all the world before him 
 where to choose.' And Uncle Con was nearly always 
 there." 
 
 Princess was very much embarrassed. It did not seem 
 to her either of her two lovers had had very much en- 
 couragement, yet they had both resolved upon a proposal. 
 Was Gertrude altogether at fault ?
 
 288 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " Sherburne hasn't been going on at all well, latterly. 
 Uncle Carew is quite discouraged with him. And Ber- 
 tram is a splendid boy, and student. Uncle is puz- 
 zled to know what to do about it. Your father could 
 command Jiim to return, but that is such a peremp- 
 tory step. And uncle hates to find fault. But I 
 wish he had been at home to-night. Uncle Con 
 went away without seeing any one, but he left word that 
 you were to come around to-morrow morning and stay to 
 luncheon. Then Sherburne went out and has not come 
 in yet. He stays out too late." 
 
 Princess had been considering. " Yes, Auntie Dell, 
 there was some trouble. Sherburne thought himself ill- 
 used." 
 
 " Well — /think we would all have considered it a very 
 bad move on Gertrude's part to entertain a thought of 
 Sherburne as a candidate for her hand, or to consent to 
 a long and uncertain engagement. And it seems that it 
 was no sudden move on Uncle Con's side." 
 
 "No," answered Princess, in an assured tone. 
 
 " I dare say you were in his confidence." There was 
 a smiling brightness in Aunt Lyndell's eyes. "And 
 I think it an excellent match. Beside, Princess, Uncle 
 Con isn't the sort of man to stand any poaching on his 
 preserve, so unless Gertrude was very deceitful, I think 
 there couldn't have been much flirting between them. I 
 am sorry enough, but Sherburne ought to have more 
 sense, and when Gertrude married there was an end of 
 it. But I notice he has been gloomy and cynical and 
 cross. My dear child, I think you had better write to 
 your mother. She has such good sense and judgment 
 and patience. Or perhaps it would be best to wait and 
 hear Uncle Con's version. Dear, what a shame to bother
 
 THE LIGHT THAT ILLUMINES. 289 
 
 you, but I did not have uncle to confer with, and he will 
 come in dead tired from a medical meeting. You look 
 tired, too. Kiss me and run to bed." 
 
 Her secret was too sacred to be brought out after this. 
 The consciousness of some one caring for her who would 
 take up any burthen of hers quite as if it was his own, 
 comforted her greatly. She was beginning to understand 
 that the mysterious sympathy was deeper, or that it went 
 farther into one's life than that of parents even. O, was 
 that ungrateful ? 
 
 She could not be wholly unhappy. In a half dream 
 she floated out upon that rosy sea, where love held the 
 tiller and the current defying any analysis, drifted her 
 through narrows and out to sunny breadths, past 
 shaded nooks and islands fragrant with bloom, on and 
 on to the enchanted land where youth is glorified. 
 
 Sherburne was sullen and silent the next morning, and 
 hurried out before Princess could have a word with him. 
 She dreaded to meet Gertrude, but she knew it was best. 
 Aunt Millicent came in and asked her to drive and also 
 to look at a fine collection of paintings at the art gal- 
 leries. She was very glad to defer her evil hour as long 
 as possible, but it had to come at length. Aunt Milly 
 put her down at her uncle's. 
 
 " I am so glad you have come," Gertrude began, hold- 
 ing her hand, but not offering her the cordial kiss trem- 
 bling on her lips, for Princess looked so serious and dig- 
 nified. "And if I have done anything to trouble or 
 annoy you, Princess, I am truly sorry. I do regret last 
 evening. Con went around to see you and he stumbled 
 over Sherburne, whom he had not met since our mar- 
 riage. Sherburne said something that offended him, and 
 though he seems so easy and jolly, he has quite a hot
 
 2 9 o THE II KIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 temper on occasions," smiling a little. " And so they 
 had rather high words. Sherburne has told you the story 
 as he looks at it. I wish you would let me tell mine." 
 
 She had been removing Princess' wraps and now seated 
 her in an easy-chair. There was such a frank cordiality 
 in her manner, that the young girl's prejudices seemed 
 swept away in spite of the obstacles and protections she 
 summoned back hastily. For somehow Gertrude looked 
 charming this morning, softened, entreating, but Princess 
 remembered it was her brother and resolved not to yield 
 too easily, and to judge fairly. 
 
 "Yes," in a tone of gracious permission, rather than 
 cordial assent. 
 
 Gertrude's temper flared up a bit and flushed her 
 cheek. But she had resolved her patience should make 
 amends for Con's hastiness. 
 
 " I am going to begin way back in the first of all," she 
 said, with a little tremble in her voice, but smiling over it 
 and crowding it down. " Princess, if I had let myself I 
 should have fallen desperately in love with your uncle 
 that summer at Melchias. And I know now that he took 
 a warm interest in me. Young as I was it influenced me 
 in this way — I began to measure other men by him and 
 contrast them with what he said and did. And I 
 honestly believe if he had not asked me to marry him I 
 should have gone on with Mrs. Townsend for years. 
 When I did not see him I could put him out of my 
 mind, but when he came " 
 
 Gertrude smiled and flushed. Princess flushed a little 
 as well. She, too, had been trying to put some one out 
 of her mind, and there was a secret sympathy. 
 
 Then she began with the first day she had met Sher- 
 burne, and told the little story straightforwardly.
 
 THE LIGHT THAT ILLUMINES. 291 
 
 " You see it would have been folly to listen to such a 
 thing, and when I was really in love with some one else. 
 Of course if I had been ambitious on certain lines, or 
 susceptible to youth and a handsome face ! Young men do 
 take freaks of unreasonable adoration, and recover from it. 
 And it is foolish to go on caring when it is so utterly hope- 
 less. I wonder if that isn't obstinacy as well as prefer- 
 ence ? ' ' 
 
 Princess gave a long sigh. 
 
 " You see I had no idea of any special earnestness on 
 his part, except the indulgence of a youthful fancy. If I 
 could have listened and consented to an engagement, I 
 do honestly believe that Sherburne would have found it 
 irksome and been first to tire of it. And I know all 
 your family would have considered it extremely unwise." 
 
 Yes, Princess understood that. Sherburne had exag- 
 gerated some points, but when Gertrude became en- 
 gaged to Uncle Con he should have given her up in a 
 manly fashion and not accused her of mercenary mo- 
 tives, for Princess had become suddenly wise, and she 
 knew by the lights and depths and tenderness in her 
 friend's eyes at the mention of Uncle Con's name, where 
 her true interest had always lain. 
 
 " And we both supposed the marriage would end Sher- 
 burne's unfortunate fancy, but it seems not to. I do not 
 want it to go on and make trouble. And Sherburne has 
 no right to allow it to distract his attention from other 
 matters that are important to his coming life. When he 
 gets over it he will wonder at his foolishness." 
 
 Princess looked up with large, soft, wistful eyes. Was 
 there anything else to be said ? 
 
 Gertrude threw herself on a hassock and leaned against 
 the girl's knee, taking both small hands in hers.
 
 292 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "And, Princess, you may never know how rare ami 
 difficult it is to keep the golden mean of acquaintance- 
 ship when it is your business to be agreeable to every- 
 body, and when you have a secret longing to be liked, 
 perhaps a little more than liked. You have had so much 
 love in your life there have never been dry, hungry 
 places hard to get over as desert sands. I've always en- 
 vied you, and one thing made Con more precious to me 
 — the large circle of family relations, the intelligent and 
 charming people, whose esteem I hope to gain and keep. 
 And if in the beginning I did little gracious things that 
 look like flirtation, I am very sorry. But I told him 
 frankly, decisively, before your uncle spoke, that I could 
 not marry him, and since then I certainly have not been 
 to blame." 
 
 Gertrude's eyes were dewy almost to tears, and Prin- 
 cess' impulse of tenderness went out to her. For had 
 not she known something of this ? Had she not tried to 
 do more than like Mr. Sevier ? What if in the end he 
 should accuse her of flirting ? He could not in reason 
 accuse her of being mercenary. 
 
 "That is almost a smile, Princess. What does it 
 mean ? And this mysterious elusive sweetness " 
 
 Princess buried her face on Gertrude's shoulder. 
 
 "Perhaps I know more about love, and that difficult 
 golden mean than you think," she replied, with a whis- 
 pered tremulousness. "And you can understand " 
 
 She was glad she had written to her mother. Of 
 course some of the elders ought to have been told, and 
 Ruth was more her chosen friend than Gertrude, but this 
 inexplicable touch of the sweetest of all knowledge made 
 them friends as they had never been before, and for all 
 time.
 
 THE LIGHT THAT ILLUMINES. 293 
 
 "And it's queer," declared Gertrude, laughing through 
 her tears, "that you haven't given your heart to a gay 
 young fellow to go dancing down the next half dozen 
 years. But after all, youth is such a gay, glad time, and 
 there is but one youth. 
 
 "I thought it would be a case of propinquity," Ger- 
 trude continued, after a pause. " Do you know that 
 Ruth Ensign is a very charming home girl ? She can 
 always see the most delightful thing to be done, she loves 
 to minister to people ; she has so many sweet, dainty 
 ways. She makes goodness lovable, and a great many 
 people think it ought to stand on its own foundation 
 quite alone as mere goodness. But you had written your 
 name on his heart before that. Melchias has a great 
 deal to answer for. When we all get old we ought to go 
 up there and have an experience meeting." 
 
 Uncle Con was delighted when he came home and 
 found the two women the best of friends. He looked a 
 trifle grave over Princess' engagement — he had counted 
 on some years of girl life for her. As for himself, he ad- 
 mired the professor extremely, and he would certainly 
 attain eminence in his calling. 
 
 He had been really angry the evening before with 
 Sherburne's persistence and wrong way of looking at 
 matters. If in his secret heart he thought Gertrude had 
 sometimes been unduly attractive, he was also confident 
 the prospect had never for a moment tempted her with 
 its youth and glamour. 
 
 " There is nothing but to wait and let him come to 
 his senses," he said.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 FROM YOUTH TO MANHOOD. 
 
 T)RINCESS was curiously, unreasonably happy she said 
 * to herself. Sherburne angrily accused her of going 
 over to the enemy hand and foot, and in a tragic tone 
 declared she would some day realize the cheat and de- 
 ception, and the utter selfishness of the whole world. 
 
 But there were two very busy days when she and Ger- 
 trude went over the new house and discussed furniture 
 and haunted stores, while Uncle Con laughed at the un- 
 certainty of women's minds, and yet spent every spare mo- 
 ment that he could with them. The professor haunted them 
 also. He was a rather shy and delicate lover, but the 
 exquisite friendliness was more to Princess' liking until 
 the matter was really settled. 
 
 And then came mamma's letter. Of course she could 
 not plead surprise, and there was a tender sympathy in 
 every line. So long as Princess was quite sure — but it 
 would be well not to decide too hastily. Papa had nearly 
 set his heart upon Mr. Sevier. 
 
 There was a little halt in the letter, which was inter- 
 rupted by a call and luncheon, and the children going 
 out to a birthday feast. Papa had come home quite ill 
 and they had sent for Doctor Underwood. 
 
 A few lines were added in the morning. The case 
 was pneumonia and a serious one. Would she return 
 home at once ? The boys would be telegraphed to later 
 on. 
 
 294
 
 FROM YOUTH TO MANHOOD. 295 
 
 Doctor Carew was much moved, and was fain to send 
 Sherburne with her. 
 
 " You see they do not want either of us," he said, in 
 a coldly indifferent tone persuading himself that he felt 
 really hurt at the word. 
 
 But the next day not only were the boys summoned 
 but Doctor Carew entreated to accompany them. 
 
 "It must be critical," declared Lyndell. "But Doc- 
 tor Underwood is so full of resources and keeps up to 
 the high mark in his profession. Still, Tessy will feel 
 better satisfied if you are there." 
 
 He knew how critical the case was from another mes- 
 sage that he had not mentioned. And all these hours 
 must elapse before he could be of any assistance, if indeed 
 assistance were needed then. 
 
 Bertram was shocked at first and could not keep the 
 tears from his eyes. He glanced over the paper but 
 everything blurred, he looked out on the dreary March 
 landscape as it whirled by and it seemed to express deso- 
 lation rather than the coming of spring. After awhile 
 he turned to his books, he had counted on passing away 
 the tedium with study, but he could only think of Sher- 
 burne House and the anxious, sorrowing household, his 
 dear mother ! Of course, papa could not die. He had 
 never known him in any state but robust health. Yet 
 there would be days when no one would know except 
 each in his secret heart. 
 
 Doctor Carew found a friend on the train and they fell 
 into a discussion. Sherburne sat gloomily, his thoughts 
 a curious chaos. Not any more than Bertram would he 
 believe death possible, but an awful fear tugged at his 
 heart. He went out to the smoking car, but the cigar 
 had no flavor, and the men were laughing at some rough
 
 296 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 stories. The air was stifling. So he returned and picked 
 up the paper. If one could only get along without 
 thinking ! But it was better even to see the stricken 
 household with that far sight, than it was to live over the 
 last two months and his woes. 
 
 The journey seemed endless, but few things really are 
 in this world. Doctor Carew had tried to lighten the 
 burthen for both boys, but only Bertram had responded. 
 More than once he had stolen a glance at Sherburne's 
 handsome, gloomy face, and thought of his own disap- 
 pointment in the lad. Could he have made the path 
 more attractive for youthful feet ? He had a feeling that 
 he had not done his cordial best, because he had not 
 quite approved. 
 
 Yet he did feel thankful Sherburne had not plunged 
 into dissipation. He would be saved the mortifying con- 
 sciousness of not having been able to cope with that 
 viciousness. And perhaps a shock like this would rouse 
 the latent manhood in him. 
 
 They reached Sherburne House just at the edge of the 
 evening. Tessy came to meet them in the spacious hall. 
 She put out her hand to Doctor Carew, then went to the 
 strong arms of her firstborn son, and in an instant seemed 
 to live over the first absorbing year of her happy married 
 life, crowned indeed by his coming. 
 
 How small and sweet, and exhausted she was ! What 
 if all the rest of her life he was to be her protector and 
 try to fill a vacant place that after all never could be 
 filled. A solemn impression of responsibility seemed to 
 overwhelm him. No one had spoken. Doctor Carew, 
 so used to the house, had hurried up to the sick chamber. 
 What if 
 
 "O mamma, mamma!" cried Bertram, crowding in
 
 FROM YOUTH TO MANHOOD. 297 
 
 and kissing the wet face in a passion of sorrow, " God 
 will be good to us ! It has been in my heart every 
 moment of the journey from Washington, and isn't 
 that strong desire prayer? I know he will hear and 
 answer." 
 
 "How is he?" asked Sherburne, huskily. 
 "He has been unconscious since noon." 
 To Tessy Beaumanoir the bitterness of death had al- 
 ready passed. When she had looked upon the white, 
 still face, the half-closed eyes, and kissed down on the 
 damp cool brow she felt it was the last farewell. She 
 had not dared to plead for a word. Doctor Underwood 
 
 had said 
 
 " You may come in a moment if you will not speak or 
 utter the slightest sound." 
 
 Then she had gone out again and tried to comfort the 
 household. 
 
 "You have had no supper." Then she put an arm 
 about each of her boys, both so much taller than she, 
 and they walked through to the dining-room. But no one 
 could eat. Sherburne drank a cup of tea. Princess 
 came in and afterward they adjourned to the sitting- 
 room, where the other children were huddled together, 
 waiting in breathless awe. 
 
 Tessy Beaumanoir knew she has been blessed among 
 women. All these years no evil had come nigh her. 
 There had been few illnesses, not at all alarming, there 
 had been prosperity, satisfaction, happiness and worldly 
 advancement. Yesterday she had wept and prayed, and 
 said she could not yield up this best love of her life upon 
 God's altar. But to-day she knew it all belonged to God, 
 husband, children, prosperity, happiness. Whatever He 
 sent she must accept. She would suffer in the sorrow,
 
 298 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 had not even He wept over his friend's grave, but it 
 would not be as those without hope. 
 
 They did not try to talk after the first few questions 
 Princess asked. Doctor Carew came down for some sup- 
 per and took their mother out with him. Years ago, he 
 remembered he had fought for the young life, and rea- 
 son with it as well. 
 
 Tessy looked her wordless question. 
 
 " No one can tell," he answered. " There is nothing 
 I can do or suggest, yet I am glad you sent for me. 
 Dr. Underwood has been splendid." 
 
 "They were not so alarmed at first. I think if he 
 had come home at once — but we cannot distrust God's 
 wisdom. And when they thought there would be a turn 
 for the better, it was worse instead. Everybody has 
 been full of kindness and solicitude. ' ' 
 
 "Now there is only waiting. There comes a time 
 when the issues of life and death rest alone with God. 
 My great hope is in Leonard's splendid constitution. 
 If he should go through the night, the test of that will 
 come afterward." 
 
 Then he returned to the patient. There was no 
 change. 
 
 "You will remain?" he inquired of Doctor Under- 
 wood. 
 
 " O yes. I have had some one with me the last two 
 nights. Somehow I can't give him up." 
 
 After awhile the children kissed their mother good- 
 night and went to bed. Bertram was both tired and 
 sleepy. 
 
 " Will you not go as well ? " she asked of Sherburne. 
 
 " No. I couldn't sleep. Let me stay with you," and 
 the voice was beseeching.
 
 FROM YOUTH TO MANHOOD. 299 
 
 "Then we will go upstairs." 
 
 Sherburne followed his mother to the room adjoining 
 that in which his father lay. The door was closed. 
 There was a cheerful fire upon the wide hearth and a 
 lounge with a slumber robe thrown carelessly over it. 
 
 "You had better lie down," he said, softly. "You 
 look exhausted." 
 
 She suffered herself to be placed comfortably and cov- 
 ered. Then he drew his chair up beside her. 
 
 "Thank you," she said, softly. "We cannot talk 
 lest we disturb them. But there will be time enough for 
 that." 
 
 She was so white and wan that his heart was moved 
 immeasurably. 
 
 In his father's young life there had been two years of 
 invalidism from an accident, and everybody had joined 
 in attention and caresses until he had felt as if the world 
 was really made for his enjoyment. And though this 
 luxury of indulgence had not been Sherburne's, nothing 
 had been demanded from him. His two years abroad 
 had been quite self-indulgent, and he had enjoyed no 
 little admiration. To consider another's comfort would 
 be an acquired rather than inherited virtue. Not that he 
 was more selfish than hundreds of young people to whom 
 fate has been kindly. 
 
