o the inquisitive. She set the pace for many a
younger woman, and was far more active than prim little Netty, her
daughter. Needless to say, she was adored by her son, to whom she was
both mother and chum.

Dick Swinton was like his father, the same gentlemanly spirit combined
with a somewhat unpractical mind, which turned to the beautiful and the
good, and refused to admit the ugliness of unpleasant facts. Indeed, the
young man's position was even more awkward than his father's. As grandson
and heir of Richard Herresford much was expected of him. Everybody did
not know that the rich old man was such a miser that, after paying for
his grandson's education, at his daughter's persuasion, he allowed him
only a thousand dollars a year, and persistently refused to disburse this
sum until it was dragged from him by Mrs. Swinton.

The rector turned over the leaves of the account-books, and sighed
heavily.

"It's no use," he cried, at last. "I can't make them up. They are in a
hopeless muddle. I know, though, that I can't raise a thousand cents,
much less a thousand dollars, and the builder threatens to make me
bankrupt, if I don't pay at once."

"Bankrupt, John!" his wife murmured, languidly raising her brows. "You
are exaggerating."

"No, my dear. The truth must be faced. Pressure is being applied in every
direction. I signed a note, making myself security for the building of
the Mission-room. And here are other threats of suits. I already have
judgments against me, that they may try to satisfy at any moment. Why,
even our furniture may be seized! And this man declares that he will make
me bankrupt. It's a horrible position--bad enough for any man, fatal for
a clergyman. We've staved off the crash for about as long as we can.--And
I'm tired of it all!"

He flung the account-book from him, and, brushing his gray hair from his
forehead in an agitated fashion, started up. His brow was moist, and his
hand trembled.

"Only a matter of a thousand dollars, John?" cried Mrs. Swinton, after
another puff from her cigarette. Then, glancing at the clock, she added:
"What a time they are getting the carriage ready! We shall be late.
Netty, go and see why they are so long." Netty slipped away.

"Mary, you must be late for once," cried the disturbed husband, striding
over to her. "We must talk this matter out."

She smiled up at him bewitchingly, and he melted, for he adored her
still.

"Father will have to pay the money," she