m the library, and she emerged from the interview with a
more contented heart than she had known for a year.

She endeavored to convey the situation to her mother in detail, but when
that lady had learned that there were no happy surprises, she declined
to listen.

"Tastes differ, Eloise," she said. "I am one who believes that where
ignorance is bliss 'tis folly to be wise." Mrs. Evringham had regained a
quite light-hearted appearance in the interest of expending a portion of
her windfall on her own and Eloise's summer wardrobe.

"Well, you shan't be bothered then," returned her daughter. "You have me
to take care of our money matters."

"I prefer to let father do it," returned Mrs. Evringham decidedly. "He
is a changed being of late, and we are as well situated as we could hope
to be. I don't feel quite satisfied with the lining of the brougham, but
some day I mean to speak of it."

Eloise threw up both hands, but she laughed. She and her grandfather had
an excellent understanding, and she knew that the mills of the gods were
about to grind.

One evening the broker called his daughter-in-law into the library.

"I hope it isn't on business," she remarked flippantly as she entered.
"I tell you right at the start, father, I can't understand it." Her eyes
wandered about the room curiously. It was strange to her. She took up a
woman's picture from the desk. "Who is this?" she asked.

"How do you like the face?" he returned.

The dark eyes and sweet mouth looked back at her. She frowned slightly.
She did not like the situation in which she had found the photograph. It
was far too intimate for a stranger, and made her a little nervous.

"If he is going to marry again, then good-by indeed!" she thought.

"I think it is rather sentimental," she returned, with an air of
engaging candor, "don't you? Just my first impression, you know; but
it's a face I shouldn't trust. Who is it?"

"It is Jewel's mother," returned the broker quietly, "my daughter Julia.
Jewel brought it down last night, also a lot of little letters her
mother had put in the pockets of the child's dresses when she packed
them."

"Ah!" exclaimed Mrs. Evringham triumphantly. "Didn't I say she was
sentimental? About that sort of thing my perceptions are always so
keen."

"H'm. I read the letters, and I judged from them that one can trust her.
Will you be seated?" He placed a chair. "I should like to ask your plans
for the summer."

Mrs. Evringham l