 But as he sat here now his heart warmed strangely to 
 his mother. If any one had suggested that he did not 
 truly love her, he would have been angry enough to 
 knock him down. And yet — what was love but readiness 
 to do another's pleasure, not simply the pleasure of one 
 bright attractive woman with whom one might come to 
 read a page of romance, but a finer, deeper devotion to 
 all the claims of life. And if sorrow should constitute
 
 3 oo THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 him the head of the house — which, God forbid, duty 
 alone would not suffice. He knew then it would take a 
 great deal of love and self-denial to comfort the sorrow- 
 ing ones. They had a right to demand it of him. 
 
 He was amazed at himself. His nature seemed an 
 unknown territory, and he hardly knew what was planted 
 there, even if he had done it largely himself. For the 
 first time he did not feel elated, rather humiliated, in- 
 stead. 
 
 Now and then a step of the servants went up and 
 down. Once something was needed in the other cham- 
 ber, then that awesome silence again, the dreary mid- 
 night silence. 
 
 Bertram Carew entered and went over to Tessy who 
 half rose, and turned entreating eyes to him. 
 
 "He holds his own," he said, softly, but it seemed as 
 if there was hope in his voice. 
 
 " But he has not " 
 
 " I doubt if there will be a return to consciousness un- 
 til all is decided. Are you comfortable? Sherburne, 
 you look weary." 
 
 " O, you ought to go to bed," said his mother. 
 " I want to stay here." 
 
 The tone was low, but decisive. And Doctor Carew 
 was glad of the decision. 
 
 Tessy did doze now and then a brief moment. Sher- 
 burne fixed the fire and gazed dreamily at the thin blue 
 flames turning to red and glaring gold. 
 
 Twice more before dawn the same not uncheering 
 news came in. Sherburne rose stiff and numb and 
 walked to the window. The sky was overcast, the east 
 thick with clouds and the wind moaned through the 
 great trees. He felt strangely depressed.
 
 FROM YOUTH TO MANHOOD. 301 
 
 It grew lighter, and the servants began to stir about. 
 One of the young lads brought up a great basketful of wood. 
 "Softly," Sherburne said, with a warning finger. 
 Tessy rose and came to embrace her son, who kissed 
 her with a new tenderness. 
 
 "There must be hope," he began in his young exult- 
 ant voice that cheered her inexpressibly. 
 
 Doctor Underwood entered then. "lam going home 
 for a few hours," he began, " I hardly dare breathe hope, 
 but his sleep seems tranquil, though his pulse is very 
 low. If nothing worse should occur between this and 
 
 noon " 
 
 " O heaven bless you ! " She was crying on her son's 
 breast, but she put out her hand. 
 
 " No, don't begin to hope just yet," he entreated. 
 "Sherburne," his mother entreated, "you must go 
 and get some rest. It was very good of you to watch 
 here all night with me." 
 
 "And a bath. I am old and stiff." He tried to 
 smile, but there was a mistiness in his eyes. 
 
 The duties of the day began. There was breakfast 
 and the children gathered about in a sort of solemn 
 eagerness to hear the news of papa. Sherburne had 
 gone to bed, he was quite worn out. 
 
 Afterward Tessy was admitted to her husband's bed- 
 side. The illness had begun to tell on his stalwart 
 frame. His eyes were sunken, his mouth drawn, and 
 the stray white hairs at his temples had increased notice- 
 ably. The stillness was wonderfully like death. 
 
 " His breathing is better. But we thought several 
 times through the night that he was surely gone. It is 
 curious, Tessy, but there was another time when I 
 watched with him and thanked God as I do now."
 
 302 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 Then he had a hope. She raised her eyes in wordless 
 gratitude. 
 
 By noon it was a hope sure and steadfast. God had 
 given him back from the confines of the grave. 
 
 " But it is still very critical," confessed Doctor Carew. 
 "For the next three or four days he will be in great 
 danger of a relapse which probably would prove fatal. 
 So the utmost watchfulness will be required." 
 
 " Yes," she responded, her heart full of thanksgiving. 
 
 There was a little snow presently. Grandpapa Beau- 
 manoir came over in spite of the cold and storm, and was 
 much moved at the good news, as well as delighted to 
 see Doctor Carew. 
 
 " You are our strong tower in time of trouble," he de- 
 clared. " And how is my dear girl and the children ? " 
 
 That meant Lyndell, he knew. No father's love 
 could be more solicitous. 
 
 Bertram came for a greeting. Now that the great 
 strain was removed, for in youth it is only a step from 
 despair to hope, Bertram was full of enthusiasm over 
 his progress at college, and bright with eager plans. 
 
 " You won't mind if I take him home for an hour or 
 two," said the old gentleman. " Grandmother will be 
 delighted to see him. And Sherburne? " 
 
 "Sherburne sat up all night with me, and has been 
 sent to bed." The little mother's face glowed as she said 
 this. 
 
 Bertram was not very ready to go, but he hated to re- 
 fuse grandpapa. 
 
 When Doctor Underwood returned he could see an 
 improvement. The pulse had gained strength. 
 
 Judge Beaumanoir opened his eyes presently and gazed 
 languidly around.
 
 FROM YOUTH TO MANHOOD. 303 
 
 "O Bert," he exclaimed, feebly. "It is good to see 
 you. I've been rather shaky and don't feel very solid 
 yet." 
 
 They gave him some nourishment and he dropped off 
 to sleep again. 
 
 "I do not feel very secure," confessed Doctor Under- 
 wood, " but there is a reasonable hope." 
 
 "Nothing must excite him to waste his strength." 
 
 When Sherburne came down at mid-afternoon, he 
 looked refreshed and brilliant, yet a little alarmed as 
 well. 
 
 " O, how could I sleep so ! And papa? " 
 
 "There has been some improvement. He knew Un- 
 cle Carew. But we are all barred out ' ' 
 
 There was a sweet consenting quiver in the voice that 
 could not quite steady itself. Sherburne kissed his 
 mother with fervent tenderness. 
 
 The children wanted a turn at their big brother. They 
 went off to the schoolroom so that they should not dis- 
 turb any one. 
 
 Matters were so much better the ensuing morning, that 
 Doctor Carew thought it safe to return to his duties. 
 There was a trusty nurse, and a young doctor employed 
 at the hospital to ease up Doctor Underwood who had 
 been most devoted. 
 
 " Of course I shall not go back with you," said Sher- 
 burne. "But Bertram had better return to his studies." 
 
 "Yes," replied Doctor Carew. "I shall feel more at 
 ease to have you here, and for the next two or three days 
 report morning and night." 
 
 Sherburne bowed acquiescently. 
 
 Bertram was quite divided in his duty, but his mother 
 overruled. He really did hate to lose the time.
 
 304 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 " You may just go in and kiss papa, but do not say a 
 word," exclaimed his mother. 
 
 Papa was asleep. He tired very easily and dozed 
 off. 
 
 They came back to ordinary life after the strain. 
 Princess was sweet and solicitous and there were bits of 
 confidence between her and her mother, and letters that 
 brought a dainty flush to her cheek, love-letters that she 
 hardly supposed the professor could write. The children 
 were so glad to get her home again, and she had to spend 
 the evenings with them, telling about "everybody," and 
 all she had seen. 
 
 Sherburne was rather grave and quite devoted to his 
 mother, taking charge of little business details, and after 
 a few days relieving the nurses somewhat, and Doctor 
 Underwood, who had been most solicitous. Fanny was 
 very proud of her husband's skill and claimed all 'the 
 credit, " for Doctor Carew did not really do anything," 
 she declared, rather resentfully. 
 
 " I wanted him in case — he was a great comfort to 
 Tessy. I gave up hope twice that night, but Carew 
 wouldn't. He inspires one," said her husband. 
 
 " You were desperately tired out. You did all the 
 real work." 
 
 "And I shall take all the credit, never fear, and de- 
 mand all the bill," laughingly. 
 
 " Do you think Sherburne will make a good doctor ? " 
 
 " That is too big a question to answer at present. He 
 seems rather more serious than usual." 
 
 The young man was doing a good deal of thinking in 
 these days. He had been very gentle to Princess, but 
 the subject of their quarrel had not been touched upon. 
 She felt that he must see presently how really ungenerous
 
 FROM YOUTH TO MANHOOD. 305 
 
 he had been, and make amends to Uncle Con and Ger- 
 trude. 
 
 He spent many hours in his father's room. One of 
 the nurses was no longer needed since Sherburne insisted 
 upon supplying his place. He read a little, but he was 
 ready at a look or sound. More than once he thought 
 of the great change his father's death would have made. 
 And it had come so near ! 
 
 It was pitiful to see such weakness. He had never 
 known his father to be really ill, and to have him lie an 
 hour at a time pallid and not even moving his hand, to 
 hear him speak a few words feebly, or leave off in the 
 midst of a sentence as if he had no strength for the next 
 word, made the case seem absolutely hopeless yet to him. 
 And when the nurse fed him and he resigned himself to 
 the ministrations without even a sigh, Sherburne was 
 inexpressibly shocked. He had seen some cases of utter 
 helplessness in the hospitals that were considered incur- 
 able ; what if this should be paralysis in some insidious 
 form ? 
 
 "Do you truly think he will recover?" he asked, 
 earnestly, of Doctor Underwood one morning. " He 
 doesn't seem to make any improvement." 
 
 "Yes, he has made a great deal," with a kindly, en- 
 couraging smile. " You are hardly old enough in the 
 business to have medical eyes that can detect the slight 
 alterations. He was very ill, and he no longer has youth 
 on his side, though he has a fine constitution. Look at 
 Mr. and Mrs. Beaumanoir at their time of life ! We are 
 proud enough of them. But your father has developed 
 a good deal of heart weakness and no one can hurry 
 that. Are you anxious to get back to your studies? 
 Are you deeply interested, Sherburne? "
 
 306 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 " I like some aspects of medicine. No, I can't say 
 that I am deeply interested." 
 
 " A man's whole soul ought to be in his profession. I 
 felt sorry you could not consider it the right thing to fol- 
 low your father's wishes. And now he will need a son 
 more than ever whose interests would lie in the same di- 
 rection. Thank heaven I shall have a boy who will fol- 
 low in my footsteps. I can see the bent of his mind al- 
 ready. Don't be discouraged. Your father will come 
 out all right. Indeed it is a great advantage to both of 
 us that he should not worry about anything." 
 
 Sherburne, left quite alone, glanced out of the win- 
 dow. It was a glorious April morning. In less than a 
 week spring had burst into wonderful growth and loveli- 
 ness. All the air was sweet, and one could have the 
 windows open. New life was rejoicing everywhere, in 
 the fragrant breeze, in the song of birds, in the new 
 leaves, the woodland bloom. 
 
 "A son whose interests would lie in the same direc- 
 tion." His uncle's words seemed to linger in the very 
 air, and to smite him with a feeling he could not analyze 
 on the instant. Then he glanced at the pale, still face, 
 fine, handsome and noble, in spite of the lines of ill- 
 ness. 
 
 What a long holiday his twenty years had been ! 
 There was great rejoicing over his birth, and he had been 
 named for his great uncle who had died in youth away from 
 home. This splendid old Sherburne House was to be his 
 some day, it had been a grand gift of Aunt Lyndell. 
 His boyhood had been full of love and pleasure, his 
 school-days bright with study, games, fun and a long de- 
 lightsome vacation every summer with the most gladsome 
 of home joys and love and indulgence on every side.
 
 FROM YOUTH TO MANHOOD. 307 
 
 He had taken his own way in entering a German univer- 
 sity, and then he had changed his mind, why he hardly 
 knew, except that he had an overwhelming fancy to re- 
 main in New York. 
 
 And he had really wasted his winter. He saw that 
 now. He had the gift of acquiring easily, and he 
 was interested in study. He had been ambitious, too. 
 Heretofore he had taken a pride in distinguishing him- 
 self. 
 
 He wondered now what he had given back for all this 
 love and care ! He had dipped into a few boyish follies, 
 but in the main he had been clean and wholesome and 
 upright. That was largely his mother's wise, gentle in- 
 fluence. And now — how delightful he could make all his 
 father's coming years ! 
 
 The judge woke and stirred. Sherburne was beside 
 him with an entreating, questioning glance. 
 
 "I should like a drink. And Sherburne, smooth 
 this pillow. Push it up a little. That is right. O my 
 son, how good it is to have you here." 
 
 The dark eyes immeasurably softened, smiled down 
 into his, and affection awoke in every line of the boyish 
 face. He bent over and kissed his father with a new and 
 reverent tenderness. 
 
 After the first week there was a decided change. 
 What an atmosphere of joy it diffused through the house ! 
 The children were allowed in singly. Princess brought 
 her sewing and sat by the window ; she had inherited her 
 mother's grace of being busy without any flutter or the 
 confusion so annoying to illness. And the devoted wife 
 looked after bodily comforts. 
 
 "Sherburne," his father said one morning, as he was 
 bolstered up in the bed, " I wish you would get the let-
 
 308 THE HEIR OF SHERliURNE. 
 
 ters and read them over to me. You will have to be my 
 private secretary for awhile." 
 
 "Gladly," was the reply. 
 
 So the letters were read and commented upon. It did 
 seem as if the head of the legal firm had been greatly 
 missed, and already some matters had gone awry. Me 
 sighed a little. 
 
 " I wonder if you would mind going up to Washing- 
 ton ? " he asked, rather feebly. 
 
 "O no," with cheerful readiness. "Anything that I 
 can do for you." 
 
 " Then if you will help me straighten out these matters 
 a bit and do a little writing. There is an important case 
 coming on, too. I did mean to argue it, but I shall not 
 be able. I should like to know what points Bristow is 
 making." 
 
 Sherburne rolled out the table and began to arrange 
 for business, answering letters, jotting down various 
 points, and his well-trained mind was of great assistance 
 to the judge's rather lethargic intellection. There was a 
 silence of some moments and the broad brow gathered 
 into a perceptible frown. 
 
 " O dear, illness does play havoc with a man's perspi- 
 cacity," he said, in a discouraged tone. " I'm tired and 
 my wits have gone wool-gathering. See what you can do 
 by yourself, Sherburne." 
 
 The judge nestled down among the pillows and in a 
 few moments was breathing regularly in a pleasant slum- 
 ber, unmindful of aught else. 
 
 Tessy had felt a little troubled about this. The judge 
 had trained himself to be especially alert. 
 
 "It is the very best thing that could happen to 
 him," said Doctor Underwood, " though it shows that he
 
 FROM YOUTH TO MANHOOD. 309 
 
 has come very close to physical exhaustion. If he was 
 nervous and wakeful it would prolong the strain. Let 
 him sleep all he can." 
 
 Sherburne read letters and made drafts of answers. 
 Then there were opinions. He did not want to go 
 rummaging through the library and used his own judg- 
 ment and the knowledge he had gleaned promiscuously. 
 When his father woke and had a glass of milk they went 
 on again, he annotating the letters. 
 
 " Send these off at once," he requested. " Then this 
 afternoon we will take up the rest. You may read to me 
 if it isn't too wearisome to go over old news. I want to 
 know what the world has been doing since I have lain 
 here." 
 
 "Nothing would be wearisome that affords you pleas- 
 ure," the son answered, quietly. 
 
 Sherburne was a very fine reader. He had the rare 
 gift of intonation that could put the meaning of a sen- 
 tence just where it belonged, and make any description 
 vivid. His voice was melodious and strong as well. 
 What a fine speaker he would make, his father thought, 
 and what an advocate ! 
 
 He went up to his father's office the next morning. Mr. 
 Brislow was delighted to hear so good a report. 
 
 "But we've missed your father desperately ! " he de- 
 clared, with emphasis. " Zounds ! what a brain the man 
 has ! You ought to be proud enough of being such a 
 man's son. Some day I hope he will be sent abroad to 
 represent the country for its own honor, though it needs 
 such men at home as well. And now let us see." 
 
 He opened the packet of papers and ran them over 
 with numerous comments. 
 
 "O, this sounds just like the judge. Walford, listen
 
 310 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 to this. He hasn't let his mind Lie fallow evidently. 
 Sometimes a fever urges the brain into brilliancy at the 
 expense of common sense, but it has not done so here. 
 O, this is the judge all over ! Young fellow, you tell 
 your father we can almost forgive him for falling ill at 
 this crisis. And here is a point — I've lain awake nights 
 trying to put a new and stronger aspect on this 
 threadbare reasoning. Here it is, brilliant as gold. 
 Zounds ! Walford, I haven't any doubt but we will win 
 the case, only the judge's personal magnetism is a great 
 card. Put in this point ! " 
 
 Sherburne felt the warm color going up to the roots of 
 his hair. The "idea had been his and his father had 
 seized upon it eagerly. Then he had been of some as- 
 sistance.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE LAMP OF REASON. 
 
 T ADEN with a bundle of papers Sherburne went over 
 -*- y to Aunt Violet's to dinner. Gayeties had come 
 mostly to an end and except for the Easter weddings, 
 nothing was planned but summer tours. Uncle Paul was 
 strongly minded to spend the season in Germany and 
 Switzerland, taking all the children, Violet being in- 
 cluded. 
 
 "Do you know," said Pearl, " that I think it an awful 
 shame that you must run up to New York when we 
 should have been so glad to have you here, Cousin Sher- 
 burne. You are by far too handsome to be wasted upon 
 that helter-skelter society, and you look as if you danced 
 to perfection. And medicine is such a musty, stuffy, 
 horrid profession ! Why couldn't you ask some one's 
 advice before plunging into the depths of dry bones?" 
 
 "Yours?" he inquired, laughingly. 
 
 "Yes, mine. It is worth something to people who 
 can shine in society." 
 
 How lovely she was with her dazzling complexion and 
 lustrous, bewildering eyes, and the pretty changing curves 
 of her red, sweet mouth ! 
 
 "And I dare say you have gone and engaged yourself 
 to some plain, strong-minded young woman, who has for- 
 sworn the frivolities of life and does duty work in the 
 slums. ' ' 
 
 "No, I am not engaged," but he flushed. 
 
 3"
 
 312 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "On the very verge of it," she insisted. 
 
 "Not even on the verge of it," he answered, laugh- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Oh dear ! we shall all be old maids and old bach- 
 elors ! Here have been four attractive girl cousins, all 
 sweet and amiable, with more or less good looks, and not 
 one engagement ! Princess had a very warm admirer, 
 but Uncle Con whisked her up to the city. Doesn't 
 Gertrude Maurice make an admirable wife? She was 
 one of ' us girls' ; that is some comfort. And what of 
 Ned Beaumanoir ? You and he are getting on the seri- 
 ous list." 
 
