urvivors the difference
between poverty and financial independence. Now it was barred by the
lapse of time.

Miss Laura was waiting in eager expectation. Outwardly calm, her eyes
were bright, her cheeks were glowing, her bosom rose and fell
excitedly. Could he tell her that this seemingly fortunate accident
was merely the irony of fate--a mere cruel reminder of a former
misfortune? No, she could not believe it!

"It has made me happy, Henry," she said, while he still kept his eyes
bent on the papers to conceal his perplexity, "it has made me very
happy to think that I may not come to you empty-handed."

"Dear woman," he thought, "you shall not. If the note is not good, it
shall be made good."

"Laura," he said aloud, "I am no lawyer, but Caxton shall look at
these to-day, and I shall be very much mistaken if they do not bring
you a considerable sum of money. Say nothing about them, however,
until Caxton reports. He will be here to see me to-day and by
to-morrow you shall have his opinion."

Miss Laura went away with a radiantly hopeful face, and as she and
Graciella went down the street, the colonel noted that her step was
scarcely less springy than her niece's. It was worth the amount of
Fetters's old note to make her happy; and since he meant to give her
all that she might want, what better way than to do it by means of
this bit of worthless paper? It would be a harmless deception, and it
would save the pride of three gentlewomen, with whom pride was not a
disease, to poison and scorch and blister, but an inspiration to
courtesy, and kindness, and right living. Such a pride was worth
cherishing even at a sacrifice, which was, after all, no sacrifice.

He had already sent word to Caxton of his accident, requesting him to
call at the house on other business. Caxton came in the afternoon, and
when the matter concerning which he had come had been disposed of,
Colonel French produced Fetters's note.

"Caxton," he said, "I wish to pay this note and let it seem to have
come from Fetters."

Caxton looked at the note.

"Why should you pay it?" he asked. "I mean," he added, noting a change
in the colonel's expression, "why shouldn't Fetters pay it?"

"Because it is outlawed," he replied, "and we could hardly expect him
to pay for anything he didn't have to pay. The statute of limitations
runs against it after fifteen years--and it's older than that, much
older than that."

Caxton made a rapid mental calculation.