es, which the woman's illness had forced her to neglect.

So Miss Merrick asked Louise to look over the weekly accounts, and in
this way came to depend upon her almost as much as she did upon Lawyer
Watson.

As for Patsy, she made no attempt whatever to conciliate her aunt, who
seldom mentioned her name to the others but always brightened visibly
when the girl came into her presence with her cheery speeches and
merry laughter. She never stayed long, but came and went, like a
streak of sunshine, whenever the fancy seized her; and Silas Watson,
shrewdly looking on, saw a new light in Jane's eyes as she looked
after her wayward, irresponsible niece, and wondered if the bargain
between them, regarding the money, would really hold good.

It was all an incomprehensible problem, this matter of the
inheritance, and although the lawyer expected daily to be asked to
draw up Jane Merrick's will, and had, indeed, prepared several forms,
to be used in case of emergency, no word had yet passed her lips
regarding her intentions.

Kenneth's life, during this period, was one of genuine misery. It
seemed to his morbid fancy that whatever path he might take, he was
sure of running upon one or more of those detestable girls who were
visiting at Elmhurst. Even in Donald's harness-room he was not secure
from interruption, for little Patsy was frequently perched upon the
bench there, watching with serious eyes old Donald's motions, and
laughing joyously when in his embarrassment he overturned a can of oil
or buckled the wrong straps together.

Worse than all, this trying creature would saddle Nora, the sorrel
mare, and dash away through the lanes like a tom-boy, leaving him
only old Sam to ride--for Donald would allow no one to use the coach
horses. Sam was tall and boney, and had an unpleasant gait, so that
the boy felt he was thoroughly justified in hating the girl who so
frequently interfered with his whims.

Louise was at first quite interested in Kenneth, and resolved to force
him to talk and become more sociable.

She caught him in a little summer-house one morning, from whence,
there being but one entrance, he could not escape, and at once entered
into conversation.

"Ah, you are Kenneth Forbes, I suppose," she began, pleasantly. "I
am very glad to make your acquaintance. I am Louise Merrick, Miss
Merrick's niece, and have come to visit her."

The boy shrank back as fur as possible, staring her full in the face,
but made no