om his journey, there
to meditate the situation which he had come to comfort, and to try and
devise a way to better its existing circumstances.

It was a pleasant room, one window looking down the driveway, and the
other leading forth to a square balcony that topped the little porch of
the side entrance. There were lambrequins of dark blue with fringe that
always caught in the shutters, and a bedroom suite of mahogany that had
come down from the original John Watkins's aunt, and had been polished by
her descendants so faithfully that its various surfaces shone like
mirrors. Over the bed hung a tent drapery of chintz; over the washstand
hung a crayon done by Arethusa in her infancy--the same representing a lady
engaged in the pleasant and useful occupation of spinning wheat with a
hand composed of five fingers, and no thumb. In the corner stood a
cheval-glass which Jack had seen shrink steadily for years until now it
could no longer reflect his shoulders unless he retired back for some two
yards or more. There was a delectable closet to the room, all painted
white inside, with shelves and cupboards and little bins for shoes and
waste paper and soiled clothes.

Oh! it was really an altogether delightful place in which to abide, and
the pity was that its owner had spent so little time therein of late
years.

To-night--returning to the scene of many childish and boyish
meditations--Jack placed his lamp upon the nightstand at the head of the
bed and sat himself down on a chair near by.

It was late--quite midnight--for he and Aunt Mary's new maid had talked long
and freely ere they separated at last. From his room he could hear the
little faint sounds below stairs, that told of her final preparations for
Lucinda's morning eye, and he rested quiet until all else was quiet and
then leaned back upon the chair's hind legs and, tipping slowly to and fro
in that position, tried to see just what he had better do the first thing
on the following day.

[Illustration 7]

"'Yesterday I played poker until I didn't know a blue chip from a white
one.'"

It was a riddle with a vengeance. It is so easy to say "I'll cut that
Gordian knot!" and then pack one's tooth-brush and start off unknotting,
but it is quite another matter when one comes face to face with the
problem and is met by the "buts" of those who have previously been
essaying to disentangle it.

"She won'