re financing that New Idea Home. I tell
you that's a fine conception."

But Cameron only looked modest. At heart he was a very shy man and he
deprecated any idea that he was doing anything unusual in giving most of
his time to affairs that paid dividends only in happiness and in the
consciousness of moral obligation fulfilled.

The household was occupying the pergola as they arrived and sprang out
upon the clipped lawn.

Neville kissed his mother tenderly, shook hands cordially with his
father, greeted Lily with a fraternal hug and Stephanie with a firm
grasp of both hands.

"How perfectly beautiful it is here!" he exclaimed, looking out over the
green valley beyond--and unconsciously his gaze rested on the Estwich
hills, blue and hazy and soft as dimpled velvet. Out there, somewhere,
was Valerie; heart and pulse began to quicken. Suddenly he became aware
that his mother's eyes were on him, and he turned away toward the south
as though there was also something in that point of the compass to
interest him.

Gordon Collis, following a hand-cart full of young trees wrapped in
burlap, passed across the lawn below and waved a greeting at Neville.

"How are you, Louis!" he called out. "Don't you want to help us set
these hybrid catalpas?"

"I'll be along by and by," he replied, and turned to the group under the
pergola who desired to know how it was in town--the first question
always asked by New Yorkers of anybody who has just arrived from that
holy spot.

"It's not too warm," said Neville; "the Park is charming, most of the
houses on Fifth Avenue are closed--"

"Have you chanced to pass through Tenth Street?" asked his father
solemnly.

But Neville confessed that he had not set foot in those sanctified
precincts, and his father's personal interest in Manhattan Island ceased
immediately.

They chatted inconsequentially for a while; then, in reply to a question
from Stephanie, he spoke of his picture, "A Bride," and, though it was
still unfinished, he showed them a photograph of it.

[Illustration: "'It is very beautiful, Louis,' said his mother, with a
smile of pride."]

The unmounted imprint passed from hand to hand amid various comments.

"It is very beautiful, Louis," said his mother, with a smile of pride;
and even as she spoke the smile faded and her sad eyes rested on him
wistfully.

"Is it a sacred picture?" asked his father, examining it through his
glasses without the slightest trace of interest