this, and that is one induced by the
knowledge of the great power of gold. Mr. Hanson was a man of wealth and
good business relations. Liking Hal for himself, and interested in his
art, it was easy for him to open many doors for the entrance of his
work. Mr. Benton was a help to Hal in his art, and his reward was
immediate almost, for Hal had told me Will's pieces had never been
appreciated as now. It was astonishing, too, how many people had money
to buy these expensive treasures,--but the sea was smooth.

"Every shingle on the house paid for," said Aunt Hildy; "aint that the
beginning that ought to end well?"

And now the road of the future lay, as a fair meadowland, whose flowers
and grasses should be gathered through the years. Truly life is
strangely mixed.

The look of perplexing anxiety had vanished from my father's face, for
with Hal's prospects his own had grown bright, and you cannot know how
Clara lifted him along, as it were; paying well and promptly and saving
in so many ways, was a wondrous help to a farmer's family. There was
also the prospect of a new street being opened through the centre of the
town, and if my father wished he could sell building lots on one side of
it, for it would run along the edge of his land.

"Trouble don't never come single-handed, neither does prosperity, Mr.
Minot," said Aunt Hildy.

"Love's Fawn" was a famous little housekeeper, everything was in good
order, and I certainly found a well-spring of joy in the society of
these two. If Mary needed any extra help, Hal said, "Emily will do it."
This was a very welcome change from the old saying.

Ben was a daily visitor, and spoke of sister Mary with great pride. He
was a good boy and willing. Hal felt anxious to help him, if he desired
it, by giving him more schooling, but he was a farmer born, and his
greatest ambition was to own a farm and have a saw mill. He went to the
village school, and had as good an education as that could give, for he
was not dull. I was glad for his sake he liked farming; it seemed to me
a true farmer ought to be happy. Golden and crimson leaves were
fluttering down from the forest trees, for October had come upon us and
nearly gone, and while all prospects for living were full of cheer, I
felt a great wonder creeping over me, and with it, fear. Louis had said
no word to me as yet, and could it be he had forgotten the year was at
an end? Surely not. Could his mind have changed? Oh, how this fear