seen you in an age--but I'm glad, old fellow; I was feeling rather
down; I should have had a gay presentiment."

"Remembering old times when we were both bloated aristocrats,
favorites with the gods."

"And are now earning daily bread," laughed the doctor. "At least I am
and trying to help suffering humanity. Isn't that neatly put?"

"I don't know whether I can claim all that; now and then I get some
poor fellow's affairs out of a snarl and make him pay for it, and one
end of something has drifted here to Newton and I'm after that, but I
thought I'd hunt you up first. I've been here a good half hour."

"And supper is ready in the house. Then we will have a good hour
before any one drops in. Come in," and he opened a side door into a
hall.

There were three persons at the table, an elderly couple and a woman
in the thirties. They made Mr. Lorimer cordially welcome and the
supper was inviting. The guest asked some questions about Newton which
was a quiet rather old fashioned town quite set in its ways.

Afterward they settled themselves comfortably in the office.

"I've come to hunt up some one--do you know anything about a Bethany
Home for orphans, girls, I believe."

Dr. Richards roused from his lazy position. "Yes, I know about it,
though I never been on the staff. Why?"

"I want to learn about a child placed there four or five years ago.
Let me see," referring to a memorandum, "name, Marilla Bond; mother
and father died in this town."

"Marilla Bond. Yes. I know the child. What of her?"

"I'll begin at the very first. Hardly two years ago Peter Schermerhorn
died at the age of ninety-eight. He was the black sheep of an
otherwise respectable family, went off and spent his portion in
riotous living, afterward bought a tract of ground above Harlem,
turned hermit, raised geese and ducks and pigs, married and had three
daughters and they in turn married, glad, I suppose, to get away from
the penurious living. So it went on. He had to give up the pigs and
geese, did a little gardening and two years ago died without a will.
Oddly enough he had kept a family record which has been of great
service to us. The old shanty was a disgrace, the ground valuable.
The city was bringing up one of its fine avenues and a syndicate made
a proffer for the land. Of course the heirs soon scented this out, and
our firm has been trying to settle the estate so the property can be
turned into money, and a good deed given. We have foun