 "Ned hopes to be a 'Ph. D.' in June. He has been 
 teaching and studying. I have not seen much of him. 
 Is twenty on the serious list ? ' ' 
 
 "Goodness me! Are you only twenty? Such a 
 great big, handsome fellow ! " 
 
 They both laughed at that, and then Pearl gave him 
 some amusingly serious advice concerning the snares 
 young women would set for him, and the adroitness with 
 which he must evade them. How utterly charming she 
 was ! And Violet was not far behind. 
 
 Uncle Paul sent him over to the station in the carriage 
 as he had promised to come in on the late train. And 
 somehow he could not feel like a heart-broken young 
 man who had suffered the shame and agony of a woman's 
 perfidy. He had a curious sense of elation, also an un- 
 dercurrent of humiliation. Now that he looked squarely 
 at his winter he had to admit it was not a success, nor 
 yet an unsuccess to be proud of. Yes, he had really 
 been in love with Gertrude Maurice, and if she had not 
 restrained him he would have plunged into all manner of 
 foolishness. Suppose she had looked at him with such
 
 THE LAMP OF REASON. 313 
 
 sweet, wondering, mystifying eyes as Pearl had made to- 
 night ? Well — of course, her eyes were not as fine. He 
 had never insisted to himself that Gertrude was beauti- 
 ful. And — if she had loved him — if before his life had 
 been set in proper lines he had been hampered by an en- 
 gagement ! 
 
 That he was getting very much out of love and in the 
 realm of common sense was evident when his very soul 
 gave a quick throb of thankfulness. And if she had 
 married Uncle Con for money and position was he not 
 well rid of such a mercenary, selfish woman ? 
 
 Then somehow he had not made the impression on 
 Uncle Carew that he had hoped. They all adored him 
 in the family, but — well, he had not studied, he had been 
 careless, wayward, indifferent, quite his own master, and 
 Uncle Carew was right in not approving of such a law- 
 less course. Had he, Sherburne, not been right any- 
 where ? 
 
 He felt sore over this new estimate of himself. He 
 was glad to be sitting in a darkened corner of the stuffy 
 night train, he was glad of the cool, fragrant ride out 
 home with only a few stars and the sky full of white 
 scudding drifts. He wished he could hide away for a few 
 weeks until he came to have a good opinion of himself 
 once more. He had not gone down to the depths while 
 self-esteem was the great thing. 
 
 His mother met him in the hall. 
 
 " O mamma, why did you stay up to this late hour? " 
 he cried. " Surely " 
 
 "O, all is right and well," kissing him fondly. "I 
 only wanted to be sure you had come. Papa has missed 
 you so. O, I wonder if children ever realize how dear 
 they are to their parents ? ' '
 
 3 H THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 He took her in his arms. " No, mother, they do not," 
 in a voice that was unsteady from emotion. " I think 
 now they have to live a long while before they can un- 
 derstand all the sacredness of it. I am only just begin- 
 ning. But you will see as the years go on — God helping 
 me." 
 
 Then they both kissed amid tears. 
 
 Sherburne spent most of the next day in his father's 
 room. The judge was promoted to sitting up in a chair 
 and allowed to look out at the magnificent garniture of the 
 world, especially Sherburne House. They were to be 
 very careful about draughts, but if he progressed favor- 
 ably in another week he might come downstairs. 
 
 Sherburne produced his new budget of papers and re- 
 peated the pleasant and satisfactory visit at the office. 
 They went over the case with a good deal of zest. Sher- 
 burne entered curiously into the spirit of the argument as 
 if he was really fighting the case himself. 
 
 " He would have made a splendid lawyer," his father 
 thought with a sigh. 
 
 Every day there was some improvement now that he 
 had started. He walked about the room, then in the 
 next apartment and out to the schoolroom where the 
 children hailed him with joy. And then downstairs to 
 the noonday luncheon. 
 
 But the illness had made great ravages with him as it 
 often does with men at middle life. His eyes were lan- 
 guid, the rosiness had gone out of his face and wrinkles 
 were settling about his eyes and temples. 
 
 Mr. Bristow was not a little shocked when he came 
 down for a final review of the case. 
 Still the old spirit and fire remained. 
 "There were two or three very fine points in this,
 
 THE LAMP OF REASON. 315 
 
 quite original and telling," exclaimed Mr. Bristow. 
 " You did not lose your force and freshness, evidently." 
 
 "Something of that is due my son. He has been a 
 great help to me," was the satisfied reply. 
 
 "Well! well! A chip of the old block! Judge, 
 what made you allow him to stray off to the dissecting of 
 bones and compounding of messes, when there were 
 fine opportunities right at hand ? We want some strong, 
 eager blood, and well trained minds to meet the coming 
 momentous questions and to make a stand in the name 
 of justice and honor, and the larger respect for one's 
 country." 
 
 "I wish he had chosen that way," responded the 
 father, with a sigh of fresh disappointment. 
 
 Truth to tell, Sherburne was so interested in the case 
 that he went up to hear it argued. It was the greed of 
 a big corporation on one side, and honesty, truth and 
 humanity on the other. It was a splendid and vivid 
 scene, and his pulses throbbed now with fear, now with 
 triumph. He thought they could have made some points 
 stronger. Why it had the ring of the battle fray, and he 
 longed to be in the arena. 
 
 They had telegraphed the success of their side to the 
 judge, but there was so much for Sherburne to relate. 
 His eyes kindled with enthusiasm and his voice had a 
 triumphant ring as if he had been pleading himself. 
 
 It was a happy and grateful household. And then 
 came a wave from outside to make a disturbance. 
 
 This was a letter from Professor Kenneth. Of course 
 through Judge Beaumanoir's illness it would have been an 
 unwarranted intrusion to present any claim, or ask any 
 favor, but the lover with his punctilious sense of respect 
 due in such a case, felt rather as if he had been indulging
 
 3 i 6 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 in a clandestine correspondence. More than once he had 
 resolved to wait until he could prefer his wishes in per- 
 son, but the letters had been such a delight, and he had 
 longed to hear of the daily progress toward recovery, so 
 he had yielded to the seductive temptation, but now he 
 felt it imperative. There was an important reason that 
 he could explain better in conversation than by letter. 
 
 " Yes," commented Mrs. Beaumanoir. And then 
 mother and daughter looked at each other like suddenly 
 detected conspirators. 
 
 "Mamma," Princess began, after a little thought, " I 
 will give him the letter to read, and tell him how it hap- 
 pened. There will be quite a long engagement of course, 
 and we can have time to get used to the fact," flushing 
 and trying to smile. 
 
 " O yes, a long engagement," said the mother. " You 
 are so young." 
 
 " Nineteen in a few months." 
 
 "But you seem younger than that. And somehow I 
 have had so little of you." 
 
 " I will stay at home a year," she promised. 
 Judge Beaumanoir sat out of doors under the shade of 
 three great trees that made a bower of greenery. He 
 had Aunt Aurelia's wheeling chair and could go from 
 point to point and have the fresh air and some exercise 
 without tiring himself. Sherburne had gone in to Ard- 
 more with some important mail, and had promised to 
 lunch with Aunt Fanny who never abrogated any rights 
 and privileges. 
 
 " Papa," began a sweet voice as Princess leaned over 
 the arm of his chair and kissed him, "here is a letter for 
 you to read. And then I have a story to tell you that — 
 that happened just as you were taken ill."
 
 THE LAMP OF REASON. 317 
 
 She did not want to look at him, so she pressed her 
 cheek close to his, unthinkingly, but he felt the soft color 
 come and go with her breathing. Just such a dainty lit- 
 tle thing her mother had been when he wooed her. Yet 
 — somehow 
 
 "My child." He drew her closer, but he knew she 
 was given away with her own and her mother's consent. 
 "Two lovers in one season. Are you quite sure, Prin- 
 cess ? ' ' 
 
 "Quite, papa. I liked Mr. Sevier very much, and I 
 thought Professor Kenneth loved some one else, so I 
 tried " 
 
 "And that is not the love a fine young fellow like Mr. 
 Sevier deserves." 
 
 "No, it is not," earnestly. 
 
 "Your mother mentioned this admirer long ago, so it 
 doesn't take me quite by surprise. I suppose he will 
 have to come and I will have to consent. There is no 
 fault to find with his character, I believe. He has some 
 independent means and a good profession, but men of 
 his acquirements never get rich. And he seems rather 
 grave • 
 
 "But I like the serious side. And I like the intellec- 
 tual poise. I should want to be very proud of — " my 
 husband she was going to say, but paused from delicacy, 
 "of the one I chose. I should want him to stand up 
 with the best and finest, and to feel sure that his gentle- 
 ness did not have a weak strand in it, and that he was a 
 seeker after the real truths. Some one who would like me 
 to keep step with him and not relegate me to childish 
 and frivolous pursuits." 
 
 "What an ambitious little body ! " 
 
 A happy undercurrent of earnestness seemed to touch
 
 318 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 her with its lightest tone and diffuse a fine spiritual grace 
 over her features. He could understand the leaning to- 
 ward the intellectual side and was proud of it, but would 
 she live any nobler, sweeter life than her mother? 
 
 " Are you not quite satisfied, papa ? " 
 
 The soft appealing voice touched him, moved him al- 
 most to tears, and he took her in his arms, kissing her 
 fervently. 
 
 " I shall be satisfied with your happiness, my darling. 
 And that we know is not altogether dependent on money 
 or position or the praise of the world, but the inner life 
 two people enjoy who are devoted to each other, who do 
 not allow clouds of misunderstanding to arise, and who 
 do their whole duty. All the rest is very pleasant, but 
 it would never make amends for love. And when one 
 goes down to the very soul of things there is nothing so 
 comforting. I have not outgrown it myself. And I am 
 sorry for the lover who comes to be denied." 
 
 " I am sorry, too, papa. I sometimes wonder if it was 
 right to try — if it gave him a hope. ' ' 
 
 " You must not torment your sweet soul. Love is 
 quite independent of one's own volition, even at times 
 when it is most unwise, and demands a sacrifice of 
 self. And so I suppose we must send for this lover 
 and allow him to say his say, and then he will take you 
 away. ' ' 
 
 " But I am not going in a long time," smilingly. 
 
 " I couldn't give you up if there were not some more 
 girls. Thank two little sisters that I am not selfish." 
 
 "Papa was very good and sweet," she said to her 
 mother when she entered the house. "And now I must 
 write my letter." 
 
 She was extremely happy and busy and tender. It
 
 THE LAMP OF REASON. 319 
 
 was such a delicious thing to live and be happy, and 
 have love on every side. 
 
 "Princess, what is the matter?" asked Sherburne, a 
 day or two after. " You seem just running over with 
 something, and though we are all grateful and glad about 
 papa, why you should be so much more joyous puzzles 
 me." 
 
 Princess* face was scarlet. O, had Sherburne loved in 
 this manner ? No wonder then that he had felt hurt and 
 angry, but Gertie had not really promised to love him. 
 
 "You will know to-morrow, so perhaps I had better 
 make a virtue of it and tell you to-day. Professor Ken- 
 neth is coming down, and " 
 
 " O Prin ! You don't mean — What possesses all you 
 girls to fall in love with old fellows ! " 
 
 "He isn't so very old," was the sober reply. 
 
 "Bertram will go wild with joy. You will have to 
 share a divided heart. And — you love him?" 
 
 "Of course," rather gaily; but with bright color. 
 
 Sherburne began to pace up and down with his hands 
 clasped behind his back. 
 
 "Princess," he exclaimed, suddenly, " I talked a lot 
 of bosh about Gertrude Maurice, didn't I? " 
 
 "O — don't call it that!" she cried, in a hurt tone. 
 Could he so soon get over even an ordinary affection ? 
 The briefest one seemed sacred in her eyes. 
 
 " Yes, it was bosh ! It was worse. I begin to think 
 now I acted like a brute or a fiend." 
 
 "And you did not love her? " in surprise. 
 
 " Yes, I did. Perhaps in the course of my life I shall 
 see some one to love quite as well, for after all, why 
 should a fellow go mooning for years about a woman 
 who did not care for him. Yes, I think Gertie cared a
 
 320 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 good deal and we might have been jolly good friends if 
 I hadn't taken up this idiotic notion ! I was half jealous 
 of all the younger fellows, but I didn't really think of 
 Uncle Con. I begin to see that I was a conceited fool 
 all the way through." 
 
 " O Sherburne ! " with tenderest sympathy. 
 
 "I've done a good deal of sober thinking since I 
 came home. Princess, I do not believe even you can 
 understand the feeling it gave me when mother came to 
 my arms that night, just as if all else was gone, and I 
 was her sole dependence. It roused all the manliness in 
 me, and I had been just a pleasure-loving fellow, suiting 
 himself and not caring much how other people liked it. 
 And the strain of those days " 
 
 His voice had a tremble in it and he stopped a mo- 
 ment. Princess would have clasped her arms about 
 him, but she was afraid they would both cry over the re- 
 membered sorrow. 
 
 " So I have thought a good deal and had several fights 
 with my own vanity and folly and that determination to 
 make everybody see through my eyes, even Gertrude," 
 and he gave a half forced laugh. " I have wanted to 
 mend a statement I insisted upon, but there has not come 
 to hand just the opportunity. It was not true or fair 
 about her, and I am heartily ashamed that I should have 
 done such an unmanly thing. She did decline my pro- 
 posal before Uncle Con asked her — probably she has told 
 you all this. I gathered a little hope from one thing she 
 said — that she was not counting on marriage for some 
 years to come. And when I found out the engagement 
 I was furious. I didn't mind what I said. I acted like 
 an idiot, and I guess I made every one pretty uncom- 
 fortable. I just wish I could blot the whole thing out, I
 
 THE LAMP OF REASON. 321 
 
 feel so mean and foolish about it. Gertrude was right 
 and sensible, and an engagement would have been a 
 wretched thing." 
 
 "I am glad you see that," Princess said, in a sweet 
 tone, raising her eyes with a commendation still stronger. 
 
 " So I want to ask your pardon for the bad tempers 
 and the untrue things I said. I think lying a mean, des- 
 picable vice, and false accusations and all that, and I am 
 heartily ashamed of having been betrayed into such un- 
 reasonable folly. I wanted to make myself believe that I 
 was a badly used and much injured heroic young fellow, 
 whose life and prospects were set all astray, when I had 
 not even taken hold of the sensible end of life." 
 
 "Uncle Con will be so glad. You will tell him?" 
 persuasively. 
 
 Sherburne's face was scarlet. 
 
 "I do owe him an apology, and when I get enough 
 courage, shall make it. And I ought to thank Gertie for 
 her good sense. She said I would live to thank her, and 
 that a man who would throw himself away because a 
 woman did not like him was a very poor sort of man. 
 He would be an unmitigated fool ! I can't help thinking 
 that Gertie was charming and agreeable and bright, and 
 there was another indescribable quality that she rarely 
 used to me, but when she did I went up to the seventh 
 heaven. I suppose that is fascination. And no matter 
 how much I cared, an honest man has no right to be 
 thinking or longing for another man's wife." 
 
 "O no, no ! " 
 
 " You see I have had a good many hours in which to 
 think these things over. And papa has been so good and 
 generous and indulgent that I must consider how to make 
 some return."
 
 322 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " O Sherburne ! " She did clasp her arms about his 
 neck then and kissed him with warm affection. 
 
 "I don't know but I am a volatile, unsteady fellow 
 after all, and I really do want to make the sort of man 
 that wields an influence in the world. I am not sure that 
 medicine is my forte and I think now if father will take 
 me into training, I won't rebel even if it is hard. I do 
 want to be a man of purpose and endeavor." 
 
 " He will be so glad. O, have you told him ? " 
 
 " No, I have not yet. You see I have taken up two 
 things already, and I am afraid he won't have real faith 
 in me. But I am going to write to Uncle Carew and ex- 
 plain all to him. I am ashamed of the past winter. 
 The only redeeming feature is that it was foolish and not 
 really vicious. Dear Princess, how I must have tried 
 you. O, I hope you will be very, very happy." 
 
 Her eyes were dewy with emotion. 
 
 " I cannot tell you how delighted your resolve makes me. 
 I know your decision was a great disappointment to papa. 
 And now that he has been spared to us we must try to 
 show him our earnest k>ve not only in words but deeds." 
 
 Princess was very proud of her handsome brother just 
 then. She did love peace and unity, and truth and all 
 the higher virtues, and Sherburne had caused her many 
 a heartache with his unjust view of matters and his un- 
 reasonable tempers. And she had given thanks when 
 she remarked the fact of his growing into accord with 
 papa, of his paying a sweet filial reverence, and no longer 
 indulging in cynical and faithless flings. 
 
 He went to the station on Saturday and brought home 
 not only Princess' lover, but Bertram, who coaxed the 
 indulgence out of him and was full of enthusiastic joy 
 over his father's recovery.
 
 THE LAMP OF REASON. 323 
 
 Before Sunday evening the household felt in the very 
 air that Professor Kenneth belonged to Princess in some 
 mysterious manner. They sat out on the wide, fragrant 
 porch and watched the young moon coming up, and he 
 had little difficulty in finding love's own mysterious lan- 
 guage into which to put sentences as he held the dainty 
 little hands. But she was glad the soft twilight hid her 
 glowing cheeks. 
 
 All day he had hidden half his errand. But it was 
 confessed on Monday. He had received a very flatter- 
 ing proposal to be one of the speakers at the Oxford 
 Summer School, and also to deliver a course of five lec- 
 tures before a scientific society of note. He would have to 
 go abroad immediately after commencement, when his 
 duties in the city ended. There would be a stay of a 
 month at least in London, and then time for a little tour 
 on the continent. And if he might take Princess ! 
 
 Of course he had no more idea of wedding finery 
 than he had of building a house, only people were mar- 
 ried every day and went their way as if it was the sim- 
 plest thing in the world. The journey would be so de- 
 lightful for Princess, and somehow she rather longed to 
 see her husband acquit himself among the English 
 savants. Then the season would be at its height, and 
 after all it was quite a grand thing to see the titled style 
 and quality. 
 
 "But I promised mamma a year," she said, ruefully. 
 " I thought it would be a long engagement." 
 
 " But I have loved you a long while," he said, in reply, 
 " and it has had the solemnity of an engagement to me. 
 If you could only consent ; ' ' and there was a wistfulness 
 in his tone that went to her young heart. 
 
