test shock will derange them. And there are certain souls which cannot stand the jars of life-souls created to register thoughts and sentiments too fine for those of

had piled his boxes and rolled his barrels into place; after he had added up the columns in his ledger and recorded, each week, the small but ever increasing deficit which he owed to J

m's Cabin." He made his way, alone, back to the hotel, slipped in by a side entrance, and went dire

asked anxiously. "Why didn

Cynthia," he sai

d his hands, and the events of the evening which

" she said; "the excitement is too mu

we will go ba

he mo

aid Wetherell, "and now

t. "I have enjoyed it here, and I am grateful to Uncle

sunlight was just striking across the roofs through the green trees of the Capitol Park. The remembrance of a certain incident of the night before crept into his mind, and he got

't well. I kno

ied that h

erything out that he had packed, and folded each article over again with amazing quickness. Then she made a rapid survey of the room lest she ha

g to say goodby

t in the train, Cynthia," he s

scattered about, attended by sleepy waitresses. Lest Cynthia might suspect how his head was throbbing, Wetherell tried bravely to eat his breakfast. He did not know that she had gone out, while they were

Wetherell?"

stammered the storekeeper. "Will y

instructions that he

ss," said Wetherell, "but

n hesi

be very angry,

give me

der the sheds, the hissing steam from the locomotive rising perpendicular in the still air of the morning, and soon they were settled in one of the straight-backed seats. The car was almost empty, for few people were going up that day, and at length, after what, seemed an eternity of waiting, they

they climbed, through narrow ways in the forest-ways hedged with alder and fern and sumach and wild grape, adorned with oxeye daisies and tiger lilies, and the big purple flowers which they knew and loved so well. They passed, too, wild lakes overhung with primeval trees, where the iris

d, "don't you love it better tha

he could not

soon the horses were standing with drooping heads and wet sides in front of Mr. Sherman's tavern in Brampton Street; and

own thar to suit ye?" By this time, Wetherell, too, had reached the ground, and as Lem Hallowell gazed into his face the laughter

g very well, Lem

called, and himself seized a huge crate from the back of the coach and flung it on his shoulder. He had his cargo on in a jiffy, cluc

-goin' to bake a cake, and the minister was callatin' to say some word of welcome. Wahn't goin' to be anything grand-jest homelike. But you was right to come if you was tuckered.

ave given way to a world-wide silence, in the midst of which he sought vainly for Cynthia and the stage driver. Most extraordinary of all, out of the silence and the void came the checker-paned windows of the store at Coniston, then the store itself, with the great oaks bending over it, then th

ite, Cynthy. Jest tu

than that. It was Jethro Bass who had induced Dr. Coles to come to Coniston-much against the great man's inclination, and to the detriment of his patients:

never shall know. There is something about that man Jethro Bass which compels you to do hi

wered Dr. Rowell; "none of us could ever understand

, I'd trust her to do it.

tones in the little garden behind the s

cian, and he walked toward Jethro and laid a hand upon his sh

ynthia many years before-and was silent for a long while. The doctor was used to scene

said Jethr

rned again: "

to the capital would he have live

d had always been well fed, and helped over the rough places and shielded from the

ted, from that first sharp attack, and one morning they brought up a reclining chair which belonged to Mr. Satterlee, the minister, and set it in the window. There, in the still days of the early autumn, Wetherell looked down upon the garden he had grown to love, and listened to the song of Coniston Water. Ther

ow, and Ephraim was getting along in years; and Rias Richardson stole up in his carpet slippers; and Moses, after his chores were done, and Amandy with her cakes and delicacies, which he left untouched-though Amandy never knew it. Yes, and Jethro

him comfort; and he would fall asleep with it on his lips, holding her hand, and thinking, perhaps, of that other Cynthia who had tended and nursed and shielded him in other days. Then she would steal down the stairs to Jethro

reliance and her refuge. The first time Cynthia saw him; when the worst of the illness had passed and the strange and terrifying apathy had come, s

n't gone to the capital, Cynthy, this

ro," she answered, trying to comfort him. She, too,

about anything there

thi

"He-he hardly speaks

er the sun had driven

de Coniston Water were

ing up the stairs and

nt

own her book, "it's Mr. M

up from his pillows, and seized her wrist with a stren

he cried-"Mr.

