turn, where she sank down on a bench. A rosy,
tired child, rather the worse for mud-pies, and hanging reluctantly at
the hand of its nonchalant nurse, brought a bit of the woman's emotion
to the surface. She smiled radiantly at the lagging infant.

The face revealed by the uplifted veil was of a type to accompany the
youthful but womanly figure and the spirited tread. Beautiful she
would be counted, without doubt, by many an observer; those who loved
her would call her beautiful without stint. But more appealing than
her beauty was the fine spirit--a strong, free spirit, loving honesty
and courage--which glowed like a flame behind her beauty. Best of all,
perhaps, was a touch of quaintness, a slightly comic twist to her lips,
an imperceptible alertness of manner, which revealed to the initiated
that she had a sense of humor in excellent running order.

It was evident that the little excursion was of the nature of a
pilgrimage. The idle hour, the bit of holiday, became a memorial, as
recollection brought back to her the days of childhood spent down
yonder, a few squares away, in this very city. They seemed bright in
retrospect, like the pleasant paths of a quiet garden, but they had
ended abruptly, and had been followed by years of activity and colorful
experience in another country. Through it all what anticipations had
been lodged in her return to Home! Something there would complete the
story--the story with its secret ecstasies and aspirations--the story
of the ardent springs of youth.

Withdrawing her gaze from the scene below, though with apparent
reluctance, she took from the pocket of her coat an opened envelope
which she regarded a moment with thoughtfulness, before drawing forth
the enclosures. There were two letters, one of which was brief and
written in bad script on a single sheet of paper bearing a legal head.
It was dated at Charlesport, Maine, and stated that the writer, in
conformity with the last wish of his friend and client, Hercules
Thayer, was ready to transfer certain deeds and papers to the late Mr.
Thayer's designated heir, Agatha Redmond; also that the writer
requested an interview at Miss Redmond's earliest convenience.

Holding the half-opened sheets in her hand, the lady closed her eyes
and sat motionless, as if in the grasp of an absorbing thought. With
the disappearing child, the signs of life on the hillside had
diminished. The traffic of the street passed far below, the sha