 Doctor Underwood had said a sea voyage would do
 
 324 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 more for the judge than anything else, and urged him to 
 go. The Amorys would be abroad, and they had sug- 
 gested Princess joining them. 
 
 Grandmamma Beaumanoir and Aunt Fanny would 
 care for the rest of the children and look after Sherburne 
 House. 
 
 However nothing was positively decided. The little 
 mother must have time to consider. And only such a 
 few weeks intervened ! 
 
 Judge Beaumanoir had been very well pleased with 
 his prospective son-in-law and quite satisfied with his de- 
 votion. But he had grown so fond of his darling he 
 hated to give her up. 
 
 Perhaps it was the long talk the father and son had a 
 few days later that settled the matter. For Sherburne 
 explained his new resolve and begged that he might be- 
 gin again, this time in truer earnest, and with a higher 
 mental resolve. 
 
 "I am still interested in medicine to a certain extent, 
 but surgery is distasteful to me," he admitted. " I think 
 I have been looking at Uncle Carew's standing and fame, 
 without considering the steps necessary to reach it. And 
 then I had a thought of playing Doctor Underwood's role 
 down here, sometime, but he will have a son of his own 
 to educate for the place, who will be a born surgeon." 
 
 Judge Beaumanoir gave a satisfied smile. 
 
 " Not all men can reach Doctor Carew's eminence, even 
 if they do an excellent work in the world, and some of 
 the most conscientious physicians live and die compara- 
 tively unknown. But I think no man could drop down, 
 or fail to do his best work with Aunt Lyndell for a com- 
 panion. And you need not consider the past winter al- 
 together wasted. You have gained some experience of
 
 THE LAMP OF REASON. 325 
 
 the world, and if you settle to the law you will find that 
 no knowledge and no training ever comes amiss." 
 
 Sherburne colored. The other experience would re- 
 main unconfessed where his parents were concerned. It 
 was a boy's foolishness, and yet the sweetness of a 
 first love lingered. And though he had felt a little 
 affronted that Princess should consider it not only un- 
 wise but of no great moment or permanency, he under- 
 stood that her own half-hidden regard overwhelmed it 
 when the love was acknowledged. He had also heard it 
 whispered that his father had once been quite in love 
 with Aunt Lyndell, and now they were excellent friends. 
 Auntie Dell had loved some one else; and surely his 
 father had been very happy. So his ill-fated regard was 
 to remain a secret in Princess' heart. 
 
 " I suppose I am thinking of the fame, and the — the 
 admiration," confessed Sherburne, with rising color. 
 " When I listened to Mr. Bristow's brilliant argument, 
 which after all was largely yours, and at some moments I 
 wanted to protest," half laughing, " I was carried along 
 as if with a swift current. Then when one and another 
 said — ' It was fine, but if your father had spoken instead, 
 you would have heard something remarkable,' I couldn't 
 help thinking that it was a grand gift to be able to sway 
 people like that. I suppose I am considering the attrac- 
 tive parts," hesitating and flushing. 
 
 "It is well to consider them. There is a great deal in 
 what is called personal magnetism, which is largely 
 having a gift and finding the right place in which to 
 exercise it. We see men out of place everywhere. You 
 are a fine speaker, Sherburne, and have a presence that 
 will impress an audience. I will admit that it would 
 have been the regret of my life if you had settled to
 
 326 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 medicine. But there is a good deal of hard work before 
 you — it is not altogether a rose-lined path." 
 
 " You have taken many of the brambles out, and I am 
 not sure but in some things the prestige of your name 
 will tarry me along. 1 have resolved in sober earnest to 
 do my best, and next fall you will have a resolute 
 student." 
 
 It was true Sherburne's heart had been fired with un- 
 wonted zeal. More than one of his father's friends had 
 spoken of the hope of seeing him follow in the same 
 steps. 
 
 "I am more fully satisfied than you can realize now, 
 Sherburne," returned his father, leaning back with a 
 smile of infinite gratification. "I did hate to think of 
 the structure I had reared going into other hands, or drop- 
 ping out altogether, for Bertram will have no gift for 
 this profession. And I realize suddenly that I am no 
 longer in the heyday of youth," smiling rather regret- 
 fully ; "I shall be glad to have a strong young staff to 
 lean upon, when I begin to turn on the other side of the 
 path where the shadows lengthen." 
 
 Sherburne came and laid his hand on his father's 
 shoulder. He had adored him before, of course, and 
 been very proud of him, his soul had been full of pas- 
 sionate regret when he had seen him lying in death's 
 doorway, but it seemed as if he had never truly loved 
 him until this moment. And the boy's resolve to be a 
 dearer, tenderer son thrilled every pulse within his soul. 
 
 " There is another point that it is well to begin with," 
 continued the judge, with grave sweetness. " Many 
 men are wrecked on the rock of expediency. We look 
 at the world and see wrong prospering everywhere, we 
 think, and the tender gracious sacrificing souls pushed to
 
 THE LAMP OF REASON. 327 
 
 the wall. So we resolve upon winning success by any 
 means. I thought this way when my ambition was first 
 roused, and I was older than you when I began to look 
 at life seriously. But I have learned much since, and I 
 hope now to go on learning all my life. There is nothing 
 like truth and integrity for the corner-stones of life. 
 When you stand firmly by them the real fineness of 
 human nature comes out and the world begins to respect 
 you for the better qualities, and does not offer you its 
 dirty work. You find the true nobleness and higher ap- 
 preciation of the world. Your fellow-men trust you, 
 even those who are continually studying how to cheat and 
 deceive, and steal, for all money unjustly taken is steal- 
 ing. We cannot right all the wrongs in this world, but 
 we can refrain from doing what we ourselves know and 
 recognize as a glaring wrong." 
 
 " You shall be my teacher and mentor," the young 
 fellow replied, with a dewiness in his eyes and an un- 
 wonted touch of emotion in his voice.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE HIGH RESOLVES OF YOUTH. 
 
 PRINCESS BEAUMANOIR found herself suddenly 
 A the centre of interest and attraction. Aunt Violet 
 came down with the two girls for a little respite from 
 gayety and a rest, and to explain her plans to grand- 
 mamma, and found Tessy in the midst of great per- 
 plexity. Princess could hardly decide whether she 
 wanted to be married so soon or not. When a letter 
 came from her lover she was willing to go to the ends of 
 the earth with him, and when she considered all that 
 marriage meant, the beginning of a separate and lifelong 
 interest, the solemnity awed her and she clung to her 
 mother. 
 
 "We might all go abroad together," said the fond 
 mother, " and have a happy summer, and if you like, the 
 marriage could take place in the autumn. When Sher- 
 burne is twenty-one there is to be a gathering of the 
 Clans," and the happy light illumined her face. 
 
 Was it possible that in a little more than three years 
 they would have been married a quarter of a century ? 
 She was round and rosy and youthful in figure and bear- 
 ing, but there were some fine traces of the finger marks 
 of time in the happy face. And Leonard seemed to 
 have aged suddenly during his illness. But when one 
 saw this growing flock of girls and boys, three of whom 
 were taking their own try at the world, one had to 
 admit the years 
 
 328
 
 THE HIGH RESOLVES OF YOUTH. 329 
 
 " I really think I should have ihe marriage," decided 
 Aunt Violet. " You see Leonard, you won't want to 
 spend a month or so in the heat and turmoil of London, 
 and Princess will want to see and hear everything con- 
 nected with her lover. It isn't as if he was a recent ac- 
 quaintance, but it is almost two years since we met him, 
 and it seems now that he has had his eye on Princess, and 
 been waiting for her to unfold into womanhood. Then 
 the Carews have known about the Kenneths for years. 
 And since he is Princess' choice — though I can't see why 
 Mr. Sevier was not the favored one." 
 
 "I can see," answered her brother, with an amused 
 but rather protesting expression. "Still it seems to me 
 Mr. Sevier is more to a young girl's fancy. But Princess 
 is a little different from most girls. I don't think we 
 have ever given the midget due credit for all her ambi- 
 tion." 
 
 " Do you suppose that was at the bottom of her college 
 enthusiasm? Yet she gave it up," and Violet looked 
 puzzled. 
 
 " Her mother persuaded her out of it. College is a 
 necessity for the women going into professions who must 
 measure their knowledge with their brothers striving for 
 the same place. We are still old-fashioned enough to be- 
 lieve in wives and mothers. But Princess will be hap- 
 pier with a man who is reaching up to new heights. She 
 is like her mother, she must be ambitious for some one. 
 And when the professor comes out of his seclusion, he is 
 quite a charming man. She can always be proud of him 
 and I think she need not be afraid of ' fads ' running 
 away with his good sense. Then he has a firm belief in 
 the Creator of all. One feels safer in giving his daughter 
 into such hands."
 
 33o THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Judge Beaumanoir's voice unconsciously took on a 
 reverent tone. 
 
 "It is the tribute we pay to the true coin," he added. 
 " And people try to imitate it as nearly as possibly while 
 they endeavor to deny the real value, and cry out that 
 the other is just as good. But they know better, and 
 keep rubbing up the sham to make it more nearly agree." 
 
 Violet thought of her own young life, of all their lives. 
 Had they been more strenuous ? 
 
 "There are curious changes going on in the world all 
 the time," she said, retrospectively. 
 
 "Yes." He gave a soft little laugh. "And I think 
 I demand more of my boy than my father demanded of 
 me. What a lazy self-loving cub I was ! But I have 
 spent twenty years in the midst of earnest endeavor. 
 Have I told you that Sherburne has decided to take up 
 law ? ' ' 
 
 "O Leonard. That is splendid! And such a con- 
 nection as he can step into ! Then he will make a fine 
 pleader." 
 
 "If he doesn't get spoiled by admiration ! But there 
 are a good many smart people in the world, and every 
 one who succeeds has to make an effort. I can't tell you 
 how glad I am to have him come back to me. I think I 
 was pretty jealous of Bert Carew. And here is my own 
 Bertram adoring Professor Kenneth as the greatest man 
 in the world." 
 
 There was an expression of amused complaint in his 
 face. 
 
 " Poor Leonard ! " she said, with mock sympathy. " I 
 feel resigned to the trial of a rather self-loving beauty. 
 But this is wandering from the subject. Marry off the 
 young people. Then come with us and in some quiet
 
 THE HIGH RESOLVES OF YOUTH. 331 
 
 German bathing town renew your health and youth. 
 Tessy and I will pull out the white hairs that are begin- 
 ning to sprinkle your temples." 
 
 " Indeed I shall cultivate them as indications of exper- 
 ience and wisdom. Your plan has a good deal to rec- 
 ommend it, however." 
 
 Sherburne endorsed it heartily. He was pretty busy 
 attending to numerous duties for his father, who some- 
 how did not seem to get back his old robustness. 
 
 " I think you can trust me to be head of the family 
 awhile," he said. "I will send for Ned Beaumanoir 
 who has studied himself to a shadow and means to take 
 one of the big prizes. And we can ask some of the other 
 cousins, while Aunt Fanny can boss us all." 
 
 When Judge Beaumanoir went up to Washington and 
 returned pale and fatigued, he at once acquiesced in the 
 plan of going abroad. And the marriage seemed to get 
 settled of itself. 
 
 "So far as clothes go," said Aunt Violet, "Princess 
 can have a wedding gown and a traveling dress. The 
 rest she can buy abroad, or after she comes home in the 
 autumn." 
 
 Mrs. Kenneth had meant to visit Washington and be 
 in the midst of the girls, but there had been so much go- 
 ing on all the time. Now she was invited to Sherburne 
 House for a good long visit, and would remain until the 
 weather became altogether too warm. 
 
 Bertram was delighted with the prospect as well as the 
 fact that the professor was really to belong to them, and 
 that after he had graduated they would spend a solid 
 year abroad, for he considered his claims almost as good 
 as those of Princess. 
 
 Sherburne had written a very manly letter to Doctor
 
 332 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Carew, and received a most cordial reply. Uncle Bert 
 entirely approved of the change. 
 
 " Not but what you could make a good physician if you 
 had set about it in earnest," he said, "but I think there 
 is a wider scope for your talents in the law. And you will 
 have the best of training under your father's careful eye. 
 We shall watch your career with as much pride as if we 
 were to have a hand in moulding it. And whatever else 
 you may attain to there will never be any pleasure so 
 sweet in your later years as the knowledge that you have 
 been a good and noble son to your father." 
 
 Many a time Sherburne had resolved to write to Uncle 
 Con. Then he thought he would go up to the city, but 
 he really shrank from a meeting. Now that he had come 
 to his senses a little he saw how utterly foolish he had 
 been, and worse still in his unfounded accusations against 
 Gertrude. He wrote letters and tore them up. Some 
 were too justifying, some too boyish. And at last he sim- 
 ply said : 
 
 "Dear Uncle Con : 
 
 " Will you trust me for all explanations and apol- 
 ogies until we meet. 
 
 " Sheriiurne." 
 
 "There!" exclaimed Uncle Con, laughingly, as he 
 held the note before Gertrude, " the lad has come to his 
 senses. That is better than pages of balderdash. And 
 his going in his father's office is the most judicious step 
 he can take. We shall be proud of the boy some day." 
 
 "He would make a charming doctor. Silly women 
 would run crazy after him, and conjure up all manner of 
 pains and aches. And rich women would want him at
 
 THE HIGH RESOLVES OF YOUTH. 333 
 
 their elbow. He could make no end of money, but it 
 would not be a very ennobling life," returned Gertrude. 
 
 " And there are still silly women left ? " There was a 
 mischievous glint in Con Murray's eye. 
 
 " There will be until the end of time, since there are 
 men to admire them," she retorted. 
 
 "And to think our little Princess is going to marry the 
 wise and learned doctor of Padua, and that I have lost 
 her completely. Perhaps she will accept a night's shelter 
 under our hospitable roof when she returns as Mrs. Ken- 
 neth." 
 
 The Murrays had set up housekeeping and given a re- 
 ception. It was thronged, though people were hurrying 
 out of the city. More than one woman wondered " how 
 she had captured Con Murray," and if Mrs. Townsend 
 had not made the match. Gertrude was gracious, agree- 
 able, and had an undeniable charm, though no one could 
 tell exactly what it was. And she found the home at- 
 mosphere quite pungent and spicy at times, but she was 
 equal to it. The years of bachelorhood had expanded 
 and intensified traits that never get firmly rooted in the 
 gardens of youth. 
 
 Princess was simply overwhelmed with letters when the 
 fact of the coming marriage was known. Sherburne in- 
 sisted that she stood in need of a private secretary to an- 
 swer them all, and to acknowledge wedding gifts that 
 were already being sent in. It surprised her to see the 
 interest every one took in what she had meant to have a 
 very simple affair. It would be in the old church, of 
 course, with all the relatives around, and the little girls 
 who had grown up to womanhood since Cousin Nora 
 was married. Other little girls who were babies then, 
 and who would one day have lovers and then husbands.
 
 334 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Aunt Julia and Ray were the first guests. Aunt Julia 
 was very feeble now, and the indications were that Mrs. 
 Beaumanoir who was the oldest of the Sherburne sisters 
 would be the last one of her family and generation. 
 
 " It gives one a solemn thought," Judge Beaumanoir 
 said to his wife, " to see the passing of families. I can 
 remember so well my own grandfather being here and 
 Great-aunt Aurelia, and all the own aunts and uncles. 
 Sherburne House seems to gather all the family histories 
 in its bosom. And presently my darling, we shall be old 
 folks, with our children married off. Six weddings. 
 Think of it! " 
 
 "Some one will have to provide for three of them," 
 she returned with a smile. "And we shall not mind 
 growing old when we have two such lovely examples as 
 your parents and mine." 
 
 He stooped and kissed her and recalled the first time 
 her mother and father came to Sherburne House. 
 
 There were lovely days for Princess and her mother, 
 since they had taken Aunt Violet's advice about wed- 
 ding gear, and Uncle Con had sent her a lovely wedding 
 gown of beautiful lace to be worn over silk. The mar- 
 riage could not take place until mid-June, on account of 
 the commencements. But passages were engaged and 
 all things made ready. Ned Beaumanoir had gladly ac- 
 cepted his cousin's invitation to come and " keep house." 
 
 Then Mrs. Kenneth and Ruth Ensign arrived. They 
 had traveled carefully, though Mrs. Kenneth had im- 
 proved through the winter. She sometimes did, and 
 then dropped back again. But she had been very tran- 
 quil in her mind over her daughter's happiness, and 
 taken a warm interest in her brother-in-law's hopes. 
 
 "It will be quite an ideal marriage, as you will see,"
 
 THE HIGH RESOLVES OF YOUTH. 335 
 
 she said to Tessy. " They have so many tastes and beliefs 
 alike, and he has such a world of undeveloped tender- 
 ness. The most fortunate step of his whole life was go- 
 ing to Melchias, though he and Mr. Murray had been 
 friends for years." 
 
 Princess became quite accustomed to hearing the mar- 
 riage discussed, though it sometimes seemed as if the in- 
 terested person must be some other than herself. And if 
 there had been a lingering suspicion about Ruth it was 
 quite set at rest now. She took the warmest satisfaction 
 in the marriage, and she repeated so many bits of talk in 
 
 this fashion 
 
 " One night when we were sitting round the fire the 
 professor exclaimed, ' O, do you remember our climb up 
 Robin's Point, when Miss Princess said this or that, 
 or our walk on the rocky shore when Miss Princess re- 
 peated this bit of verse ? ' I think he never forgot any- 
 thing you said or did. It was like a picture in his mind. 
 I felt sure by that it must be love. And Princess, dear, 
 what a sweet thing it is to be loved so well." 
 It was doubly sweet to hear this. 
 Ray was very tender and affectionate also, though she 
 admitted she was surprised at first. 
 
 In the city there were thousands of hopes and fears, 
 loves and heartbreaks, ambitions and disappointments. 
 The professor went his way with outward quiet, attended 
 his classes, made plans for the coming year, advised, 
 consoled, examined, and made time every evening to 
 write to his betrothed. Deeply as he was engrossed he 
 did not forget for a moment the sunshine that was to 
 bless his life, the heart that was to beat in unison with 
 his. "His little girl," he often said, and he was glad 
 she was small and dainty and fine. Not for a world
 
 336 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 would he have her changed in any particular. And he 
 often wondered how he had dared to choose her, how out 
 of the world of attractive men she had preferred him. 
 
