he son of an old friend of Mr. Denny's lamented wife, Mr. Belford had
been admitted to the house some months since as confidential clerk and
business man. He was a rather commonplace person, about thirty years of
age, and his education and manners were good if not remarkable. During
his residence with the Dennys he had found time to fall in love with
Alma, and they had been engaged--and with Mr. Denny's consent.

"Good morning, Lawrence. You're just in time for breakfast."

"Good morning, sir. Thank you, no. I have been to breakfast. I am just
up from the station."

"Seen anything of the railroad coach? The train is in, and it is time
for the coach to pass. Our guest may be in it."

"No, sir, but I saw the express coming up the hill with an extra large
load of baggage."

Just here Alma returned from the house bearing a large tray of plates
and breakfast things. The young people greet each other pleasantly, and
Alma proceeds to lay the table.

"Now for breakfast, father. Everything waits upon a good appetite. Will
you not join us, Lawrence?"

Mr. Belford replies that he has been to breakfast. Mr. Denny takes a cup
of coffee, and while sipping it remarks:

"How many more window-frames shall you require for the new mill,
Lawrence?"

"Ten more, sir. There is only a part of the fourth story unfinished."

"Alma, dear, do you remember how high we decided the new chimney was to
be? Yes, thank you, only two lumps of sugar. Thank you. You remember we
were talking about it when the Lawsons were here."

"Don't ask me. Ask Lawrence. I never can remember anything about such
matters."

Just at that moment the express pulled up at the gate, and there was a
knock. Alma rose hastily, and said:

"Oh! That must be Elmer."

She opened the gate, and young Mr. Elmer Franklin of New York entered. A
man to respect: an open, manly face, clear blue eyes, and a wiry,
compact, and vigorous frame. A man with a sound mind in a sound body. He
was dressed in a gray travelling suit, and had a knapsack strapped to
his back; in his hand a stout stick looking as if just cut from the
roadside, and at his side a field glass in a leather case. Immediately
behind him came a man bending under the load of an immense trunk. Alma
smiled her best, and the young stranger bowed gallantly.

"Mr. Denny, I presume?"

"Welcome, cousin Franklin," said Mr. Denny from his chair. "I knew you
at once, though it is years since any members of our families ha