recalled how proud Dr.
Fair had been of his flowers. Celia, who was entering the gate, nodded and
smiled brightly. He noted, however, that her face was losing its soft
curves and rose tints. Celia was another of his favorites, and he knew she
was having her battle with misfortune, meeting it as bravely as a young
woman could. Thomas Gilpin might so easily have smoothed the way for her.
The spinet was an interesting heirloom, no doubt, but would not help Celia
solve the problem of bread and butter.

The shop of the cabinet-maker was just off Main Street, at the foot of the
hill. To its original two rooms he had added two more, and here he lived
with no companions but a striped cat and a curly dog, who endured each
other and shared the affection of their master.

Morgan's housekeeping was not burdensome. Certain of his neighbors always
remembered him on baking day, and his tastes were simple. His shop opened
immediately on the street; back of it was his living room and the small
garden where he cultivated the gayest blooms. The living room had an open
fireplace, for it was one of the cabinet-maker's pleasures to sit in the
firelight when the work of the day was over, and a small oil stove
sufficed for his cooking. On one side of the chimney was a high-backed
settle, and above it a book shelf. Like most Scotch boys, he had had a
fair education, and possessed a genuine reverence for books and a love of
reading. In the opposite corner was an ancient mahogany desk where he kept
his accounts, and near by in the window a shelf always full of plants in
the winter. A cupboard of his own manufacture, a table, a lamp, and an
arm-chair completed the furniture of the room. The walls he had painted a
dull red, and over the fireplace in fanciful letters had traced this
motto: "Good in everything."

To this cheerful belief Morgan held firmly, although there were times like
this morning, when coming out of the sunlight and feeling a little weary,
he noticed that the walls were growing dingy and the motto dim, and sighed
to think how hard it was to see the good in some things.

He placed a paper in the old secretary and was turning toward the shop
when he stopped short in amazement, for in the doorway stood Rosalind, her
face full of eagerness. Behind her was Miss Herbert, whom Morgan entirely
overlooked in his pleasure at seeing Mr. Pat's little girl again.

He shook hands warmly and offered the arm-chair, but Rosalind had no
though