t the other turned
on him sternly.

"If you are doing this for the sake of Abel Edwards's widow and her
children, you are acting from a mistaken sense of charity, and
showing poor judgment," said he.

Squire Eben laughed again. "You made no reply to my proposition,
doctor," he said.

"You are in earnest?"

"I am."

"You understand what you are doing?"

"I certainly do. I am giving you between fifteen and sixteen hundred
dollars' worth of land for a thousand."

"There is no merit nor charity in such foolish measures as this,"
said the doctor, half suspicious that there was more behind this, and
not put to shame but aroused to a sense of superiority by such
drivelling idiocy of benevolence.

"Dare say you're right, doctor," returned Squire Eben. "I won't even
cheat you out of the approval of Heaven. Will you meet me at Means's
office to-morrow, with the necessary documents for the transfer? We
had better go around to Mrs. Edwards's afterwards and inform her, I
suppose."

"I will meet you at Means's office at ten o'clock to-morrow morning,"
said the doctor, shortly. "Good-evening," and with that turned on his
heel. However, when he had opened the door he turned again and called
curtly and magisterially after Squire Eben: "I advise you to
cultivate a little more business foresight for the sake of your wife
and child," and Squire Eben answered back:

"Thank you--thank you, doctor; guess you're right," and then began to
whistle like a boy as he went down the avenue of pines.

Through lack of remunerative industry, and easy-going habits, his
share of the old Merritt property had dwindled considerably; he had
none too much money to spend at the best, and now he had bartered
away a goodly slice of his paternal acres for no adequate worldly
return. He knew it all, he felt a half-whimsical dismay as he went
home, and yet the meaning which underlies the letter of a good action
was keeping his heart warm.

When he reached home his wife, who had just finished her game, slid
out gently, and the usual festivities began. Colonel Lamson, warmed
with punch and good-fellowship and tobacco, grew brilliant at cards,
and humorously reminiscent of old jokes between the games; John
Jennings lagged at cards, but flashed out now and then with fine wit,
while his fervently working brain lit up his worn face with the light
of youth. The lawyer, who drank more than the rest, played better and
better, and waxed caustic in speech if