sigh--"I see that I shall
never spend the thousand dollars in Meadowvale."

"Don't be too sure of that, my dear Phyllis," I exclaimed in an
outburst, for I was in a particularly happy and generous mood;
"and remember that when you do decide how the money is to be
philanthropically invested we shall see that it is forthcoming."

With such agreeable banter the minutes slipped away, and when
Mary appeared with the customary invitation to tea, it would have
been a jolt to the harmonious order of things to decline. I
cannot say that I have ever cordially approved the austerity of
the New England tea-table, with its cold bread and biscuits, its
applesauce, its frugal allowance of sardines, its basket of cake,
and its not very stimulating pot of tea. But such are the
compensations of pleasant society that even these chilly viands
may be forgotten, and I said my "Amen" to Phyllis's sweet and
modest grace with all the heartiness of a thankful man. As no
gentleman may, with propriety, run away immediately after he has
accepted hospitality, I lingered in the evening, and we had more
music, which so calmed and rested me that I wondered at my past
nervousness and marvelled that I had even contemplated a journey
across the water.

How it came about that the next morning Phyllis and I were
strolling over the village, down by the river and into the
pleasant woods, I have forgotten, but I dare say that we were
discussing further developments of philanthropy, and endeavoring
to come to a conclusion as to the proper disposition of that
troublesome thousand dollars. The girl was so young and
joyous, so pretty, so arch, so fascinating with that little
coquettishness that is not the usual type of the Puritan maiden,
I could not find it in my heart to remember Mary's words and "try
to instil in her a closer appreciation of the more serious
purposes of life." Indeed life is so serious that it is one of
the blessed decrees of Mother Nature that we have that brief
allotment of time when it is too serious to think about, and
youth passes so quickly that it is criminal to rob it of its
golden hour. In such a presence I felt my own spirits rising, my
step becoming springy, my whole nature less sluggish, and, had I
looked in the mirror, I should have confidently expected to see a
youthful bloom in my cheeks and a return of hair to primary
conditions.

It is due to this interesting young woman to say that she coyly
urged me not to forget my o