a, agitatedly, "he's d

Wetherell, sinking back a

ent first to the garden to ask Jethro's advice. But Jethro, so Milly Skinner said, had gone off half

Merrill?" ask

u ought to see him? H

on seeing hi

ident was very serious now. The wasted face of the storekeeper, enhanced as it was by the beard, gave Mr. Merrill such a shock that he could not speak for a few

ell, simply, "I wanted to speak to you. Cynthi

ge in him. He had had something on his mind-now she was sur

l who spoke first

pton," he said, "and Tom

e you were sick. I

was in William Wetherell, as he sat in the chair with his eyes fixed on his visitor's fa

see you, anyway,"

think of it at the time. It was not until Alexander Du

said We

session. I don't defend the game of politics as it is played, Mr. Wetherell, but all of us who are friends of Jethro's are generally willing to lend a hand in any little manoeuvre that is going on, and have a practical joke when we can. It was not until I saw you sitting there beside Duncan that the idea occurred to me. It didn't make a great deal of difference whether Duncan or Lovejoy got to the House or not, provided the

a while, gazing out of the window,

that you-that you had us

"no. He didn't know a thing about i

ell's face, but Mr. Merr

be proud-I have taken his money-he has supported my daughter and myself all these years.

peak. The tears were st

sently, "I want you to promise me that you will never

ed his head in assent.

very well that I am worn out, and that I should have gone soon in any

tored, was facing death as he had never fa

g, Wetherell," said he, bro

smiled again. "If my fibre had been a little tougher, this thing would never have happened. There is only one

my way to Boston,"

or the interview to be ended, and when she came in one glance at he

hey descended into the garden after the three had talked awhile

drew a deep breath of that sparkling air and sighed, for his memory ran back to his o

ys shut up here in Coniston. She's much too good to waste on the desert air." Perhaps Mr. Merrill, too, had been thinking of the Elegy that morning. "I don't mean to run down Coniston it's one of the mos

at you be, Steve," J

I know it. Why, she's like your own daughter. You remember w

e Dad and Uncle

long. We'll find room for him. And I guess Uncle Jeth

o the buggy with Mr. Sh

hinking of

thro. "C-come up here from Bram

ept her silent. She knew that Jethro had never ceased to reproach himself for inviting Wetherell to the capital, and she was sure that something had happened there

up the stairs that afternoon, he found William Wetherell alone, looking out over the garden with a new peace and c

better to-day,

the storekeeper, pressing Jethro'

ll," said Jeth

eaking of the welfare of

ttle box lying in the top of my trunk over

reverently, with that same smile on his face and far-off look in his eyes, and drew out a small daguerreotype in a faded velve

saw her again-as if it were yesterday-walking in the golden green light under the village maples, and himself standing in the tannery door; he saw the face under the poke bonnet on the road to Brampton, and heard the thrush singing in the woods. And-if he could only blot ou

But at length he started, as from a dream, and gave it back to Wetherell, who was watching him. Her na

my life, and that she should have been one and you the other. She found me destitute and brought

l, 'twahn't much what I did-no more

n me and destruction. There is something that I have always meant to tell you,

r. He got up and stood in

my old employer, Mr. Judson, the jeweller. He put me in mind of the young countryman who had come in to buy a locket, and I asked her if she knew you. Strange that I should have remembered your name, wasn't it? It was then that she led me t

his coat and drew out a cowhide wallet, and from the wallet the oval locket itself. There it was, tarnished with age, but with that memorable inscription still legible,-"Cynthy, from Jethro"; not Cynthia, but C

w I patronized you when you came into the shop. I believed I should live to be something in the world, then. Ye

and there was a picture of little Cynthia within: of little Cynthia,-not so little now,-a

d is more vigorous, more human-less like a spirit.

ewood box was a brooch and a gold ring-Cynthia Ware's wedding ring-and two small slips of yellow paper. William Wetherell opened on

w that you will cherish it, and cherish her, when I

id Jethro

of the forest with his axe, where Captain Timothy himself lies under his slate headstone with the quaint lettering of bygone days.-That same