mouths agape like fishes. So little prosperity had come into the

via, at length

said

" said Sid

sister Susy's daughter?" asked Sylvi

after she married John Fletcher," replied the lawyer

rry Abrahama instead of Susy. She was enough sight more suitable age for him. He was too old for Susy, an

ss that catches men," said th

that kind of man. I never did think much of him. He was handsome and glib, but he was all surface. I guess poor Abrahama had some re

ssion of bewilderment, almost amounting to idio

articulating with difficulty. "Susy had just as much right to the property, and

five hundred on her we

er will," sta

. "She was named for him, and his father before him, you know. I always thought the

and woman," said Sylvia. She already spoke of Abrahama in

people in New York," replied Meeks. "I think they took

uld have been awful for a granddaughter of Abraham White's to do that

th Susy after she married, or her husband, or the daughter

thoughtfully. She looked worried. Then again that expression of almost idiotic joy overs

es of land with it

ach other. Both hesitated. T

w much of an income A

t woman; she could work and save; but she didn't know any more about business than other women. There's an income of about-well, about six hundred dollars and some odd cents after the taxes and insurance are paid. And she

are paid!" said Sylvia. She gaped horribly. Her ex

re paid, and all that land, and that great house!"

the sum seemed large to him also. "You know there's an income besides from that fine grass-land," said he. "There'

face seemed to expand with an en

r what?" a

eaper in the end to keep an-au

Meeks burst into

g over children, and scaring horses, with you underneath most of the time, either getting blown

against your principles,"

olks run 'em," said Henry; "

won't shy at one, if we have anything,

ggy in Abrahama's

ared, violently. "Here we are talking about that poor woman's things before she

y, soothingly, but he, too, l

says. To-morrow you can go over there and sit with her, and let Miss Babcock take a nap." Meeks rose as he spoke. "I must be going," he said. "I needn

," declared the husband a

er. Both looked disagreeable to the other. B

via said, defiantly. "Maybe she

will," returned Henr

ssibilities of wrong feeling which they realized. Sylvia did not understand how, in the face of such prosperity, she cou

osite, and stared at her with gloomy eyes, which yet held laten

at poor old woman to die, and I keep telling myself that you d

. "I wish he'd kept his news to h

ss. Then she quailed before her husband's stern gaze. "Of course I know it won't make any d

a White's among them, although she was still quick, and he loathed himself. He turned the paper with a rattling jerk to an account of a crime

erly. "If they would turn a little of their attention to protecting the helpless women and ch

le cottage and go to live in the big house. She imagined herself looking through the treasures which Abrahama would leave behind her-then a monstrous loathing of herself seized her. She resolved that the very next morning sh

ink myself we ought to have a doctor called from Alford to-morrow, if she is no better, and have a consultation.

to-morrow. I will go over there with you myself to-morrow morning. I think the p

e no chance," said Sylvia, sagely. "Yes, I agree

saw in the other's face that same ignoble jo

ling in. "Come out here," he said. Sylvia followed him to the door. They stepped out in the dewy yard and stood listening. Beneath their feet was soft, green gra

They counted from that instant. When the

r age," sa

said