 That is the mystery of love, never to be explained or 
 unfolded. The soul that quickens and kindles, and 
 awakes a depth one hardly dreamed of possessing, and 
 draws one hitherward until there is the delicious fusion of 
 soul and spirit — and life is pervaded with a heavenly 
 satisfaction — can one weigh and apportion a part to each ? 
 
 Bertram's first year in college had been a success. 
 There were some trials and irritations, some failures and 
 amendments, but the examinations were passed success- 
 fully, and he was now a triumphant sophomore. 
 
 " 1 shall not stay for all the rest," he said, eagerly, to 
 his uncle. "I'm just wild to see papa, as he is going 
 away so soon. And Princess and all of them." 
 
 So he packed his trunk for a good, long vacation and 
 no end of fun. 
 
 "Though I do hope Sher won't turn cross and nasty, 
 and boss us all about. Think how funny it will be for 
 him and Cousin Ned to be the grand high dukes ! " 
 
 But that very evening Cousin Ned came in, large-eyed, 
 thin and triumphant. 
 
 " Wish me joy ! My paper takes the first prize, three 
 hundred dollars. And my degree is sure. You must 
 come, Uncle Carew and Auntie Dell, and see me acquit 
 myself. And I've earned enough to carry me through 
 without asking father for a penny." 
 
 "A fine record, my boy," said Doctor Carew, heartily. 
 He was thinking, too, of his own boy and wondering a 
 little — he had set his heart on a plan for him, but occa- 
 sionally there had been a fear. He was a good student, 
 a fine athlete, an enthusiastic lad about games and sports.
 
 THE HIGH RESOLVES OF YOUTH. 337 
 
 In his boyhood he had been extremely proud of his 
 father's profession and quite resolved to follow it. Lat- 
 terly he seldom referred to it, indeed the last year when 
 the boys talked over their plans he never announced his, 
 if he had any. But that he was studying resolutely for 
 something, his father well understood. 
 
 There had been a good deal of excitement about the 
 wedding, the close of school, the visit at Sherburne 
 House, and the winding up of various benevolent 
 works, as well as the summer charities and plans for 
 vacation. 
 
 " The children have been invited to remain at Sherburne 
 House as long as they like," said Lyndell. " Randolph 
 proposes to stay all summer with the boys, so he is pro- 
 vided for. Millicent must have seaside. O dear, every 
 year grows busier ! What a responsibility was taken off 
 of us when Sherburne settled his future. And Bertram 
 will be in the professor's care next year. We shall be 
 quite by ourselves." 
 
 "We ought to be thankful they have all fared so well. 
 Really they are a set of young people to be proud of," 
 the Doctor smiled cordially. 
 
 " I wonder if Randolph will try to enter college. He 
 is so reticent about his own plans." 
 
 " He doesn't mean to this year, I know." 
 
 " He is quite young — I think he had better wait." 
 
 " He has no intention. Another year at the institute 
 will do him no harm." But the crease in the doctor's 
 brow deepened. He thought sometimes he had been too 
 busy with other people's lives to give the proper interest 
 to his own children, since they were healthy and happy, 
 and surrounded by love and comfort. 
 
 Prodigies were not at all to his liking. He had re-
 
 338 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 solved that nerves and intellect, physical speculation and 
 training should be left to a later period. There had 
 sometimes been over-indulgence on the part of his father 
 and Aunt Neale, he thought, but this was a hard matter 
 to restrict, so he had let it go with a smile. 
 
 It was quite late when Randolph came in from his boy 
 friend's. They talked about Ned's prize at which he was 
 delighted. 
 
 " I wonder if you would like to go to Sherburne with 
 Bertram to-morrow?" his mother asked. "He is 
 through and so are you." 
 
 "No, not to-morrow. And I would like to hear 
 Cousin Ned. When do you go? " 
 
 "Just in time for the wedding, with all my caravan," 
 and a laugh shone in the mother's eyes. " Princess is as 
 exigent as Nora was. Every girl cousin must be gowned 
 in white. What a pretty sight it will be." 
 
 " Yes, quite worth seeing. It is funny to think of 
 Princess marrying Professor Kenneth. Then it will be 
 next week." 
 
 Lyndell nodded. She was studying the big boy from 
 top to toe. His curly, bright brown hair, his fair face 
 somewhat sunburned, his merry eyes not as soft as hers 
 were now, not indeed "velvet eyes" as Millicent had 
 called them, but full of fire and spirit as well as fun ; a 
 very respectable nose and a rather firm mouth and chin. 
 Not the Beaumanoir beauty to be sure, hardly beauty at 
 all at sixteen, but honest and upright and fearless. A 
 fine frame, filled out rather more than one might expect 
 at that age, but Randolph had never been "spindling." 
 How tall he was — quite overtopping Bertram. 
 
 "Well, mamma," with a rather embarrassed laugh, 
 "is there something unusual about me?"
 
 THE HIGH RESOLVES OF YOUTH. 339 
 
 "Except that you grow every moment. What a tall 
 fellow you are ! " 
 
 "But the Carews grow up quickly, Aunt Neale says," 
 was the boy's reply. 
 
 "And some day we shall have you bringing home 
 prizes, I hope," said his mother. "I can't have my 
 children distanced." 
 
 He colored, and made as if he would speak, but did 
 not. Dell remarked it. 
 
 "You must go to bed. We must all go," exclaimed 
 his father. "But, my son, I do not like to have you 
 staying out so late as this." 
 
 "We were talking of something that interested me 
 very much, and I did not notice the time. But it was set- 
 tled as far as it could be and won't be talked over again." 
 "Is it a secret?" asked his mother, as she rose. 
 " Boys have secrets as well as girls." 
 
 Randolph came and put his hand over his father's 
 shoulder, but he was looking at his mother, and an odd 
 flush wavered over his face. 
 
 "I didn't mean to say anything just yet, because it is 
 so uncertain, but I think I ought not go on keeping it to 
 
 myself, though I am afraid ' ' 
 
 "Is it any trouble ? " asked his father, quickly, in the 
 pause. 
 
 "It's a wish, my wish, but I know it is not what you 
 have planned for me. I am beginning to think I could 
 not agree to that unless you insisted, and it doesn't seem 
 as if any one ought to take up a profession half-heart- 
 edly." 
 
 "I shall not insist," returned his father, gravely. 
 "What is your preference?" 
 
 " I have another year at school, I know. I should
 
 34Q THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 not be old enough until then. I want to go to West 
 Point afterward." 
 
 "O Randolph!" his mother said, almost sharply. 
 
 " That may be only a boy's fancy. Boys change their 
 minds. And there are some other things. It is a gov- 
 ernment appointment after you have passed your ex- 
 amination." 
 
 "Yes, that is what we were talking about to-night. 
 Philip Weston's uncle will have a voice in the appoint- 
 ment of the candidate next year. He wanted Phil to 
 try for it, but Phil isn't a bit soldierly. And I should 
 like it so ! Pve been studying up a good deal. And if 
 I wasn't a soldier I should want to take up engineering. 
 I want a broad, active, out-of-doors life." 
 
 He looked fine and spirited as he said this. Then as 
 no one answered at once, he continued 
 
 " I know grandpapa will feel disappointed. He has 
 destined me for papa's footsteps, and if I did not come 
 up to your standard I should always feel sorry and mor- 
 tified. I know I can't. It isn't in me. And it really 
 wasn't in Cousin Sherburne, you see, although he thought 
 he liked it at first. One ought to put one's whole soul in 
 whatever one elects. And the reason I can read Homer 
 so well is because the fighting and the splendid courage 
 in it stirs every pulse of me. And Cicero doesn't inter- 
 est me half as much." 
 
 " There is a good deal of other fighting in the world," 
 said his mother. " And a great deal of bravery needed, 
 and resolve and high purpose." 
 
 " But the kind you like appeals the most strongly to 
 you," replied the boy, his eyes alight with eager pur- 
 pose. 
 
 "See how late it is," subjoined his father. "There
 
 THE HIGH RESOLVES OF YOUTH. 341 
 
 will be time to have a good many talks about this in a 
 year, so we needn't decide to-night." 
 
 " But I'm glad to have you know what I am thinking 
 about, and what I would rather do." 
 
 No one answered and he bent over and kissed his 
 father good-night. He had not grown too old for that. 
 
 When he was gone Lyndell went over to her husband 
 and seating herself on the broad arm of the chair 
 leaned her head down on his shoulder. 
 
 "It's something of a bombshell in our domestic tent," 
 he began, with a touch of amusement, rather more indeed 
 than he felt. 
 
 "O Bertram! you will never consent. It is a boy's 
 whim," she said in a tone of disapproval. 
 
 " If it is a boy's whim it will die out. I am not so 
 much surprised after all. For the last year he has not 
 mentioned medicine of his own accord. I confess it has 
 been a favorite dream of mine. And then his being 
 named after father ' ' 
 
 "After both of you," she amended. 
 
 " Well, father has set his heart on it the most strongly. 
 And he is an old man with not a great many new hopes 
 now. Yes, I am sorry. But a dozen things can hap- 
 pen. He is very young and may not pass. Then after 
 his four years' training he may not get an appointment 
 in these piping times of peace. It is not as certain as 
 the navy. We will not distress ourselves just yet." 
 
 " And think of Harry Lepage, with all his honors and 
 promotions, roaming about the world homeless, wifeless, 
 childless." 
 
 " Sailing, you mean." He kissed the mother of Ran- 
 dolph Carew in a comforting fashion. " Naval officers 
 do have wives and children if they so elect. And the
 
 342 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 military training at its best is excellent. There is self- 
 imposed discipline, implicit obedience, endurance, regu- 
 lar work " 
 
 "And temptation — gambling and drunkenness," she 
 exclaimed with strong abhorrence. 
 
 " Which we find here in our city, among rich and 
 poor. Then, my dear, you forget about Major Stan- 
 wood, a noble gentleman, and Archie. I think the very 
 discipline and self-denial enabled him to bear his troubles 
 with a braver front and more excellent wisdom. What I 
 should regret are the few chances for promotion, the in- 
 dolent life out on the frontier which must kill ambition." 
 
 " I can never consent. O, the little children ! How 
 I have enjoyed them. Will ever any time be so happy 
 again when they begin to go out of the old home?" 
 
 "When they are married and gone to new interests, 
 and we are but secondary in their lives. When business 
 opportunities call them away, — when we are left together, 
 as we began life years ago, my darling. And if God 
 should spare us to each other shall we not rejoice in 
 duties well done and give thanks for blessed years?" 
 
 "You are so large in your thoughts, Bertram; you 
 see so many things — " her voice broke and she put her 
 face close down by his, wet with some tears. Yes, he 
 was the lover of her youth, and they could not be young 
 always. And children had individualities of their own.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A BROAD, BRIGHT SPACE. 
 
 THERE had been many happy reunions at Sherburne 
 House as is the case frequently with large families 
 with hospitable impulses and affectionate regard. There 
 was always a good time. Judge Beaumanoir's business 
 friends were most enthusiastic about the home delights 
 without the formalisms of society, and yet with charming 
 refinement. 
 
 But on grand occasions the borders widened out and 
 took them all in. These were mostly weddings and some 
 notable birthdays. But now it seemed as if half the 
 county insisted upon an interest. Nora Von Lindorm's 
 marriage was still talked about as if no one could get 
 used to the idea of " Miss Milly " having a daughter old 
 enough to be married. And now little Princess Beauman- 
 oir ! 
 
 The house was like a hotel for guests, as all the chil- 
 dren were bidden. 
 
 " We should be excellent to go out and settle new 
 countries," said Lyndell, with a bright smile, as she 
 ranged her five in a row, more startled than ever at their 
 rapid increase in size. 
 
 Violet Amory put her arm about Lyndell, and the 
 girlish movement took her back years. 
 
 " O, do you remember the first evening you came here, 
 Dell?" in a voice of impulsive retrospect. "It seems 
 strange to think of you as a little girl, and of the in- 
 
 343
 
 344 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 fluencc you have had on all our lives. How far-reaching 
 both good and evil are ! " and she kissed her tenderly. 
 
 " Our hearts would faint within us if we did not be- 
 lieve superior wisdom orders that the good should finally 
 prevail, though our finite patience sometimes tires wait- 
 ing for it. It lies buried deep in many instances, but 
 God shall surely find it." 
 
 " If we could have as much faith in the good ! We 
 see the working of evil and accept it with a strange 
 philosophy almost like fatalism. We ought to feel just as 
 certain of the good. And I occasionally think if we 
 were more enthusiastically certain about it, we should 
 help to bring it to pass by our very earnestness. It would 
 inspire others." 
 
 " Isn't that the evidence of things unseen ? " and Lyn- 
 dell smiled. 
 
 There were many things to plan about. Uncle Con 
 had obtained steamer tickets and inspected state-rooms, 
 and most of the important baggage was safely stored in 
 the city, so there would be no special confusion at the 
 day of sailing. He had almost a mind to run over 
 himself, he declared, but he had promised to remain and 
 allow two of his compeers a vacation. 
 
 " I shall feel so much safer to have you within call," 
 Tessy said. " Not that I anticipate any mishaps, and here 
 is Doctor Underwood at hand. Then you can't imagine 
 what a dependence Sherburne has come to be. And his 
 father is delighted with his change of plans. I fervently 
 hope he will keep to this resolve." 
 
 " O, he has a good deal of perseverance when his 
 heart is set on a thing," returned Con, with a rather 
 mystifying gleam in his eye. 
 
 Sherburne and his uncle had met with a throng of rela-
 
 A BROAD, BRIGHT SPACE. 345 
 
 tives about them. There had only been opportunity for 
 a cordial hand-shake with a great deal of hearty assur- 
 ance on the elder's part, and a very scarlet face on the 
 younger's. And Gertrude was behind with some of 
 the family, so that greeting was quietly familiar. 
 
 The professor had come with their party. In spite of 
 the many last duties that had crowded in he was looking 
 remarkably well. There had been much common sense 
 counsel on Mrs. Kenneth's part that had rectified some 
 of the careless habits. 
 
 " You must remember," she had said, " that the whole 
 duty of marriage is not comprehended in making love 
 and giving your wife a home and support, and expecting 
 her to look after the exquisite minor details that make 
 life run smoothly. She gives you her lovely youth, and 
 though hundreds of men marry with nine or ten years 
 difference in ages, Princess is one of the girls who will 
 keep her youth a long while, and you must not allow 
 yourself to grow old too rapidly." 
 
 " I dare say I shall turn into a frisky Benedict, and be 
 younger at thirty than I was at twenty. What a delight- 
 ful sister you have been to me," he replied, with deep 
 feeling. 
 
 There were so many nooks and corners and places 
 that the lovers strayed off unmolested. It was as if their 
 courtship was just beginning. The others were eagerly 
 discussing everything so that no plan should go wrong at 
 the last moment. 
 
 The morning dawned radiantly. Sherburne brides al- 
 ways had fine wedding days. That the bride should 
 look lovely in her filmy wedding gown and veil was only 
 natural. There was no real sense of separation, that 
 would not come until she was quite settled to her new
 
 346 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 path of life. And since his darling was happy and had 
 a fairly good prospect before her, Judge Beaumanoir 
 gave her to the honorable, refined, and trustworthy gen- 
 tleman, with the best and truest wishes of a father. 
 
 There was a great group of white-robed cherubs, a 
 flock of older girls, and the cousins nearest in age as at- 
 tendants. All Ardmore said it was the prettiest wedding 
 there had ever been in the old church ; and Mr. Armi- 
 tage confessed it a very proud occasion for himself. 
 
 Everybody thronged about, and were full of good 
 wishes and love. The steps and path were thronged with 
 colored people who had strewn the way to the carriage 
 with flowers. The young people were hardly less notice- 
 able, a striking array of cousins, since the families had 
 kept broadening out. 
 
 And then there was a delicious sort of confusion, too 
 really joyous to admit of the pang at parting. The house 
 was full of guests. Hospitality and custom counted for 
 more than any society regulations, and seemed natural 
 and beautiful here, the outgrowth of real and tender 
 feeling. 
 
 The Carews were to go up to New York, leaving Ran- 
 dolph behind for a summer with the boys. The Dray- 
 tons with the two children were to remain awhile, but 
 Mr. Mallory's return was urgent, and his wife was not 
 only devoted to him, but to her ailing father-in-law, 
 who adored her and could hardly bear her out of his 
 sight. 
 
 Tessy smiled to keep from tears. Of course her first 
 duty was to her husband, but it tore her heart to leave 
 her sweet, merry flock for so long. She had not been 
 abroad since the birth of her last baby, and her jaunt to 
 California had included two of the children.
 
 A BROAD, BRIGHT SPACE. 347 
 
 "O Sherburne," she exclaimed, beseechingly, "you 
 will look after them and see that no evil happens ! I 
 shall trust them to you. You have been so tender and 
 thoughtful since papa's illness. It has been such a com- 
 fort to me. I think it enabled me to give away Princess 
 with a better grace. ' ' 
 
 " O mamma, dear, I am glad to have been a comfort 
 to you," and as he gathered her in his arms the tears 
 shone in his eyes. " You may trust them to me, surely. 
 But I shall have so much help that I really will not be 
 able to claim only a little oversight for my part. You 
 and father must feel perfectly at rest, and content." 
 
 His father said something of the same thing to him, 
 and added, "I shall take with me the remembrance of 
 all you have been to me the last three months, and the 
 hope of our truer sympathetic relation in the future. It 
 will be the fulfilment of my most earnest desire." 
 
 The good-byes were said, and the string of carriages 
 rolled away to the station where many of the Ardmore 
 friends awaited them. The pretty bride waved her hand, 
 though there was a mist of tears in her eyes, but the lit- 
 tle mother did not look back. One after another and 
 then the wheels grew fainter and were lost in the dis- 
 tance. 
 
 "Well," declared Uncle Con, "we certainly have 
 a good houseful left," and he glanced around with a 
 smiling sort of condolence. " It seems to be a case of 
 the greatest common divisor." 
 
 Aunt Julia and Mrs. Kenneth were in a gentle current 
 of reminiscences. Ray and Ruth were very sympathetic 
 "twins," Milly Beaumanoir said, because they had only 
 one syllable in their names and that began with R. Ray 
 had buried her sad episode at Mount Desert out of sight.
 
 348 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 and it seemed now like a dream about some other girl, 
 There would always be a memory between her and her 
 father different from that of most parents and children, 
 but they seldom spoke of it, and Aunt Julia had over- 
 lived the pang. God had ended the matter wisely, and 
 they were content to leave it in His hands. There was a 
 peculiar sympathy between these two girls, whose lives 
 had not been unbroken summer. 
 
