indeed,' isn't she? Seems to me that I'd learn something else."

"She's hardly so tiresome with her 'Yes, indeed,' as her father is
with his 'Hah, hah, my dear Mr. Witherspoon,'" Henry replied.

"But he is a very old man, my son," said Mrs. Witherspoon, "and you
must excuse him. I have heard that he was quite aristocratic before
the war."

"Oh, he never was aristocratic," Ellen declared. "Aristocracy hampered
by extreme stinginess would cut but a poor figure, I should think."

"Have we set up a grill here?" Henry asked.

Mrs. Witherspoon nodded at Ellen as if to emphasize the rebuke, and
the young woman exclaimed: "Oh, I'm singled out, am I? Who said that
the old man's 'hah, hah,' was tiresome? You'd better nod at your son,
mother."

But she gave her son never a nod. In her sight he surely could commit
no indiscretion. A moment later the mother asked:

"Have they talked to you again about going into the store?"

"Oh, they hint at it occasionally."

"Ellen, can't you find a chair? I know your brother must he tired."
Ellen got off the arm of Henry's chair, and soon afterward Mrs.
Witherspoon took the vacated place. The young woman laughed, but said
nothing. The mother fondly touched Henry's hair and smoothed it back
from his forehead. "Don't you let them worry you, my son. They can't
help but respect your manliness. Indeed," she added, growing strangely
bold for one so gentle, "must a man be a merchant whether he will or
not? And whenever you want to write about poor women, you do it. They
are mistreated; they are made wretched, and by just such men as
Brooks, too. What does he care for a woman's misery? And your father's
so blind that he doesn't see it. But I see it. And I oughtn't to say
it, but I will--he has the impudence to tell your father that I give
too much money to the poor. It's none of his business, I'm sure."

There was a peculiar softness in Henry's voice when he replied: "I
hope some time to catch him interfering with your affairs."

"Oh, but you mustn't say a word, my son--not a word; and I don't want
your father to know that I have said anything."

"He shall not know, but I hope some time to catch Brooks interfering
with your affairs. He has meddled with mine, but I can forgive that."

Henry walked up and down the room when Mrs. Witherspoon and Ellen were
gone. With a mother's love, that gentle woman had found a mother's
place in his heart. He looked at the rocking-chair. Suddenly he seize