e, settling
herself back quite composedly in her chair, while Carrie, turning to
her brother, asked "what he thought of 'Lena now."

"Just what I always did," he replied. "There's fraud somewhere.
Will you let me see that, sir?" advancing toward his father, who,
placing the letter in his hand, walked to the window to hide the
varied emotions of his face.

Rapidly John Jr. perused it, comprehending the whole then, when it
was finished, he seized his hat, and throwing it up in the air,
shouted, "Hurrah! Hurrah for _Miss 'Lena Rivers Graham_, daughter of
the Honorable Harry Rivers Graham. I was never so glad in my life.
Hurrah!" and again the hat went up, upsetting in its descent a costly
vase, the fragments of which followed in the direction of the hat, as
the young man capered about the room, perfectly insane with joy.

"Is the boy crazy?" asked Mrs. Livingstone, catching him by the coat
as he passed her, while Carrie attempted to snatch the letter from
his hand.

"Crazy?--yes," said he. "Who do you think 'Lena's father is? No
less a person than Mr. Graham himself. Now taunt her again, Cad,
with her low origin, if you like. She isn't coming here to live any
more. She's going to Woodlawn. She'll marry Durward, while you'll
be a cross, dried-up old maid, eh, Cad?" and he chucked her under the
chin, while she began to cry, bidding him let her alone.

"What do you mean?" interposed Mrs. Livingstone, trembling lest it
might be true.

"I will read the letter and you can judge for yourself," replied John.

Both Carrie and her mother were too much astonished to utter a
syllable, while, in their hearts, each hoped it would prove untrue.
Bending forward, grandma had listened eagerly, her dim eye lighting
up as she occasionally caught the meaning of what she heard; but she
could not understand it at once, and turning to her son, she said,
"What is it, John? what does it mean?"

As well as they could, Mr. Livingstone and John Jr. explained it to
her, and when at length she comprehended it, in her own peculiar way
she exclaimed, "Thank God that 'Leny is a lady, at last--as good as
the biggest on 'em. Oh, I wish Helleny had lived to know who her
husband was. Poor critter! Mebby he'll give me money to go back and
see the old place, once more, afore I die."

"If he don't I will," said Mr. Livingstone, upon which his wife, who
had not spoken before, wondered "where he'd get it."

By this time Carrie had comforted