 Gertrude in a fashion seemed to be the head of the 
 house, as no one else was anxious to take charge. She 
 accepted the position with a great deal of tact and un- 
 failing good humor. The big boys hovered about her, 
 Bertram claiming her on account of the old friendship 
 when they had scrambled over rocks, gathered creeping 
 things, run races and helped the children build seashore 
 palaces. Ned Beaumanoir was curiously attracted as 
 well, and his brother, Leonard, declared Mrs. Murray 
 was a trump. 
 
 Sherburne experienced a pang of jealousy. That boy- 
 ish foolishness was over, and yet — was it really love ? 
 He could recall so many delightful episodes, beginning 
 with that first talk. She was so piquant, she had a way 
 of saying such merry, suggestive things that brought out 
 other people's brightness. And he wanted to be her best 
 friend, her compeer, her chum, if she had been a young 
 fellow. 
 
 There was a rather irregular dinner, for everybody 
 was quite demoralized. They drank toasts however, 
 and some bright speeches were made, and good wishes 
 sent after the travelers. Then the children had a romp 
 in everyday attire, in which Aunt Gertie was the mov- 
 ing spirit, and were ready to go to bed when the two 
 elder invalids thought it time to retire.
 
 A BROAD, BRIGHT SPACE. 349 
 
 Ned Beaumanoir walked down the avenue with the 
 two girls, and they talked the marriage over and the 
 courtship that had somehow gone on so unsuspiciously. 
 
 " But the professor liked her from the very beginning," 
 declared Ray. 
 
 " Of course I didn't see the very beginning," said 
 Ruth, archly, " but they talked of him all the rest of the 
 summer. And he was so fond of talking about her, not 
 in any effusive manner, but saying dainty little things, 
 mentioning those that suggested her. And he has a very 
 lovely, gentle temper, not weak, for I have known him 
 to be quite indignant about some things. He just suits 
 Princess." 
 
 Ray gave a little half sigh, remembering those days of 
 semi- illness when he had suited her so delightfully. And 
 she wondered, girl-like, whether there would ever be any 
 one to fill that place in the vague dream that comes in 
 most girls' lives. 
 
 " I should like to have the same prospect of happiness 
 when I am eight and twenty," declared Ned. " He is 
 held in high esteem, and Princess may be proud enough 
 when she hears him lecturing to the savants as well as 
 the ordinary people." 
 
 "And Princess is prouder of intellectual attainments 
 than she would be of a title." 
 
 " It must be delightful to have any one love you that 
 way," said Ned. "It is enough to inspire one. And 
 it is funny, but no one in the faculty, or outside of it 
 fancied Professor Kenneth a marrying man. He took 
 them all by surprise. Of course it would have been dif- 
 ferent if Princess had been living in the city. After all, 
 a delightful home is the most splendid thing a man can 
 have, and you can't have that without a wife."
 
 35Q THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Both girls laughed a little, and Ray said he was more 
 than half in love with Princess. 
 
 Then they went on discussing marriage and falling in 
 love with the perspicacity of youth and inexperience, and 
 frankly stating likes and dislikes with various bursts of 
 enthusiasm and ideality. 
 
 Randolph Carew had taken possession of Uncle Archie. 
 He was not the boy's ideal soldier, and he had vague 
 wonders about him. Had he found the service hard and 
 distasteful ? 
 
 "Uncle Archie," he began, "did you like West 
 Point ? Or did you go because your father wanted you 
 to?" 
 
 "From both causes, I think," and the smile that 
 could be felt in his voice gave Randolph a sudden thrill. 
 "You see I was the son of a very enthusiastic soldier, 
 whose regard for his country had been fostered by help- 
 ing to save it from anarchy. There never was any idea 
 but that I should go to West Point. I never thought of 
 anything else." 
 
 " But if he had not wanted you to go ? " 
 
 " I can't imagine that. He must have had some dif- 
 ferent profession." 
 
 "And you liked it?" the boy assumed. 
 
 "Yes. I liked the spirit and enthusiasm. We were 
 all alive with it in those days. The training is pretty 
 severe, and boys who have a delightful home and an 
 abundance of indulgent love might get rather down- 
 hearted longing for it. I had been away at school, and 
 — well, my lad, even a peace soldier's life has a great 
 many hardships in it." 
 
 " Would you do it over again ? " 
 
 "Why, yes, my boy, though under the circumstances
 
 A BROAD, BRIGHT SPACE. 351 
 
 there would be no other course to follow for me. Cir- 
 cumstances carry great weight and when one's fancies 
 run in the same direction it is easy to decide. I was 
 proud of my father. He was a fine, courageous soldier, 
 who had done his duty nobly, and I wanted to be one." 
 
 "And my father is a splendid man and is doing his 
 duty nobly. Saving lives and caring for poor bodies is 
 a grand work. I am very proud of him and the fame he 
 has won. And yet I want to go to West Point and 
 have a soldier's training. There is something so inspirit- 
 ing in it." 
 
 "Ah, the desire lies that way, does it?" Uncle 
 Archie drew the lad more tenderly to him. Ah, if he 
 had such a son ! If Ray had brothers he could train 
 and be proud of, and the great want and sorrow of his 
 life came to him more forcibly than it had in years. It 
 had been hard to suffer for boyish generosity and inex- 
 perience. "And your father objects?" he suggested 
 after a pause. 
 
 " I think papa would consent. You see there is a 
 whole year before I could go. But mamma would take 
 it very hard." 
 
 "And you may change your mind." That was what 
 the others had said. " You know, I suppose, that if you 
 accept the proffer of the country for four years of train- 
 ing, you owe her in return some years of service. There 
 is nothing very exhilarating about it now. We may never 
 have another war — I pray God Ave may not. Then there 
 is only frontier and fort duty, and an occasional skirmish 
 with the Indians. Promotions are slow." 
 
 " I want the training, the sort of esprit du corps" said 
 the boy, spiritedly. " I do not want to study medicine. 
 If I can't do that, I shall choose civil engineering."
 
 352 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "Then the military training would stand you in good 
 stead, if you took that up afterward." 
 
 Uncle Archie wondered if he had any right to encour- 
 age the boy. Ah, if he were his, what pride he would 
 take in him. Something about him suggested his own 
 youth and all his high hopes. 
 
 " Uncle Archie," the lad's tone dropped to a lower, 
 hesitating key, " if you liked it so much, how could you 
 bear to give it up ? " 
 
 " There is a story connected with it, Randolph, that 
 you are too young to understand." The man's tone was 
 soft, regretful, tender, and the boy clung closer to him. 
 " Some day, if you are a soldier, I will tell it over to you, 
 and you will see that I could not well have done differ- 
 ently and kept my manliness. It was a great cross to 
 me. But I learned through it more about that other 
 spiritual warfare. I was not less a soldier because 1 did 
 not live in a tent or fort, and there were other enemies to 
 conquer. But my heart is still in the service. And if 
 the country had need of me, now that the other duty is 
 ended, I should go at once." 
 
 They walked on in silence for some time. 
 
 " I wish you'd tell me something about the life. We 
 drill at the institute and we have a few military regula- 
 tions." 
 
 The boy listened with avidity. True, he was young 
 and might outgrow his fancy, but if Uncle Archie had 
 seen the fire in his eyes and the flush coming and going 
 on his cheek, he could have discerned the true soldier 
 enthusiasm that would never be quenched, even if relin- 
 quished. The Carews had another boy — why not allow 
 this one to follow his bent. His own mother had not ob- 
 jected, he remembered, but she had been a soldier's wife.
 
 A BROAD, BRIGHT SPACE. 353 
 
 Bertram took possession of Gertrude. Sherburne was 
 annoyed. He had resolved on a good long explanatory 
 talk, but rack his brains as he might, he could find no 
 reasonable excuse for detaching the younger. So he and 
 Uncle Con sat on the step and talked over his plans. 
 The warm approval soothed his restlessness, and the keen 
 interest, the certainty Uncle Con felt of his succeeding 
 and reaching a high place, if he resolved in earnest and 
 worked to this end, cheered and inspirited him. 
 
 What a magnificent night it was. The wind had 
 blown up much cooler, and the stars shone with unwonted 
 brilliancy. Two or three birds were answering each 
 other at intervals and between the sweet silences a sort 
 of heavenly charm brooded over all. 
 
 It was late when they said good-night. But coming 
 down the next morning Sherburne found Gertrude alone, 
 cutting some roses to adorn the breakfast- table. 
 
 " I am early," she said, half in apology. " Con had 
 to do a little writing, and it was so lovely out here. O, 
 I can understand how all you people just adore Sherburne 
 House ! I almost wonder how Princess could waive her 
 right in such a home. I should have wanted to sink 
 gently and resignedly into old maidenhood, and wander 
 about these mysterious shades forever." 
 
 " Well — " almost moodily, " it might have been yours. 
 It is to be mine some day." 
 
 " Sherburne ! " with a note of warning. 
 
 " I am glad it didn't tempt you. No, I am not going 
 to sink into bathos, but since I've made up with Uncle 
 Con, and know him for the splendid, large-hearted and 
 generous fellow that he is, I must make my apology to 
 you. I shall feel more manly and have a greater respect 
 for myself when it is done. I think it was a sort of
 
 354 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 mid-winter madness — is there such a thing ? For I shall 
 have to admit that I was lost alike to honor and truth. 
 My accusations were monstrous! I can understand how 
 a girl could love Uncle Con without a thought of his 
 money, and he is worthy of the best love a woman has. 
 And looking at it in a calmer light, you did not promise 
 me anything. It was my overweening vanity that led me 
 to think I could win you against the charm and ex- 
 perience of a man of the world ' ' 
 
 "And whom I had loved unconsciously, without hope, 
 but quite enough to keep me from loving any other man," 
 she interrupted. 
 
 1 ' I did repeat my angry impressions to Princess, but I 
 am glad that I did not influence her. She was too far gone 
 in love's net, and I am thankful I was not fool enough to 
 bruit it any farther abroad. And now I want you to 
 forgive all the wild, unreasonable and untrue language I 
 used, and give me a chance to reinstate myself in your 
 esteem. Then I shall ask for your friendship." 
 
 " O Sherburne, you have our friendship, his and mine. 
 He was quite vexed once, but soon saw the matter in 
 its true light. I hope you will not be any worse for the 
 experience, nor lose faith in women," pausing while a 
 smile irradiated her eyes and hovered about her lips. 
 " Some day you will know what real love is ! " 
 
 He thought he knew now. He was secretly mortified 
 that no one would take his love in earnest. Perhaps he 
 had not deserved that it should be respected. 
 
 " So we will dismiss the subject," she resumed. " We 
 are all sorry it happened, and I am doubly sorry that any 
 carelessness on my part should have led you on. I did 
 try several times to disabuse you, but I was not sure your 
 fancy had any depth. And now I am going to give you
 
 A BROAD, BRIGHT SPACE. 355 
 
 a rose in token of amity, one of your own Sherburne 
 roses." 
 
 She pinned a dainty opening bud in his coat. He 
 wanted to kiss her hand — the children had fallen into the 
 habit of kissing her, even Bertram, but a feeling of re- 
 spect restrained him. 
 
 Then she turned and went in with her airy, graceful 
 step. Yes, he loved her still, but he accepted the de- 
 crees of fate. 
 
 She made the way easy for him with a charming 
 friendliness. There was no one among the girls quite 
 like her. And he wondered whether Uncle Con really 
 appreciated the prize he had gained. 
 
 It was too warm for much pleasuring except the early 
 morning drive, and the late afternoon when the wind 
 blew up and gave them lovely evenings. They heard 
 from the party, a telegram from papa, to say the whole 
 colony were on board and the tide would be right in two 
 hours, and that he should expect them to send letters by 
 the next steamer. 
 
 Then Uncle Con had to go up to the city. They be- 
 sought him to let Gertrude stay, but he pictured his 
 solitariness in such heartrending terms, and his utter in- 
 ability to even cook an egg or toast a piece of bread, and 
 he knew the baker would charge him ten cents for a five 
 cent loaf, and the butcher cheat him, and the candlestick 
 maker refuse him any light. 
 
 "But you burn gas," said small Lawrence. "And 
 isn't there any cook? Why, we could lend you one." 
 
 " Well, really, to tell you the truth I am afraid you 
 will eat up Aunt Gertrude if I leave her behind. She's 
 awfully sweet." They all promised solemnly that they 
 would not, but he could not be convinced.
 
 356 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 Mrs. Stanwood was going up to the city to visit at the 
 charming rectory on Long Island, with its host of attract- 
 ive grandchildren, and the pretty rural home of her son, 
 Winthrop, in which there was only baby Julia. Uncle 
 Con was willing to take charge of her, as Archie's 
 week of leave had expired and he was due at the office. 
 They begged so for Mrs. Kenneth to stay that she finally 
 assented. 
 
 And then came the first batch of letters from the trav- 
 elers, written mostly on shipboard. The passage had 
 proved delightful with only one stormy day and that not 
 very severe. Mamma had been very sick two days, 
 Princess only slightly so, the professor not at all, and 
 papa not very brilliant for several days, but not really ill. 
 They would have a week or two in London and then go 
 to Germany, with the Amorys. 
 
 There was almost a holiday with the children. They 
 ran free in the morning, often driving over to Beaumanoir 
 or to Aunt Fanny's. Afterward two hours in the large 
 airy schoolroom, then music and play or any reading 
 they chose. Delia, as they called her, had developed a 
 decided talent for sketching and was very fond of it. 
 Milly had a very sweet voice and went caroling about 
 the place like a bird. The governess and Ruth Ensign 
 fraternized most agreeably. 
 
 The boys soon grew as fond of Mrs. Kenneth as the 
 girls had been, and she was quite charmed and enter- 
 tained with the diversity of character. Bertram and 
 Randolph were great chums, and though the latter was 
 not an enthusiastic naturalist, he was very good-humored 
 and often assisted with specimens. 
 
 Ned and Sherburne grew into a delightful friendship. 
 It had begun during the last year in Germany, but Ian-
 
 A BROAD, BRIGHT SPACE. 357 
 
 guished through the winter. Now they had renewed it 
 and were taking much interest in each other's plans, 
 growing into almost brotherly accord. Ned was very 
 generous in his admiration of his handsome, and really 
 brilliant cousin. They went up to Washington together 
 for a few days, and Ned was pleased with the verdict of 
 the legal firm with which his uncle was connected. 
 
 "I really do not see why you should have taken a 
 fancy to medicine when the advantages of the law were 
 right before you," he said, rather wonderingly to Sher- 
 burne. 
 
 " I think it queer, now," and the other laughed, lightly. 
 "I'd had a fancy all along that law was dull and prosy 
 and had no really fine points in it ; that its practice was 
 rather corrupting to one's moral tone." 
 
 "It hasn't corrupted your father very much. I think 
 Uncle Len a really splendid man." 
 
 "He is all that," returned his son, warmly. "I sup- 
 pose children always love an indulgent father, but it takes 
 experience and a certain knowledge to truly appreciate. 
 To tell the truth his illness roused a new feeling within 
 me. Not altogether the sense of passionate despair at 
 the prospect of his loss, but a realization of what he was 
 to mamma and all of us, and a sense of my own duty as 
 a son. I had been a careless sort of fellow, taking things 
 largely for granted, and not considering my share in the 
 responsibility, ready to receive but not very ready to give 
 except for my own pleasure. And now it looks different 
 to me. Life is a greater gift than I have heretofore con- 
 sidered it. I want to make a wise use of it. And I 
 must begin at home." 
 
 Ned was studying him with earnest, admiring eyes. 
 
 " Yes," he returned, thoughtfully. " We are building
 
 358 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 now for all the rest of life, for another world as well. I 
 can't believe that all the knowledge garnered here will 
 drop out or be of no account in another world. What- 
 ever elevates the human mind, every noble deed, every 
 kindly and generous one, must reach up to the divine 
 life. But if it was only in this life it would be a better 
 thing to strive for the upbuilding of those around us, 
 than to be indifferent to our fellow -creatures." 
 
 "And to those who love us," Sherburne said, softly. 
 He was indeed trying. And it was strange to him to 
 discern so much sweetness in the common duties, to ex- 
 perience a new satisfaction in studying the wants and 
 pleasures of the household, and ministering to them. It 
 was not always agreeable to put up his book and take an 
 interest in Bertram's doings, or allow Larry to cling to 
 him and listen to childish wants and pleasures. But he 
 had accepted the more serious aspect of life and this was 
 part of the discipline.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE LESSONS OF LIFE. 
 
 44 rVfO, you cannot go with us, Larry. That is the 
 ■^^ last word. There is no use teasing." 
 
 "You're a mean old thing, Sher Beaumanoir ! " and 
 the child gave a vicious kick in the gravel path, sending 
 the dust flying. " I can't stay home all alone. Bert's 
 going." 
 
 "But Bertram is a big fellow and can walk miles and 
 miles. You would get tired to death. Besides, as I 
 said, it would be no real fun to you." 
 
 Sherburne was provoked at himself for reiterating rea- 
 sons when he had said he would not. He turned away, 
 but his little brother made a sudden spring and twined 
 his arms so tightly about the elder's limbs that it nearly 
 toppled him over. 
 
 "Lawrence ! " The tone was stern now as he undid 
 the small clinging hands. " I shall shut you up in the 
 schoolroom for the next hour." 
 
 Larry began to struggle and cry. 
 
 " But I am all alone, and what can I do? There's no 
 one to play with ! " 
 
 "You can go down to Aunt Fanny's. All the girls 
 are there." 
 
 " I don't want to play with girls." 
 
 "But there's Phil and Cecil." 
 
 "Them little shavers!" with the most sublime dis- 
 dain, and utter disregard of his pronoun. Sherburne 
 could not help smiling at the air. 
 
 " 359
 
 360 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "Then go over to grandpapa's. He will be glad to 
 see you." 
 
 " I don't want to," sullenly. 
 
 » Well — shall I shut you up in the schoolroom ?" 
 
 " You're just mean and hateful ! And I'll tell papa 
 you wouldn't do anything for me, but just went off to 
 have fun all the time." 
 
 < ' That would not be true, Larry, and I think you love 
 papa too well to tell him a falsehood, even if you do not 
 love me." 
 
 " No, I don't love you one bit." 
 
 The cherry lips were set firmly and the eyes had a 
 lowering expression. Sherburne had grown really fond 
 of his little brother, who was bright, smart and amusing, 
 but wilful. 
 
