ained to Mr. Stebbins, "but I can't bear to think that
there's anybody in New York without money enough to have a good time
there."

Mr. Stebbins had made a note of the sum which the allowance was to compass
and had promised to write the letter at once.

"What did you do the last time you were in the city?" Aunt Mary asked.

"I was much occupied with business," said the lawyer, "but I found time to
visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art and--"

"Good gracious!" exclaimed Aunt Mary, "who was takin' you 'round! I never
had a second for any museums or arts;--you ought to have seen a vaudeville,
or that gondola place! I was ferried around four times and the music
lasted all through." She stopped and reflected. "I guess you can make that
money a hundred a month more," she said slowly. "I don't want the boy to
ever feel stinted or have to run in debt."

Mr. Stebbins smiled, and the result was that Jack began to pay up the
bills for his aunt's entertainment very much more rapidly than he had
anticipated doing.

Another pleasant thing was that a week or so later--very soon after Mrs.
Rosscott had given up her town house and returned to the protection of the
parental slate-tiles--Burnett's father, a peppery but jovial old gentleman
(we all know the kind), suddenly asked why Bob never came home any more.
This action on the part of the head of the house being tantamount to the
completest possible forgiveness and obliviousness of the past, Burnett's
mother, of whom the inquiry had been made, wept tears of sincerest joy and
wrote to the youngest of her flock to return to the ancestral fold just as
soon as he possibly could. He came, and as a result, a fortnight later
Jack came, and Mitchell came, and Clover came. Mrs. Rosscott, as we have
previously stated, was already there, and so were Maude Lorne and a great
many others. Some of the others were pretty girls and Burnett and two of
his friends found plenty to amuse them, but Burnett's dearest friend, his
bosom friend, his Fidus Achates, found no one to amuse him, because he was
in earnest, and had eyes for no feminine prettiness, his sight being
dazzled by the radiance of one surpassing loveliness. He had worked
tremendously hard the first month of daily laboring, and felt he deserved
a reward. Be it said for Jack that the reward of which Aunt Mary had the
bestowing counted for very little with him except in its relation to the
far future. The real goal which he was striving tow