s of his stepmother. She
had changed since last they, met. Much of her soft, voluptuous
beauty was gone, and in its place was a look of desperation, as if
she did not care for what she had done, and meant to brave it
through. Still, when alone with Mr. De Vere and Maude, she conversed
freely of their misfortunes, and ere the day was over they
thoroughly understood the matter. The doctor was ruined; and when
his wife was questioned of the future she professed to have formed
no plan, unless, indeed, her husband lived with Nellie, who was now
housekeeping, while she went whither she could find a place. To this
arrangement Mr. De Vere made no comment. He did not seem disposed to
talk, but when the day of sale came he acted; and it was soon
understood that the house together with fifty acres of land would
pass into his hands. Louis, too, was busy. Singling out every
article of furniture which had been his mother's, he bought it with
his own money, while John, determining that "t'other one," as he
called Katy, should not be entirely overlooked, bid off the
high-post bedstead and chest of drawers which once were hers. Many of the
more elegant pieces of furniture were sold, but Mr. De Vere kept
enough to furnish the house handsomely; and when the sale was over
and the family once more reassembled in the pleasant parlor, Dr.
Kennedy wept like a child as he blessed the noble young man who had
kept for him his home. Maude Glendower, too, was softened; and going
up to Mr. De Vere she said, "If I know how to spend lavishly I know
also how to economize, and henceforth none shall accuse me of
extravagance."

These were no idle words, for, as well as she could, she kept her
promise; and though she often committed errors, she usually tried to
do the thing which her children would approve. After a day or two
Mr. De Vere and Maude returned to Hampton, leaving Louis with his
father, who, in his society, grew better and happier each day.
Hannah, who was growing old, went, from choice, to live with Maude,
but John would not forsake his master. Nobody knew the kinks of the
old place like himself, he said, and he accordingly stayed,
superintending the whole, and coming ere long to speak of it all as
his. It was his farm, his oxen, his horses, his everything, except
the pump which Hannah in her letter to Mauda, had designated as an
injun.

"'Twas a mighty good thing in its place," he said, "and at a fire it
couldn't be beat, but he'd be han