nd
entire that the girl should forget her restless yearnings; baby hands to
cling to her, baby lips to press, young lives to mould, and a future to
plan for others.

Miss Barry believed in work devoutly, but gentlewomen had a firm place
in her creed. The paintings and music were well enough as
accomplishments, and she was proud of them; but she delicately repressed
the other dreams and desires until Sylvie ceased to speak of them except
to her friend Jack.

Miss Barry had experienced some anxiety on this point, it must be
confessed. You would never have perceived it from the wise little
woman's face or any tone of her voice. She went more frequently to the
Darcys of an evening with Sylvie: she rolled her easy-chair and
work-table to the opposite side of the sitting-room, where it commanded
a view of the piano and the sofa in the parlor, the door being always
open. She could hear and see, she could make pleasant, trenchant
remarks: indeed, she was one of themselves, as young in heart, if the
hair did glisten silvery under the bit of exquisite thread-lace that did
duty as an apology for a cap.

Jack and Sylvie were not lovers. A rare good friendship it was, more
perfect than brotherly and sisterly regard, in that it held no
duty-element, and was spontaneous. Sylvie never laughed at Jack in his
awkward boyish days: he had never tormented her small belongings as
brothers are wont to do.

Miss Barry feared the flame might be easily fanned. A little opposition
or warning would bring Sylvie's innocent wandering thoughts to a focus,
and kindle the fire. She was very wary. She trusted Sylvie to Jack with
an air that said, "You are too honorable to betray the confidence I
repose in you."

The old class prejudice spoke out in this covert objection to Jack as
a suitor. She honored him sincerely for giving up the dreams of
ambitious and energetic manhood to stay at home and comfort these two
delicate women. Yet (strange contradiction) she had a half fancy that it
betokened weakness or lack of some kind in the very content with which
he seemed to go about his daily duties. Alas for consistency! We preach
content from the pulpit on Sunday, and on Monday glance with quiet
contempt on our plodding neighbor, who can commune with the daisies by
the wayside, while there is gold lying untroubled in desert gulches.

Honest, sturdy Jack, taking up the duty of to-day cheerfully with a
manful endurance, because the hands holding his fat