right hand to be sworn--that's all. I've written my
full name and promised that the writing was mine, 's'welp me Gawd,' as
the court-house man used to say, till I could do either one under the
influence of ether. Nothing really bothersome about it, but I'm glad
it's over. Business is so tiresome."

"It's not so large a fortune, by a good deal, as it would have been if
your father had listened to me." Mrs. Darby spoke vaguely. "But you will
be amply provided for, anyhow, unless you yourself choose to trifle with
your best interest. You and I are the only Swaims living now. Some day,
if I choose, I can will all my property to you."

The square-cut chin and the deep lines around the stern mouth told
plainly that obedience to this woman's wishes alone could make a
beneficiary to that will.

"You may be a dreamer, and love to go romancing around into new scrapes
like your mother would have done if she could. But she was as
soft-hearted as could be, with all that. That's why she never denied you
anything you wanted. She couldn't do a thing with money, though, as I
said, except spend it. You are a good deal like your father, too, Jerry,
and you'll value property some day as the only thing on earth that can
make life anything but a hard grind. If you don't want to be like that
bunch of everlasting grubs that ride on the Winnowoc train every
afternoon, or the poor country folks around here that never ride in
anything but a rickety old farm-wagon, you'll appreciate what I--and
Uncle Cornie--can do for you."

Uncle Cornie again, and he never had shared in any equal consideration
before. It was a mistake.

"There's the four-forty whistling for the curve at last. It's time it
was coming. I must go in and see that dinner is just right. You run down
and meet it. Cousin Eugene is coming out on it. Your uncle Cornie is
here on the place somewhere. He came out after lunch on some business we
had to fix up. No wonder you missed him. But, Jerry"--the stern-faced
woman put a hand on the girl's shoulder with more of command than caress
in the gesture--"Eugene is a real artist with genius, you know."

"Yes, I know," Jerry replied, a sudden change coming into her tone.
"What of that?"

"You've always known him. You like him very much?" Jerusha Darby was as
awkward in sentiment as she was shrewd in a bargain.

The bloom on the girl's cheek deepened as she looked away toward the
brilliantly green meadows across which the low sun was se