in you; and, by George! Phillida, there is no better in anybody that
lives than there is in you."

This enthusiastic commendation, so unexpected by Phillida, who had felt
herself in some sense under the ban of her family, brought to the
parched and thirsty heart the utmost refreshment. She trembled visibly,
and tears appeared in her eyes.

"Thank you, Philip. I know the praise is not deserved, but your kindness
does me no end of good."

Mrs. Gouverneur came in at this moment. Phillida's eyes and Philip's
constraint showed her that something confidential had passed between
them, and she congratulated herself on the success of her plan, though
she could not divine the nature of the conversation. Phillida would not
be a brilliant match for Philip in a worldly point of view, but it had
long been a ruling principle with Mrs. Gouverneur that whatever Philip
wanted he was to have, if it were procurable, and as the husband of such
a woman as Phillida he ought to be a great deal happier than in mousing
among old books and moping over questions that nobody could solve.
Besides, Phillida possessed one qualification second to no other in Mrs.
Gouverneur's opinion--there could be no question that her family was a
first-rate one, at least upon the mother's side. The intrusion of a
third person at this moment produced a little constraint. To relieve
this Mrs. Gouverneur felt bound to talk of something.

"I scold Philip for wasting his time over old books and such trifles,"
she said to Phillida. "I wish you could persuade him out of it."

"Trifles!" exclaimed Philip. "Trifles are the only real consolation of
such beings as we are. They keep us from being crushed by the
immensities. If we were to spend our time chiefly about the momentous
things, life would become unendurable."

The conversation drifted to indifferent subjects, and Philip talked with
an unwonted gayety that caused Phillida to forget her anxieties, while
Mrs. Gouverneur wondered what change had come over her son that he
should feel so much elation. The confidence and affection that Phillida
had exhibited while conversing with him this evening consoled Philip for
the misery of having to live, and his cheerfulness lasted throughout her
visit. At its close he walked towards her home, with her hand upon his
arm, in an atmosphere of hope which he had not been accustomed to
breathe. At the door Phillida said:

"Good-night, Cousin Philip. Thank you for the kind advice y