reat a value upon
it, but certainly we aren't judges of that. You know that Uncle Thomas
never married, and when Grandfather died, Uncle Thomas became Daddy's
guardian. I believe he loved Father better than anyone in the world.
Who could help it?" Nancy's voice trembled slightly, and she winked
back the tears which rose to her eyes at the memory of her father's
handsome merry face, which had grown so unaccountably saddened and worn
before his early death.

"He gave Father everything he wanted, when he was a boy--you know how
Daddy used to tell us how Uncle Thomas would tiptoe up to his room at
night and slip gold pieces into his stocking, so that he could find
them in the morning, and then when Daddy asked him about it, he would
shrug his shoulders, and his eyes would twinkle, and he'd say, 'It must
have been Brownies.'"

"I can't imagine how a man who used to be like that could ever have
grown so hard and bitter," said Alma.

"Well--then, you see, when Father grew up, Uncle wanted him to be
successful for himself. And he was terribly proud of Father when Daddy
first came back and told him that he had made five thousand dollars in
his first year at business. Then Father told him that he was going to
be married. Uncle didn't want him to--not until he had definitely
settled himself in life. And then, Father was very young, and Mother
only a girl of seventeen--think of it, just my age. But when Uncle saw
Mother, he adored her, of course." Nancy paused, and seemed to have
forgotten the rest of her story, but Alma prompted her curiously. She
had never heard this tale before, for Nancy had gleaned it bit by bit
from her father, when they used to take long walks together through the
country, and, putting two and two together, she had been able to get
rather close to the real truth of things.

"I know Uncle adored Mother," said Alma, kicking through a pile of wet
leaves. "He gave her those lovely Italian earrings, which I'm to have
when I'm eighteen. And all that wonderful Venetian lace, which the
first one of us to be married is going to have for her wedding gown."

"Yes. Well, then--then after Father and Mother were married things
didn't go so very well. Mother was just a girl--just my age, you know,
only she was pretty, like you, and, I suppose, a little extravagant.
At least, they weren't able to make ends meet very well, although Daddy
made a good income--and, anyhow, Uncle Thomas would have thought her