ages of the past were confused.
Yet it was difficult to tell why it was so, for after the first the
child could, it seemed, have realized no difference in her life. Now
and then she heard some of that conversation characterized at once
by the confidence of wrong and injustice, and the logical doubt of
it, by solid reasoning which, if followed far enough, refuted
itself, by keen and unanswerable argument, and the wildest and most
futile enthusiasm. But she had gained nothing except the conviction
of the great wrongs of the poor of this earth and the awful tyranny
of the rich, of the everlasting moaning of Lazarus at the gates and
the cry for water later on from the depths of the rich man's hell.
Somehow that last never comforted Ellen; she had no conception of
the joy of the injured party over righteous retribution. She pitied
the rich man and Lazarus impartially, yet all the time a spirit of
fierce partisanship with these poor men was strengthening with her
growth, their eloquence over their wrongs stirred her soul, and set
her feet outside her childhood. Still, as before said, there was no
tangible difference in her daily life. The little petted treasure of
the Brewsters had all her small luxuries, sweets, and cushions of
life, as well after as before the closing of Lloyd's. And the
preparations for her aunt's wedding went on also. The sight of her
lover sleigh-riding with her rival that afternoon had been too much
for the resolution of Eva Loud's undisciplined nature. She had
herself gone to Jim Tenny's house that evening, and called him to
account, to learn that he had seriously taken her resolution not to
marry at present to proceed from a fear that he would not provide
properly for her, and that he had in this state of indignation been
easily led by the sight of Aggie Bemis's pretty face in her front
door, as he drove by, to stop. She had told Jim that she would marry
him as she had agreed if he looked at matters in that way, and had
passed Aggie Bemis's window leaning on Jim's arm with a side stare
of triumph.

"Be you goin' to get married next month after what you said this
mornin'?" her sister asked, half joyfully, half anxiously.

"Yes, I be," was all Eva replied, and Fanny stared at her; she was
so purely normal in her inconsistency as to seem almost the other
thing.

The preparations for the wedding went on, but Eva never seemed as
happy as she had done before the closing of Lloyd's. Jim Tenny could
get