a long walk home, but in those days, when there were neither cars
nor cabs, people were used to walking, and the two men would not mind
it. Betty could drive Jack by night or day, as he was a sure-footed,
steady-going animal, and for a distance the road was straight up Beacon
Street.

"Some day I will come up and take you out to see a little more of your
new home," said Uncle Winthrop to Doris. "When does she go to school,
Elizabeth?"

"Why, I thought it would be as well for her to begin next week. From
eight to twelve. And she is so young there is no real need of her
beginning other things. Betty can teach her to sew and do embroidery."

"There is her French. It would be a pity to drop that."

"She might teach me French for the sake of the exercise," returned Betty
laughingly when Uncle Win looked so perplexed.

"To be sure. We will get it all settled presently." He felt rather
helpless where a girl was concerned, yet when he glanced down into her
soft, wistful eyes he wished somehow that she was living here. But it
would be lonely for a child.

Warren brought Jack around and helped in the womenkind when they had
said all their good-nights, and Uncle Wrin added that he would be over
some evening next week to supper.

It was a clear night, but there was no moon. Jack tossed up his head and
trotted along, with the common on one side of him.

Boston had been improving very much in the last decade, and stretching
herself out a little. But it was quite country-like where Uncle Win
lived. He liked the quiet and the old house, the great trees and his
garden that gave him all kinds of vegetables and some choice fruit,
though he never did anything more arduous than to superintend it and
enjoy the fruits of Jonas Starr's labor.

CHAPTER V

A MORNING AT SCHOOL

Our ancestors for some occult reason held early rising in high esteem.
Why burning fire and candle light in the morning, when everything was
cold and dreary, should look so much more virtuous and heroic than
sitting up awhile at night when the house was warm and everything
pleasant, is one of the mysteries to be solved only by the firm belief
that the easy, comfortable moments were the seasons especially
susceptible to temptation, and that sacrifice and austerity were the
guide-posts on the narrow way to right living.

Mr. and Mrs. Leverett had been reared in that manner. They had softened
in many ways, and Betty was often told, "I had no such indul