 "I am dreadfully sorry about that." There was no 
 use talking to the child when you could make no impres- 
 sion upon him. So he turned away, hating to leave him 
 alone, but there was nothing else in the child's present 
 mood. 
 
 The others were coming around. Jasper, a young 
 colored factotum, had a hamper and some fishing tackle ; 
 Bertram had two nets and a box slung over his shoulder. 
 
 Larry started off presently. He could run like a deer, 
 and in a few moments had disappeared. 
 
 It was a half cloudy morning, not at all prefiguring 
 rain, but with a soft, grey under-roof of cloud that moved 
 about, Ned said, " like a spirit on the face of the waters." 
 So after a little they were ready to start on their day's out- 
 ing. Ned had a book under his arm, he was rarely with- 
 out one. Randolph looked eager for enjoyment, he was 
 getting to be quite a country boy, but he couldn't under- 
 stand Bertram's interest in "bugs and things," and his
 
 THE LESSONS OF LIFE. 361 
 
 delight was to have Sherburne declaim from the Latin 
 orations, or repeat striking passages of the Greek poets. 
 
 Lawrence was not in sight. After giving some direc- 
 tions to Maum Chloe, since the governess had gone home 
 on a vacation, and feeling confident the child would 
 finally go to Aunt Fanny's, they took up their line of 
 march. 
 
 They had gone a mile perhaps when Bertram made a 
 plunge in a wayside thicket to capture a moth. There 
 was a trodden path much frequented by the negroes as a 
 short cut, coming out on the road. 
 
 " Hillo ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 Lawrence gave a short, triumphant laugh and looked 
 the very picture of elation. 
 
 " I can walk well enough," he began. "I've walked 
 miles and miles, and I can go along just as well as not." 
 
 "O Lawrence," said Ned, persuasively, " you would 
 get tired to death. And there is nothing to amuse a lit- 
 tle boy. See here, to-morrow we'll drive over to Mason's 
 creek, and you shall row the boat." 
 
 Sherburne was vexed at the evasion. He seized his 
 little brother by the arm and drew him out in the road. 
 
 " Go on, boys," he said, turning the child around and 
 walking back rapidly. Lawrence gave a sulky kick but 
 missed his brother's leg, and though he tried to lag, the 
 elder hurried him along by his superior strength. 
 
 " Where are you going? " he asked, curiosity as to his 
 fate getting the better of him. 
 
 "I am going back home with you and shall lock you 
 up in the schoolroom," said the elder, resolutely. 
 
 " I will climb out of the window," defiantly. 
 
 "I'll put old Crissy in to watch you." 
 
 Old Crissy was a sharp negress, big and strong, and
 
 362 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 handy with a strap, and was famous for keeping the 
 younger generation of darkies in order. 
 
 "She wouldn't dare strike me. I'd just write to 
 papa 
 
 "You deserve a thrashing, you little rascal! But if 
 she didn't thrash you she could keep you from climbing 
 out of the window." 
 
 That was true enough. Larry's dark eyes blazed at 
 being outgeneraled. " I just hate you ! " he cried, with 
 anger. 
 
 Sherburne made no reply but hurried on. To be shut 
 up with old Crissy did not look inviting, and the child 
 began to consider. 
 
 " See here, Slier," he cried, at length, still in a furious 
 temper, "don't have me locked up! I won't follow 
 you, honest and true. I'll — I'll stay. But I don't want 
 — to be locked up," — crying in good earnest. 
 
 Sherburne paid no attention. 
 
 "O Sher, please don't," he entreated. " I won't do 
 anything but just play round, unless I go to Aunt 
 Fanny's. Yes, I'll go there." 
 
 "Will you, truly?" Sherburne stopped and looked 
 his little brother over with much severity in his aspect. 
 
 " Yes, I will — I just will," he pleaded. 
 
 "Very well, then. And if you shouldn't, Larry, I'll 
 punish you severely myself, to-morrow — do you hear ? ' ' 
 
 The boy nodded. Sherburne released his arm, and 
 watched him a moment as he trudged on slowly without 
 glancing around. 
 
 "Be a good boy," he sang out, resuming his own 
 journey. 
 
 They had a grand day fishing, lying about in the 
 shade arguing several points which led to a rather heated
 
 THE LESSONS OF LIFE. 363 
 
 interest, but no anger. Bertram captured a number of new 
 specimens. Never had lunch tasted better, and never 
 had there been a finer day for their purpose. They took 
 a nap on the bed of dry pine needles, and then, refreshed, 
 started slowly homeward. Ned was enjoying life as he 
 never had before, "crawling out of his shell," Sher- 
 burne told him. 
 
 "Sher, you will make a great success in life, I know. 
 You inspire people. I never gave you credit for half 
 your virtues. I used to think it a great pity you were so 
 pleasure-loving, but there is a good deal beside that in 
 you, and you make the pleasures exhilarating and attract- 
 ive. All work and no play does make Jack a dull boy. 
 I've found out that." 
 
 "Thank you," and Sherburne laughed joyously. 
 "You see I always acquired everything easily and had 
 lots of time to spend in fooling, and I suppose it did give 
 me the appearance of a careless fellow. And now I am 
 in real earnest, but I can't turn hermit for all that. I 
 shall always like a bit of fun." 
 
 The girls had taken supper at Aunt Fanny's, and were 
 sitting on the steps, but they sprang up and greeted the 
 boys with a glad shout. 
 
 "We're so lonesome ! O Sher, don't you wish Ruth 
 and Ray were back here, and Mrs. Kenneth, to tell us 
 stories? We've sat here and watched and watched." 
 
 Sherburne laughed as he kissed both girls. 
 
 " O Sher," cried Milly, "wouldn't it be just awful to 
 be orphans and have no father or mother ! To be sure, 
 Ruth hasn't any, but she has Mrs. Kenneth, and Ray 
 has Aunt Julia " 
 
 Yes, they did miss the heads of the household very 
 much.
 
 364 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " Where is the little lad ? " he asked. 
 
 " O, didn't he go with you?" returned Millicent. 
 " He did not come over to Aunt Fanny's and the boys 
 were so sorry." 
 
 Sherburne started. Perhaps he had gone to grand- 
 papa's, where he was a great favorite. Supper was all 
 ready, and they were hungry as bears. But the elder 
 brother rose when the serving was done. 
 
 " Brad," he said to the black boy, "get out one of the 
 horses and go over to Beaumanoir. If Larry is all right 
 and wants to stay, let him. But I'd like to know." 
 
 "Yes, Mas'r." 
 
 They went on with their supper. Sherburne felt 
 strangely annoyed and a little apprehensive. And he 
 was startled when Brad came tearing back. 
 
 "He ain't bin dar, Mas'r Sherburne. W'y we all 
 tought he gone wid you. Where d' s'pose he be ? Juno, 
 she been whinin' round." 
 
 " What is it ? " asked Ned. " Larry ? He must have 
 wandered off somewhere." 
 
 " Dat boy know ebery inch er groun' fer miles an' 
 miles. But he's awful reckless." 
 
 "Get out the dogs and the lanterns. Let us go at 
 once and hunt him up," exclaimed Sherburne in alarm. 
 
 Juno whined and sprang from one to the other. Caesar 
 was quieter, but moved his tail with a dawning sense of 
 responsibility. They rushed on ahead and were soon 
 lost to sight as well as sound. 
 
 "Something has happened to him," began Bertram, 
 gravely. " He wouldn't have stayed out in the woods all 
 day with nothing to eat." 
 
 " He could have gone in some cabin. It wouldn't 
 have been the first time."
 
 THE LESSONS OF LIFE. 365 
 
 "We have spoiled him some way," subjoined Ber- 
 tram, seriously. "He won't mind one of us, and he 
 always did obey mamma." 
 
 Sherburne felt quite helpless on the subject of parental 
 authority. The Beaumanoirs had been trained in truth- 
 telling and promise-keeping, and Lawrence had said 
 " Honest and true. " 
 
 They went stumbling on, calling now and then to the 
 boy and to the dogs. They heard an occasional bay. 
 Should they take this path or that ? They had no heart 
 for any but the briefest sentences. 
 
 Then Caesar came rushing with a swish through the 
 darkness. Bertram held up the lantern and the eager 
 fiery eyes blinked. 
 
 "Good dog, good Caesar, what is it? " 
 
 He ran a few steps, barking loudly, then turned wist- 
 fully and ran on again. They followed rapidly on 
 through the woods that had been partly cleared. 
 
 Juno was keeping watch over something and gave low, 
 melancholy howls. When they reached the spot Sher- 
 burne stooped and picked up his little brother, pallid and 
 cold. 
 
 "O, he isn't dead ! " cried Bertram. 
 
 " Let us get back as quickly as possible." Then he 
 tried to think what would be best. " Brad, run on ahead 
 and get out the big carriage. Come down the road and 
 meet us. We had better get over to Doctor Underwood's 
 with all speed." 
 
 " Let me carry him," said Ned, presently. " You are 
 tired and we can get along faster." 
 
 It was true. Sherburne settled the limp body on his 
 cousin's shoulder, and they almost ran. The carriage 
 was waiting.
 
 366 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 " We shall not all be needed," exclaimed Sherburne. 
 " Bert, you and Randolph go home and comfort the 
 girls. We will send Brad back with a message as soon 
 as there is any word." 
 
 The boys went reluctantly. The others entered the 
 carriage with their burthen, and drove swiftly to their 
 haven. 
 
 "O," cried Aunt Fanny, "the doctor went to the 
 hospital not more than ten minutes ago. Little Larry — 
 what could have happened ! Drive right over. He has a 
 rather serious case and will be gone half an hour or so. 
 Yes, go at once." 
 
 In five minutes they were there and Doctor Under- 
 wood had taken the apparently lifeless body to one of the 
 wards. Miss Eunis came and disrobed it. There was 
 a broken leg, how much more they could not tell, or 
 whether, at first, there was any life left in him. Sher- 
 burne paced up and down in a state of agonizing ap- 
 prehension. Ned knew any attempt at comfort was 
 useless and wisely kept quiet. 
 
 It seemed hours before Doctor Underwood came in, 
 with a grave face. 
 
 " He is not dead," he said, but from present indica- 
 tions he has been unconscious a long while. He has a 
 broken leg, a very clean break, which will cause no 
 trouble and it is set. Tell me how it happened." 
 
 Sherburne repeated the day's events in a rather un- 
 steady tone. 
 
 "Well — I don't see that you were to blame," an- 
 nounced his uncle, anxious to relieve the dreadful sense 
 of responsibility he read in the young face. "Maybe 
 it would have been better if you had switched him all the 
 way home. Boys are trying conglomerates. Now — both
 
 THE LESSONS OF LIFE. 367 
 
 of you get back to Sherburne House as soon as you can. 
 Stop and tell Aunt Fanny I shall stay here all night. 
 Try and get some sleep. You can't help nor hinder." 
 
 "But — " began Sherburne, eagerly. 
 
 "You can't do me an atom of good; you will only be 
 a bother. Come over as soon as you like in the morn- 
 ing. Meanwhile — don't do anything until we know 
 what we have to do." 
 
 "Not send for " 
 
 " He will be dead or better before Carew could get 
 here," said the doctor, testily. "And your father and 
 mother can't fly over. I am capable of doing all that 
 can be done, and I have trained watchers and helpers. 
 There — go. I can't spend any more time talking." 
 
 Thus dismissed in Doctor Underwood's peremptory 
 fashion, they returned to the carriage. Aunt Fanny was 
 more amenable and sympathized warmly with them. 
 
 " If anything can be done the doctor is equal to it," 
 said she, with wifely pride and confidence. 
 
 But if nothing could be done ! 
 
 They drove silently homeward. It was past mid- 
 night. The girls had gone to bed and cried themselves 
 to sleep in awesome terror. The boys still sat on the 
 porch, and had no heart to retire. 
 
 He could have prevented all this by taking the child 
 with him. It would have been a nuisance, of course, for 
 all of them would have had to give up a little of their 
 enjoyment for his entertainment, and already Sherburne 
 had devoted days to the children's pleasure. Inexpe- 
 rience could not tell when to indulge and when to deny 
 likewise motherhood. But would not the days and nights 
 of anxiety more than counterbalance the one day's grati- 
 fication ? It was a grave question.
 
 368 TH /•: HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 There was little sleep for him. Soon after dawn he 
 mounted his horse and almost flew over to the pretty 
 hospital, which was the fruition of many years' dreamii-g 
 on the part of its founder. 
 
 Doctor Underwood had been lying half asleep on a 
 couch. The horse's gallop startled him. He ruffled up 
 his hair with his hands and came out. 
 
 " You're early," in a brief, almost curt tone. 
 
 " I wanted to know " 
 
 "There isn't anything to know. I am not omniscient. 
 The child breathes slowly, and is unconscious. He 
 may lie this way for days. We shall do our best and 
 hope." 
 
 "Then you do think — " in a glad, relieved tone. 
 
 "I do not think at all except to do what is best. I 
 simply hope that all will go well, since he was not dead 
 last night. Children have wonderful recuperative pow- 
 ers, and nature understands her work pretty well." 
 
 " Ought I to send — to papa ? " 
 
 "No, Sherburne, I am going to take this responsibil- 
 ity. You could not do any good by sending for them. 
 Before they could get here the child would be dead or on 
 the mend. Your father is improving rapidly, and will 
 be better during the next ten years for this chance of re- 
 laxation. Your mother needed it as well. Now let them 
 enjoy it. If they have to sup sorrow, let it be at the very 
 last, when the thing is inevitable." 
 
 " But if they should blame me — O, I know mamma 
 would, if I kept it from her until it was too late." 
 
 " Don't you see it would be too late anyhow? " said 
 the doctor, in a tone of irritation. " Ten days or a fort- 
 night ! And to give them such a shock if it turns out to 
 be needless ! No, take my advice."
 
 THE LESSONS OF LIFE. 369 
 
 "And I could have helped it all ! If I had taken him 
 with me ! " 
 
 "Sherburne, don't be such a girl ! " cried the other, 
 testily. " Girls and women are always bemoaning if 
 they had done this or that, and seeing a hundred things 
 that after all would not have amounted to a row of 
 crooked pins. When a thing is done, why it is done. 
 All the bewailing can't alter. We may learn some wis- 
 dom for the future. But do you think you or any one 
 can watch Lawrence every moment of his life until he 
 reaches manhood ? Were you watched that way ? " 
 
 No, it would not be possible. 
 
 " You four fellows had the right to go off pleasuring 
 for a day. I can't see but that you took every precau- 
 tion with Larry. He promised to go back to the house, 
 and he did not. Even if you had gone to the porch with 
 him he might have strayed off afterward. These are the 
 things we have to leave to an overruling Providence. 
 There was a moment of carelessness on the child's part, 
 and God did not work a special miracle at that moment. 
 I don't know as we could demand it, though I think He 
 does often interpose, and we scarcely remark it. Don't 
 be so strenuous and self-accusing, but just go on and leave 
 it in God's hands." 
 
 "You are very comforting," Sherburne said, brokenly. 
 
 " Then take my advice and act upon it, and go about 
 your business as if you had some faith in me, and in the 
 overruling Power. Let us wait a few days and see." 
 
 "Could I just take one glimpse of him," Sherburne 
 asked, tremulously. 
 
 "O yes. What a reviving air there is this morning. 
 It makes one wish the morning and evening could be all 
 there was of the day. Yes, come in."
 
 3/-o THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Lawrence lay on the white cot as if he were already 
 dead. How beautiful he was, like a bit of sculptured 
 marble. The golden brown curls were soft and shining, 
 the brows perfect in their penciling, the long bronze 
 lashes making shadows on the white cheeks, the lips 
 sweet and smiling, and one might have thought the child 
 asleep but for the deadly pallor. Sherburne wondered 
 at his beauty as if he had never seen it before. 
 
 " Thank you," he said, softly, but his eyes were full of 
 tears. " And for all your care " 
 
 "That's my business," was the curt reply. 
 
 The household were bitterly disappointed that he did 
 not bring hope, and the servants lamented as if the child 
 was already dead. 
 
 But there were letters from abroad. One to Delia 
 from Princess, who seemed to be having a very grand 
 time in London, and whose vivid descriptions made it al- 
 most as good as seeing for one's self. And mamma's 
 lovely letter that came in nearly every steamer. 
 
 Both girls promised solemnly not to say a word about 
 Larry in their replies. But the zest had gone out of the 
 household. They lounged around and read a little, and 
 the piano was untouched, the merry voices no longer 
 rang in song or jest. 
 
 "If he was only here where we could see him," 
 moaned Milly. "But uncle doctor is very cross about 
 it. O Sherburne, tell us again how he looked. Can't 
 he speak or anything ? " 
 
 Several times a day they heard. The word was al- 
 ways the same — no change. 
 
 And yet the duties of life went on. Sherburne discussed 
 with Ned the two offers the latter had, one at a western 
 college, the other in New York at a little less salary.
 
 THE LESSONS OF LIFE. 371 
 
 "But you see I could do considerable beside in the 
 city. There are always students to coach, and one can 
 get up classes in language. And this year I do mean to 
 be a little more social. Aunt Millicent's home is so 
 charming. And do you know those evenings at Mrs. 
 Townsend's were just fascinating. I didn't go to many 
 of them, but I enjoyed them very much. And your Un- 
 cle Con and his bright agreeable wife. Yes, I think I 
 prefer the city." 
 
 "O do stay," rejoined Sherburne. "Not that I shall 
 be there, but you seem nearer. And now that we have 
 begun such a good, solid friendship, we ought to go 
 on." 
 
 "And I can run down to Washington now and then. 
 Well, I will write and give up the western proffer." 
 
 Randolph Carew found a great deal to entertain him- 
 self with. He liked Mr. Armitage and he used to haunt 
 the old house. The neighborhood about Ardmore related 
 incidents concerning his grandfather. He became inter- 
 ested in the hospital, and he found a youngish man who 
 had served in the frontier army under General Custer, 
 and though lame and an invalid, was still full of the fire 
 and the spirit of military life. 
 
 Sherburne went to church on Sunday and joined 
 heartily in the prayer for the sick child. How sweet, 
 solemn and near it seemed ! " Like as a father pitieth his 
 children." He could just see how his own father would 
 gather Lawrence in his arms. 
 
 They were all to go to Beaumanoir to dine with grand- 
 papa. Doctor Underwood's man touched Sherburne on 
 the arm as he was coming out and said, 
 
 "If you please sah, the doctor want you at de hos- 
 pital."
 
