laborious,
perhaps helpful life he had planned, the life of a Western forester,
living among the woods and mountains, studying the trees he loved,
learning the secrets of nature at first hand, teaching his beloved all
the little he knew, and learning more, a thousandfold more, from every
look of her eyes, every tone of her wonderful voice.

"Well--while he dreamed--something happened. Suddenly, by a wave of a
wand, as in the fairy tales, his maiden was transformed. Instead of the
orphan girl, working bravely with her brave hands to earn her bread, he
saw--a rich woman! saw the woman he loved condemned by the idle whim of
an idle pleasure-seeker to sit with folded hands, or play with toys and
trinkets. He was filled with rage; he hated the very sound of the word
money, because--it seemed to him that this money would rob him of his
darling. I--he--"

Hugh broke off suddenly. "I am the greatest fool in the world!" he said.
"Grace, do you understand me? Do you know what I am trying to say?"

It was the merest whisper that replied, "I don't--know--"

"Yes, you do." Hugh caught the slender hands, and held them close. "You
know, you must know, that I have cared for you ever since that first
wonderful moment, when you broke through the leaves like sunshine, and
I saw the face I had dreamed of all my life. You must have felt it, all
these weeks. Oh, Margaret is right, I suppose. All she says is true
enough; if you can help this poor woman by taking her wretched money, I
suppose you will have to do it. But--but I lose my princess, before ever
I could win her. I can't ask a rich woman to be my wife."

While Hugh was speaking, Grace's head had drooped lower and lower, as if
she shrank under the weight that was laid upon her; but now she looked
up bravely, with a lovely light in her eyes. "Can't you, Hugh?" she
said. "It's a pity you can't, Hugh, because--you could have her for the
asking."

CHAPTER XVIII.

UNCLE JOHN'S BIRTHDAY

If Timothy Bannan has had scant mention in these pages, it is not
because he was not an important personage at Fernley. King of the
stable, governor of the dogs, chief authority on all matters pertaining
to what Gerald called "four-leggers," he was as much a part of the
establishment as Frances herself. In person he was a small man, with
reddish-gray whiskers, an obstinate chin, and a kindly twinkling eye. He
usually wore a red waistcoat with black sleeves, and he was suspected of
matrimo