has begun again. I do not by any means intend to imply that Brampton is not a pleasant place to spend the summer: the number of its annual visitors is a refutation of that; b

ethro. Nor would she go to Boston, though urged by Miss Lucretia; and Mrs. Mer

es and the neighbors who dropped in. Among these were Mr. Gamaliel Ives, who talked literature with Cynthia; and Lucy Baird, his wife, who had taken Cynthia under her wing. I wish I had time to write about Lucy Baird. And Mr. Jonathan Hill came-his

n analysis of the sorrow which he knew was afflicting the girl, but he had had a general and most sympathetic understanding of it ever since the time when Jethro h

of love rose up through the grains of sand, it was, at least, not Cynthia's fault. Hers were the letters of a friend. She was reading such and such a book-had he read it? And he must not work too hard. How could her letters be otherwise when Jeth

go to him, but when morning came she could not bring herself to do so. I do not think it was because she feared that he might believe her appeal would be made in behalf of Bob's father. Knowing Jethro as she

, for instance, were not being run to their full capacity. And then had come the definite news that Mr. Worthington was beaten, a local representative having arrived straight from the rotunda. Cynthia overheard Lem Hallowell telling it to Ephraim, and she could not for the life of her help rejoicing, though she despised herself f

n is defeated, the serfs come out of their holes in the castle rock and fling their curses across the moat. Cynthia slept

gram. The first rumor had been false. Brampton had not yet received the details, but the Consolidation Bill had gone into the House that morning, and would be a law before the week was out. A part of it was incomprehensible to Cynthia, but so much she ha

off to Coniston. Guess he's done for, this time, for certain. Looks it. By Godfrey,

able behind the Brampton House, and in half an hour was driving along that familiar road to Coniston, alone; for she had often driven Jethro's horses, and knew every turn of the way. And as she gazed at the purple mountain through the haze and drank in the sweet scents of the year's fulness, she was strangely happy

prised upon it, and which she in that instant feared to see, was not there. Jethro's soul was at peace, though Cynthia could not understand why it was so. She stole to him and flung her arms about his neck, and with a cry he seiz

wrong,

e had believed him to have accomplished Isaac Worthington's downfall. Now that he

you to come back-

ove for her had made him go, an

me, Cynthy-d

ook he

me-a l

ck his hair, tenderly, from his forehea

s, now," she said, in a low voice

as thinking of the hillside clearing in the forest-

thro," she said, smiling up at him. "Saturday

l come s

I'll be away from you, exc

to me-won't you

urse I

e first book you r

inson Crusoe

f that book. Know some of it by heart

usly. His eyes were on the great hi

e Jethro, if we can f

d Jethro. "R-remember when

ia, "and I had my

n. The isolation of Crusoe; depicted by Defoe's genius, had been comparable to his own isolation, and he had pondered upon it much

had begun to rise from the water when they turned back again. The kitchen windows were already growing yellow, and through them the faithful Millicent could be seen bustling about in her preparati

look at his face. Had it been possible, she would not have left him, and on her way to Brampton thr

e postoffice, which did not close until eight, and Cynthia smiled when she saw the utensils of his cooking-kit strewn on the hearth. In her absence he invariably unpacked and used it, and of co

ut up the kit-hev you?" He stood in front of the fireplace staring with apparent interest at the pla

se, "and I think he is very tired. But he seems he seem

phraim. "I am glad to he

u done ri

you'd only told me. I'll g

and drew no comment. But the other! That one had been postmarked at the capital, and as he had sat at his counter at the post-office waiting for closing time he bad turned it over and over with many ejaculations and futile g

his favor; and Cynthia never failed to laugh at these little facetious asides. He was now earning the princely sum of ninety dollars a month-not enough to marry on, alas! On Saturday nights he and Percy Broke scrubbed as much as possible of the grime from their hands and faces and went to spend Sunday at Elberon, the Broke place on the Hudson; from whence Miss Sally Broke

