ws?

Time is not so all-erasing as we think. Old Katharine Vanhorn, at
seventy, heard from the young lips of her grandniece the name which had
not been mentioned in her presence for nearly half a century--the name
which still had power to rouse in her heart the old bitter feeling. For
John Pronando had turned from her to an uneducated common girl--a
market-gardener's daughter. The proud Kate Vanhorn resented the
defection instantly; she broke the bond of her betrothal, and sailed for
England before Pronando realized that she was offended. This idyl of the
gardener's daughter was but one of his passing amusements; and so he
wrote to his black-browed goddess. But she replied that if he sought
amusement of that kind during the short period of betrothal, he would
seek it doubly after marriage, and _then_ it would not be so easy to
sail for Europe. She considered that she had had an escape. Pronando,
handsome, light-hearted, and careless, gave up his offended Juno without
much heartache, and the episode of Phyllis being by this time finished,
he strayed back to his Philadelphia home, to embroil himself as usual
with his family, and, later, to follow out the course ordained for him
by fate. Kate Vanhorn had other suitors; but the old wound never healed.

"Come and spend the summer with me," said Helen. "I trust I am as
agreeable as the dragon."

"No; I must stay here. Even as it is, she is doing a great deal for me;
I have no real claim upon her," replied Anne, trying not to give way to
the loneliness that oppressed her.

"Only that of being her nearest living relative, and natural heir."

"I have not considered the question of inheritance," replied the island
girl, proudly.

"I know you have not; yet it is there. Old ladies, however, instead of
natural heirs, are apt to prefer unnatural ones--cold-blooded Societies,
Organizations, and the endless Heathen. But I am in earnest about the
summer, Crystal: spend it with me."

"You are always generous to me," said Anne, gratefully.

"No; I never was generous in my life. I do not know how to be generous.
But this is the way it is: I am rich; I want a companion; and I like
_you_. Your voice supports mine perfectly, and is not in the least too
loud--a thing I detest. Besides, we look well together. You are an
excellent background for me; you make me look poetic; whereas most women
make me look like a caricature of myself--of what I really am. As though
a straw-bug should go