--then?"

"Yes, Mary. He is to live here if he will. Do you know how early the
stores are open in the morning?"

"Oh! along about eight o'clock, ma'am, I think."

"Call me at seven, if you do not hear me stirring before. I suppose
Jefferson could hardly have the horse ready so early?"

"He'd think it a great hardship, ma'am, and he'd be cross as two
sticks all day after."

"Yes, I suppose he would. I wish people were born without tempers."

"'Twould be a fine thing," assented the housemaid, recalling some
occasions when Miss Lucy had been a little "sharp" herself.

"Well, you may go now. No; I shall need nothing more. I am going up
into the storeroom to look over some trunks. In the morning I will
take a car down-town and we'll have a late breakfast afterward.
Good-night."

"Good-night, ma'am. But I'm thinking I wouldn't count too much on the
cars being early to-morrow, ma'am. It's a regular blizzard snowing,
and the tracks are getting blocked."

"Humph! that's always the way. After our admitting the railway on this
avenue the company run their cars to suit themselves, not our
convenience. Because I happen to need a car in the morning, they will,
of course, not be running. Well, I must not be unjust. I suppose they
lose more by stopping than I do by having them stop."

Miss Armacost climbed to the storeroom at the back of the top of her
house. In this room were rows of trunks and boxes, and two big
wardrobes hung full of cast-off clothing. The garments had belonged to
dead and gone Armacosts, of various ages, and after some hesitation
the lady knelt before one leather-covered chest that bore the initials
"L. A." painted in red upon its cover.

"He was a dear little boy!" sighed Miss Lucy, as she turned a key and
raised the lid. "My only brother's only son. Well, brother was always
a generous fellow, and he had less of family pride than most of us. I
mean of the silly kind of pride. He wouldn't do anything to disgrace
his name, but he--well, he fancied the Armacosts were not the only
people in the world! He used to say: 'It doesn't matter about birth,
so long as a man is a "gentleman,"' and 'gentleman,' in his mind,
meant everything that was brave and strong and noble. I believe that,
dearly as he loved his boy, he would be pleased to have these useless
garments do somebody some good. I've often thought of giving away a
lot of the things up here, yet could never quite make up my mind to do
it. Now the Lord