n every way. She sat very still for a long while, and presently she heard Ephraim go out. But Cynthia did not move. Mr. Worthington relented and Bob recalled! The vista of happiness suddenly opened up, widened and widened until it was too bright for Cynthia's vision, and she would compel her mind to dwell on another prospect,-that of the father and son reconciled. Although her temples throbbed, she tried to analyze the letter. It imp

look of peace on Jethro's face which had troubled her. One letter she thrust into her dress, but the other she laid aside, and her knees trembled under her as she rose and went into the en

bing you, Miss Wetherel

ered Cynth

I com

his hat, bottom up, on the table, and of unbuttoning his coat, subtly indicated the honor which he was conferring upon the place. And he eyed Cynthia, standing before him in the lamplight, with a modification of the hawk-like look which was meant to be at once condescending and con

sit down?

e said; "I hope I may n

thi

wn herself, and he followed her ex

gton. "I only arrived in Brampton an hour ago, but I thoug

ynthia, "I recei

chool-teacher should receive the advances of the first citizen, come to give a gracious consent to her marriage with his son. Had he known it, Cynthia was anything

them," said Cynth

intentions that he was disposed to believe that the girl was overwhelmed by the good fortu

he inherits from his poor mother-the kind of nature likely to commit a rash act which would ruin his career. I have since become convinced that he has-ahem-inherited likewise a determination

said

uired Mr. Worthington, g

thia, her color

"I have been under the impression that yo

true," sh

of your character, and has strengthened me in my resolution that I am now doing right. It may be difficult for you to understand a father's feelings. The complete separation from m

what?" s

. Unfortunately, we have not time to go into that conversation with Mr. Flint, who had given a very good account of Cynthia indeed. After all (Mr. Worthi

ine. You must be a little indulgent with parents, Cynthia," he added with a little smile, "we have our castles in the air, too. S

said C

ther, whom I respected very much. And your father, I understand, came of very good people, and was forced by circumstances to adopt the means of livelihood he did. My attention has been called to the letters he wrote to the Guardian, which I hear have been highly praised by competent critics, and I

engaged to him

ortly, I imagine,"

hich she had been impelled to speak. She did not hate Isaac Worthington now-she despised him. He had not dared to mention Jethro,

have not yet made up my mind w

n away when he heard these words would be to

d, starting forward

not frightened, but she was trying

will not speak. I did my best, from the very first, to make Bob give up the thought of marrying me, although I loved and honored him. Loving him as I do, I do not want to be the cause of separating him from his father, and of depriving

aimed Mr. Worthington, now in a rage h

lled as he grew angry. "I believe that that consent, w

to restrain and caution him. But Mr. Flint could have no command over his maste

old you this!"

me-but he will if I ask him. I guessed it from your letter. I heard that he had come

worn that look of peace. He had made his supreme sacrifice-for her. No, he had told her nothing, and she might never have known. She

justified ever since. Where now were these arguments so wonderfully plausible? Where were the refutations which he had made ready in case of a barely possible need? He had gone into the Pelican House intending to tell Jethro of his determination to agree to the marriage. That was one. He had done so-that was another-and he had written the lette

ver in his life had Isaac Worthington been so ignored, so put to shame, as by this school-teacher of Brampton. Before, self-esteem and sophistry had always carried him off between them; sometimes, in truth, with a wound-the wound had always healed. But he had a feeling, to-night,

o that life, even though his love for her had made him do it. But Isaac Worthington did not know of what she was thinking-he thought only of hims

e than suspicions. If he did so, he would have to appear to forgive her in spite of what she had said to him. And Bob was coming home. Could he tell Bob that he had changed his mind and withdrawn his consent to the marriage? There world be the reason, and again Bob would believe her. And again, if

good woman, but there had been many times when he had deplored-especially in his travels the lack of other qualities in his wife. Cynthia, he thought, had these qualities,-so necessary for the wife of one who would succeed to powe

ings which prompted you. It is natural that you should have a resentment against me after everything that has happened. It is perhaps natural, too, that I should lose my te

There was something very fine, he thought, about her

d," he said,-"wi

hia answered, "because

. Worthingt