into his house must
certainly be clear to the reader. In the first place, he was under very
heavy obligations to Jethro Bass for many favors; in the second place,
Mr. Merrill had a real affection for Jethro, which, strange as it may
seem to some, was quite possible; and in the third place, Mr. Merrill had
taken a fancy to Cynthia, and he had never forgotten the unintentional
wrong he had done William Wetherell. Mr. Merrill was a man of impulses,
and generally of good impulses. Had he not himself urged upon Jethro the
arrangement, it would never have come about. Lastly, he had invited
Cynthia to his house that his wife might inspect her, and Mrs. Merrill's
verdict had been instant and favorable--a verdict not given in words. A
single glance was sufficient, for these good people so understood each
other that Mrs. Merrill had only to raise her eyes to her husband's, and
this she did shortly after the supper party began; while she was pouring
the coffee, to be exact. Thus the compact that Cynthia was to spend the
winter in their house was ratified.

There was, first of all, the parting with Jethro and the messages with
which he and Ephraim were laden for the whole village and town of
Coniston. It was very hard, that parting, and need not be dwelt upon.
Ephraim waved his blue handkerchief as the train pulled out, but Jethro
stood on the platform, silent and motionless: more eloquent in his
sorrow--so Mr. Merrill thought--than any human being he had ever known.
Mr. Merrill wondered if Jethro's sorrow were caused by this parting
alone; he believed it was not, and suddenly guessed at the true note of
it. Having come by chance upon the answer to the riddle, Mr. Merrill
stood still with his hand on the carriage door and marvelled that he had
not seen it all sooner. He was a man to take to heart the troubles of his
friends. A subtle change had indeed come over Jethro, and he was not the
same man Mr. Merrill had known for many years. Would others, the men with
whom Jethro contended and the men he commanded, mark this change? And
what effect would it have on the conflict for the mastery of a state
which was to be waged from now on?

"Father," said his daughter Susan, "if you don't get in and close the
door, we'll drive off and leave you standing on the sidewalk."

Thus Cynthia went to her new friends in their own carriage. Mrs. Merrill
was goodness itself, and loved the girl for what she was. How, indeed,
was she to help loving h