ack her disappointment.

"I might live here, but let the Seminary drop, anyway. That would save
a good deal," she begged. "I'd get quite as much good out of my work
outside, and then we'd have all that money besides."

"I don't know; I'll see," replied Thorpe. "The mental discipline of
class-room work might be a good thing."

He had already thought of this modification himself, but with his
characteristic caution, threw cold water on the scheme until he could
ascertain definitely whether or not it was practicable. He had already
paid the tuition for the year, and was in doubt as to its repayment. As
a matter of fact, the negotiation took about two weeks.

During that time Helen Thorpe went through her disappointment and
emerged on the other side. Her nature was at once strong and adaptable.
One by one she grappled with the different aspects of the case, and
turned them the other way. By a tour de force she actually persuaded
herself that her own plan was not really attractive to her. But what
heart-breaks and tears this cost her, only those who in their youth have
encountered such absolute negations of cherished ideas can guess.

Then Thorpe told her.

"I've fixed it, Helen," said he. "You can attend the High School and the
classes, if you please. I have put the two hundred and fifty dollars out
at interest for you."

"Oh, Harry!" she cried reproachfully. "Why didn't you tell me before!"

He did not understand; but the pleasure of it had all faded. She no
longer felt enthusiasm, nor gratitude, nor anything except a dull
feeling that she had been unnecessarily discouraged. And on his side,
Thorpe was vaguely wounded.

The days, however, passed in the main pleasurably for them both. They
were fond of one another. The barrier slowly rising between them was not
yet cemented by lack of affection on either side, but rather by lack of
belief in the other's affection. Helen imagined Thorpe's interest in
her becoming daily more perfunctory. Thorpe fancied his sister cold,
unreasoning, and ungrateful. As yet this was but the vague dust of a
cloud. They could not forget that, but for each other, they were alone
in the world. Thorpe delayed his departure from day to day, making all
the preparations he possibly could at home.

Finally Helen came on him busily unpacking a box which a dray had left
at the door. He unwound and laid one side a Winchester rifle, a variety
of fishing tackle, and some other miscellanies of the w