r
you to come in a coach-and-four--did we not, Miriam? For I suppose you
have secured your heritage, since you are here again. It is a great
thing to possess riches--and a great responsibility. Come, let us have
tea and not think of such things. Yes--yes. Let us forget that such a
thing as a heritage ever came between us--eh, Miriam?"

And with a gesture of old-world politeness he stood aside for his niece
to pass first into the dining-room, whither a servant had preceded them
with a lamp.

"It will not be hard to do that," replied Miriam, steadily, "because he
tells me that he has not yet secured it."

"All in good time--all in good time," said Marvin, with that faith in
some occult power, seemingly the Government and Providence working
in conjunction, to which parsons and many women confide their worldly
affairs and sit with folded hands.

He asked many questions which were easy enough to answer; for he had
no worldly wisdom himself, and did not look for it in other people. And
then he related his own adventure--the great incident of his life--his
visit to Paris.

"A matter of business," he explained. "Some duplicates--one or two of
my prints which I had decided to part with. Miriam also wished me to see
into some small money matters of her own. Her guardian, John Turner, you
may remember, resides in Paris. A schoolfellow of my own, by the way.
But our ways diverged later in life. I found him unchanged--a kind
heart--always a kind heart. He attempts to conceal it, as many do, under
a flippant, almost a profane, manner of speech. Brutum fulmen. But I saw
through it--I saw through it."

And the rector beamed on Loo through his spectacles with an innocent
delight in a Christian charity which he mistook for cunning.

"You see," he went on, "we have spent a little money on the rectory.
To-morrow you will see that we have made good the roof of the church.
One could not ask the villagers to contribute, knowing that the children
want boots and scarcely know the taste of jam. Yes, John Turner was very
kind to me. He found me a buyer for one of my prints."

The rector broke off with a sharp sigh and drank his tea.

"We shall never miss it," he added, with the hopefulness of those
who can blind themselves to facts. "Come, tell me your impressions of
France."

"I have been there before," replied Loo, with a curtness so unusual as
to make Miriam glance at him. "I have been there before, you know. It
would be more inte