ble to return the twenty dollars to Mr. Kennedy. The
newspapers kept him busy and while the returns were--so far--small, he
was hopeful. He felt that he had made a beginning, and that the future
promised well. His work was praised and he became something of a
lion--the doors of many a proud Baltimore home opening graciously to his
touch.

He cared little for general society, however. His greatest pleasure he
found in his evenings with the Kennedys (for Mrs. Kennedy had taken him
in as promptly as her husband) or in a canter far into the country on
the saddle horse which Mr. Kennedy, noting his pallor and thinking that
out-door exercise would be of benefit to him, kindly placed at his
disposal, or in walks in the fields and lanes beyond the city with his
new chum Wilmer. Many a fine afternoon saw these two cronies, often
accompanied by the sprite, Virginia, with her airy movements and vivid
beauty, rambling in the suburbs, and beyond, with heads close in
intimate communion of thought and fancy.

What he enjoyed most of all was the time spent at his desk, in the
shelter of the new-found haven of rest, with the happy "Muddie" and
"Sissy" nearby.

This little family circle was unique. There was an unmistakably oak-like
element in the nature of the widow which was apparent to some degree
even in her outward appearance, in the stateliness and dignity of her
figure and carriage--an element of sturdiness and self-reliance which
made it her pleasure to be clung to, looked up to, leaned upon. The
character of her new-found son was, on the contrary, vine-like. He was
constantly reaching out tendrils of craving for love, for appreciation,
for understanding. More--for advice, for guidance. Such tendrils seeking
a foot-hold, make a strong appeal to every womanly woman. She sees in
them a call to her nobility of soul, to the mother that is a part of her
spiritual nature--a call that gives her pleasant good-angel sensations,
that soften her heart and flatter her self-esteem. To the Widow Clemm,
with her self-reliance and her highly developed maternal instinct, the
appeal was irresistible and between her and The Dreamer the ivy and oak
relation was promptly established, while in the little Virginia he found
a heartsease blossom to be loved and sheltered by both--the loveliest of
heartsease blossoms whose beauty, whose purity and innocence and the
stored sweets of whose nature were all for him.

The three lived, indeed, for each othe