 372 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Sherburne went with a heart full of fear, but the first 
 glance at the doctor's face reassured him. 
 
 "He has spoken," the elder man said, in a tone he 
 strove to make as commonplace as possible. " He has 
 asked for you. I want you to sit here by him until he 
 wakes again, then look at him steadily, and answer, but 
 do not touch him or agitate him in any way." 
 
 Sherburne was struck with the positive improvement. 
 The child was still pale but it was not the deathlike 
 pallor, and there was a shade of color in his lips while 
 his breathing was perceptible. 
 
 Sitting there, Sherburne almost went back to his fancy 
 for medicine. A physician seemed to him the incarna- 
 tion of power and skill and patience. He thought too, 
 of his father, and those hours of agonized watching. 
 
 The boy stirred and opened his eyes. Sherburne had 
 much ado not to clasp him in his arms. So long and 
 steadily he looked the elder began almost to fear. 
 
 "Sherburne — "how weak and tremulous the little 
 voice was. " I want to tell you — I forget — I'm so tired." 
 
 Then he dropped asleep again. 
 
 Sherburne told this over to his uncle and pleaded to 
 remain. 
 
 "Go to Aunt Fanny's and get some dinner, then you 
 may stay all the afternoon." 
 
 Sherburne could only press his hand. 
 
 Dr. Underwood felt for the thread of a pulse, and 
 looking at the small face was not at all sure the danger 
 line had passed. 
 
 Sherburne resumed his watching presently. He had 
 Keeble's Lyra Innocentium in his pocket, Princess' favor- 
 ite, and he had picked it up from her table that morning. 
 How many beautiful hymns there were !
 
 THE LESSONS OF LIFE. 373 
 
 Lawrence did not speak again. Several times he 
 moved uneasily and sighed, and at dusk the doctor dis- 
 missed the elder. But he could not help a light and 
 hopeful feeling pervading his very soul. 
 
 The next morning there was an improvement. And 
 now he wanted Sherburne again, and a faint gleam of 
 pleasure shone in the eyes so like his mother's. 
 
 " Sherburne," he said, a day or two after, " won't you 
 take me in your strong arms? I'm so tired lying here." 
 
 "Lift him carefully," subjoined Doctor Underwood. 
 
 The arms were clasped about his neck and the head 
 dropped on his shoulder with a contented sigh. The 
 strong arms held him firmly, gently. 
 
 "What is the matter with my leg ? It's so stiff." 
 
 It was in the plaster cast. " You have broken it, 
 dear," said the voice, gently. 
 
 " O, is that it? I can't seem to think " 
 
 " Never mind. Do not bother about thinking. You 
 can do that when you get well." 
 
 " Can't you take me home ? " in a whisper. 
 
 " Not until your leg gets well. Uncle doctor has to 
 care for it." 
 
 " O — next week, perhaps." 
 
 "Yes, perhaps then." 
 
 After a while he begged to be laid down again, and 
 then to be read to, and went fast asleep. 
 
 Ned thought it his duty to go to Baltimore and visit 
 his father and took advantage of Sherburne being thus 
 occupied. There was a reasonable hope that Lawrence 
 would pull through with careful treatment, but he had 
 not begun to remember much of anything. If there 
 were no internal injuries and his brain was all right — 
 serious provisos.
 
 374 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 Princess and her husband had gone over to Paris 
 where they met Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, and were coming 
 home together, would reach New York early in Septem- 
 ber. The judge and his wife would be home a week or 
 ten days afterward, and the Amory party not until October. 
 Then Randolph was sent for and the two boys looked 
 forward to the renewal of friendship a few weeks later. 
 The governess returned to Sherburne House, and though 
 actual lessons did not begin, the girls were glad to have 
 her for company. Laura Underwood was to study with 
 them this winter. 
 
 Sherburne spent a good part of every day in the hos- 
 pital. There was a young medical student, a male nurse, 
 Miss Eunis and a young colored girl she had in training. 
 He began to like Miss Eunis very much. She was two 
 or three and thirty, and knew almost as much as a doc- 
 tor. 
 
 " Indeed," she said, " if Doctor Underwood gave up 
 the hospital, I should go to New York and study for a 
 degree, though I like the nursing best." 
 
 He was very much startled to learn from her that there 
 had been grave doubts as to the little boy's entire recov- 
 ery. The doctor had been afraid of some injury to the 
 brain with the serious concussion. 
 
 "Sher," he began, one day when he was lying in his 
 brother's arms, and the familiar abbreviation sounded so 
 good, "Sher, what happened? How did my leg get 
 broken. I can't seem to get things straight." 
 
 "We think you must have fallen from a tree. You 
 were coming home you know. You wanted to go with 
 us big fellows " 
 
 Larry drew a long breath and the color fluttered over 
 his pale face. Then after a long silence
 
 THE LESSONS OF LIFE. 375 
 
 " Yes, I remember now. I — oh, Slier, I didn't come 
 home — not right away. But I didn't mean to go back. 
 I promised you. And I did climb up a tree. I was 
 tired and hungry and it was so warm. And I suppose I 
 fell out. How did you find me ? " 
 
 Sherburne related the story. "You see if we could 
 have found you right away it would not have been so bad." 
 
 "And if you had not found me at all ! O Sher! " 
 He crept closer and put his soft little hand under his 
 brother's chin with a caressing movement. "If I had 
 stayed out there all night would I have been dead by 
 morning ? And then I never could have seen mamma 
 again, nor, — nor any one." 
 
 The child began to cry softly. 
 
 " O, Juno would have found you," said Sherburne, in 
 a comforting tone. 
 
 There was another long silence. 
 
 " Sher," in a tremulous whisper, " I was very bad that 
 day — wasn't I? " 
 
 "Rather," but the tone had a smile in it as well as 
 the face. 
 
 " Very bad. And I suppose God let me break my leg 
 to make me remember that when one promises to do a 
 thing, they must do it at once. That is what papa says. 
 Was it long ago ? " 
 
 "Three weeks." 
 
 " And how many weeks before I will be well ? " 
 
 "About three more." 
 
 "Sher — I'm awful sorry. You oughtn't be so good 
 to me." 
 
 "Yes, I ought to be good to you. I am the oldest and 
 the wisest, I hope. And I ought to set you an example, 
 so that you will be kind and true and "
 
 376 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 "And obedient. what did papa say?" 
 
 " Papa doesn't know. We didn't want to spoil their 
 delightful journey." 
 
 "Sherburne," in a soft, solemn tone, "I think I will 
 never be so naughty to you again. Will you please for- 
 give me and let me try ? " 
 
 The big boy and the little boy sealed their contract with 
 a kiss.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 IN THE OLD HOUSE. 
 
 1I7"HAT a year it had been for Sherburne Beauman- 
 
 ^ oir ! It came over him this September evening 
 as he sat on the porch with the cablegram in his hand 
 that said the travelers had just started and that the pro- 
 fessor and Mrs. Kenneth would be in shortly. Ned had 
 begged that Bertram and the two girls would come to 
 Baltimore for a week. His stepmother would be glad to 
 see them and give them a warm welcome. 
 
 Then Lawrence had come home amid enthusiastic 
 greetings, almost as if he had been raised from the dead. 
 He was allowed to walk with a crutch and was a very 
 happy boy. His memory had returned and there was no 
 fear of any brain trouble, but his back seemed a little 
 weak, and the doctor advised carefulness for some time 
 to come. He had always adored his big brother, as 
 small boys are apt to do, but there was a new tenderness 
 between them, and the elder brother was realizing more 
 thoroughly all that that term meant. 
 
 Doctor Underwood was very proud of his success. 
 Sherburne said laughingly one day, "that he was almost 
 persuaded back to medicine again ; it had such large pos- 
 sibilities." 
 
 "No, don't," returned the doctor. "It would be a 
 lifelong disappointment to you father." 
 
 He wondered sometimes if he had any mind at all ! 
 He had wavered so between the two, he had been crazily 
 
 377
 
 378 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 in love with Gertrude Maurice when he might have seen 
 from the very beginning that it was unwise, and that she 
 had only a friendly regard for him. He was humiliated 
 by his own folly and self-love. 
 
 And yet the gold came out of the mines in a crude 
 state and this mineral and that had to be separated from 
 it by different processes and the dross purged from it, and 
 presently you came to the true and perfect material. It 
 was not all at once. He must have needed the discipline 
 to draw away the dross and foolishness. 
 
 He would not disappoint his father. In fact he had 
 been doing some good solid reading this summer, and he 
 would go in the office in the fall and try his very best. 
 He had never tried much in any respect, things had 
 come so easy to him. If where much was given much 
 was to be required, he needed to bestir himself. 
 
 For some days Lawrence had been his only companion. 
 It touched him to see the child make his small efforts at 
 self-control, and not interrupt him when he was busy, and 
 wait patiently until he was at liberty. It was really very 
 sweet and touching. He had often delighted in teasing 
 the small boy to see him fly in a temper, but he had 
 come to care too much for him. And when he held 
 Lawrence in his arms as he did now for an hour or two 
 before bedtime, enjoying the fragrant out of doors and 
 listening to the myriads of insects, sometimes singing a 
 little song himself, the child would say as he clung to 
 him. 
 
 "O, how awful sweet you are, Sherburne." 
 
 Then there was Bertram to whom he could be an elder 
 brother, steady, studious Bertram who would not be 
 likely to rush into vagaries as he had done, but who might 
 enjoy sympathy, affection and sometimes counsel. And
 
 IN THE OLD HOUSE. 379 
 
 there was the sonship, the duties to his parents, the love 
 for their declining years when it came to that. Yes there 
 was plenty of real work in the world, and now he felt 
 glad and eager to take up his share. 
 
 The children had a delightful visit. Why they never 
 knew Uncle Edward was so nice, only he wasn't funny 
 and bright like papa, and Aunt Bessy was just splendid ! 
 Cousin Ned and Len had taken them everywhere, and it 
 had all been just wonderful. 
 
 But the most magnificent thing of all would be to go 
 up to New York and meet the travelers and escort them 
 home. Sherburne thought they could go, and Bertram 
 must to enter his classes. So Sherburne telegraphed the 
 plan to the Kenneths that they might not come down and 
 miss everybody. 
 
 Aunt Millicent took them in. Hope was a big girl 
 already, and Carew measured every month to see how 
 much he gained on papa. Margaret Phillips and her 
 husband, Mrs. Kenneth and Ruth had gone to the new 
 home and had already welcomed the professor and his 
 wife, much to the dissatisfaction of Uncle Con. 
 
 Margaret said her uncle had grown really stout and 
 handsome, but that it was quite ridiculous to think of 
 calling Princess aunt, when she was years the oldest. 
 Princess had gained a curious bit of dignity that was very 
 becoming, and she looked so quaintly pretty in her Paris 
 gowns, that had been fitted to her style, rather than 
 transforming her to some other style and destroying her 
 individuality. 
 
 There had been one amusing attempt at changing her 
 name. Now that she was married they though^ it would 
 be a good time to begin calling her Aurelia. '|gut the 
 professor forgot and made such funny work of it, and she
 
 380 THE HEIR OF SHERBURNE. 
 
 was so amazed that she couldn't remember, so one day 
 when they both laughed at the blunder, he kissed her and 
 said 
 
 " My darling, it was the name I first knew you by, and 
 you have always been my princess. A queen would have 
 been too grand for me, but I dared to aspire to the next 
 round of royalty. And so we will go back to the dear 
 name that suits you so well." 
 
 " And there is no confusion to it," returned Princess, 
 merrily. "There are so many Millys and Dells and 
 Violets." 
 
 "And only one Princess, my Princess." 
 
 They had done a good deal of love making on their 
 wedding journey to make up for the lack of it before- 
 hand. 
 
 Mrs. Kenneth declared that she was one of the hap- 
 piest women in the world with three girls that she could 
 claim as her very own. 
 
 And Larry found that his broken leg made him quite a 
 hero. They did not tell the saddest side of the accident. 
 
 As for the Carews they had all come home well and 
 happy. New York was busy and bustling, and work had 
 begun in earnest. Boys and girls were off at school, and 
 there were the duties of another year stretching out be- 
 fore them. 
 
 Judge Beaumanoir returned in the best of health and 
 spirits, quite eager for the coming opportunities. He 
 was beginning to show the advance of middle life, but it 
 was dignified, and brought the aspect of ripened experi- 
 ence. He thought of all the joys of home-coming, the 
 keenest was to clasp his son's hand with an understand- 
 ing of what they were to be to each other in the years 
 that were to unfold.
 
 IN THE OLD HOUSE. 381 
 
 The Carews insisted upon entertaining them for the 
 few days of their stay, and the children had a fine time 
 together. 
 
 " After all," said Dell to her husband, " we must just 
 trust that Randolph will get over his fancy for West 
 Point. We must make other pursuits attractive to him. 
 When he is as old as Sherburne ' ' 
 
 "And Sherburne was very trying last year. I did 
 feel quite discouraged with him. Of course the foolish- 
 ness about Gertrude had some weight. What a fine 
 thing for him that she really was in love with some one 
 else. My dear, what are you sighing about? " 
 
 " Love-making and all that. Getting children settled 
 in the right groove in life. And then — O Bertram, their 
 going out of your life ! " 
 
 "My darling, we will not meet trouble half-way. 
 There are years first." 
 
 The three mothers had delightful talks about old times. 
 How old, indeed, they seemed when Tessy was a young 
 girl gathering the sweetness of common daily living; 
 Millicent almost surprised at her own success in literature, 
 Lyndell eager, strenuous, longing for her part in the 
 great world. And now it was living anew in their chil- 
 dren's lives. 
 
 " The next great family event," said the Judge, " will 
 be Sherburne's coming of age. You know Dell you de- 
 sired the name to be perpetuated. So do I. I am proud 
 of it, and there should always be Sherburnes in the old 
 house where they have reigned for nearly two centuries. 
 My plan is for him to take the name legally. In my old 
 age I shall go back to Beaumanoir, for that is still dear 
 to me. Sherburne will marry some time, and I hope he 
 and his will love the old home as we have all loved it.
 
 382 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 So we must gather in all the clan on this occasion, small 
 and great. There have been so few breaks in it, but we 
 cannot hope to have it go on that way many years 
 longer." 
 
 "That will be a delightful reunion," returned Doctor 
 Carew. " Yes, we will come, with all the children that 
 have been given to us." 
 
 Leonard came around to Lyndell and laid his hand 
 affectionately on her shoulder. 
 
 "O Dell," and there was a depth of emotion in his 
 tone, "do you never regret your wedding gift to Tessy 
 and myself? Every year it grows in sacredness to me, 
 every year it seems more heroic in you. For you have 
 sons — you were a Sherburne ' ' 
 
 " And my sons might not care for it. Then my heart 
 would be indeed broken. And while Randolph enjoyed 
 his summer wonderfully, I can see that he is longing for 
 the fray and the struggle that breaks from the very soul 
 of active life. He would find those leisurely aspects irk- 
 some. Even Bertram, proud as he is of Doctor Under- 
 wood's work, would not be happy doing it. O, I am 
 afraid we are recreant to the Sherburne blood. And you 
 know I have had a great deal more than that in the value 
 of the coal mines. It is right that great-grandfather's 
 wealth should be divided." 
 
 " I feel that you have given me the better part. No 
 money could recompense me for the loss of it. And 
 Sherburne is proud of the home of his ancestors." 
 
 Then he kissed her tenderly. 
 
 "None of my sisters are dearer than you, Lyndell," 
 he said, with fervent emotion. 
 
 Bertram Carew asked her the same question that night, 
 and she answered him with a kiss.
 
 IN THE OLD HOUSE. 383 
 
 The autumn was one of magnificence, late and glow- 
 ing. Indeed from the profusion of flowers it might have 
 been early summer. Honeysuckle made all the air sweet, 
 and roses lingered long in their second blooming. Ri- 
 pened fruit lent its fragrance, and the skies of wonderful 
 blue suggested June. 
 
 The Amorys returned home in time, and the Osbornes 
 came on to redeem their daughter, they said, though 
 Uncle Paul was loth to give her up. The three Stan- 
 wood sons, Archie with his sweet daughter, clerical 
 Floyd with his family, and Uncle Win, who had added 
 a baby to the circle. Millicent Drayton and Nora Mal- 
 lory who seemed more like a sister than a daughter, and 
 Dell with her growing flock, and the Baltimore uncle, 
 aunt and cousins. 
 
 After that came the neighborhood, who were delighted 
 to do honor to the new heir. At first he had been re- 
 luctant to give up his father's name, but it was a proud 
 event to be chosen to carry on that of the old family, and 
 his grandmother, with her tall and still erect figure and 
 silvery hair, thought it the proudest day of her life. But 
 she too echoed Leonard's sentiment. 
 
 "Lyndell," she said, in a voice tremulous with deep 
 feeling, "I think none of my children are dearer than 
 you." 
 
 They talked over the long gone days, the sadness, the 
 joys and compensations of the past ; the many sides that 
 had interlaced with each other's lives, and the life that 
 was going on into new beginnings with these young peo- 
 ple looking eagerly forward to their day, though this 
 evening they danced and laughed and jested with all 
 lightheartedness. 
 
 It was Grandpapa Beaumanoir who made the great
 
 384 THE HEIR OE SHERBURNE. 
 
 speech of the evening and read the bit of legal paper in 
 which the young man resigned his father's name, and 
 was henceforth to be what he had been named twenty- 
 one years before — Edward Lyndell Sherburne, to carry 
 on the honorable name of an old family by the generosity 
 of his well loved relative, Lyndell Sherburne Carew. 
 
 The young man moved all hearts by his manly and 
 tender reply. 
 
 Doctor Carew responded. There were other speeches, 
 a grand supper, and more dancing, a lovely, merry crowd 
 of young folks, who would always remember the occasion. 
 
 One of the happiest was Tessy Beaumanoir. She and 
 Dell recalled the afternoon of the play under the old tree, 
 and how mysteriously their lives had blended together. 
 She had not been a brilliant woman nor taken any high 
 place in the world, she could not have written any 
 learned treatise or settled the great questions of the day, 
 but to-night she was a proud wife and mother, content to 
 shine in her own path and thus irradiate the way of 
 others. 
 
 The two who had touched her life so nearly were 
 watching her with loving eyes. 
 
 " ' Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her own 
 works praise her in the gates,' " said Doctor Carew, 
 turning to his wife. 
 
 And she with her harvest yet to garner glanced up and 
 smiled.
 
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