ver."

"Supposing you both had an opportunity--for
it must be both, or neither, I judge--and
the powers that be consented--how about
going away to school this winter?"

Hilary dropped the reins. "Oh!" she
cried, "you mean--"

"I have a trick of meaning what I say," her
uncle said, smiling at her.

"I wish I could say--what I want to--and
can't find words for--" Hilary said.

"We haven't consulted the higher authorities
yet, you know."

"And--Oh, I don't see how mother could
get on without us, even if--"

"Mothers have a knack at getting along
without a good many things--when it means
helping their young folks on a bit,"
Mr. Shaw remarked. "I'll have a talk with her
and your father to-night."

That evening, pacing up and down the
front veranda with his brother, Mr. Shaw
said, with his customary abruptness, "You
seem to have fitted in here, Phil,--perhaps, you
were in the right of it, after all. I take it
you haven't had such a hard time, in some ways."

The minister did not answer immediately.
Looking back nearly twenty years, he told
himself, that he did not regret that early
choice of his. He had fitted into the life here;
he and his people had grown together. It had
not always been smooth sailing and more than
once, especially the past year or so, his
narrow means had pressed him sorely, but on the
whole, he had found his lines cast in a
pleasant place, and was not disposed to rebel
against his heritage.

"Yes," he said, at last, "I have fitted in;
too easily, perhaps. I never was ambitious,
you know."

"Except in the accumulating of books," his
brother suggested.

The minister smiled. "I have not been
able to give unlimited rein even to that mild
ambition. Fortunately, the rarer the
opportunity, the greater the pleasure it brings
with it--and the old books never lose their charm."

Mr. Paul Shaw flicked the ashes from his
cigar. "And the girls--you expect them to
fit in, too?"

"It is their home." A note the elder
brother knew of old sounded in the younger
man's voice.

"Don't mount your high horse just yet,
Phil," he said. "I'm not going to rub you up
the wrong way--at least, I don't mean to; but
you were always an uncommonly hard chap to
handle--in some matters. I grant you, it is
their home and not a had sort of home for a
girl to grow up in." Mr. Shaw stood for a
moment at the head of the steps, looking off
down the peaceful, shadowy street. It had
been a plea