that prize--and it's true, you know, he did get it; that's
what they married on, and he thought he could get plenty more that
way, and then he never sold another story. It was too bad. He's a
real gentleman, though you might not think it to look at him now,
not shaved, and all. He thought he could earn a thousand every week,
I s'pose, poor fellow. He got work in a department store, fin'ly,
and it took all he made to bury her. She was a sweet little thing,
but soft. I was real sorry for 'em."

She wiped her eyes hastily.

"Do you know whether he went to Harvard?" Caroline inquired, in a
business-like tone.

The woman was heating some milk in a bottle, over a lamp, and did
not answer her, but a voice from the door brought her sharply
around. The young man stood there. Though still unshaven, he was
otherwise quite changed. His hair was parted neatly, his coat
brushed, his face no longer flushed, but pale and composed.

"If your extraordinary question refers to me, yes, I went to
Harvard," he said in a grating, disagreeable voice. "I have in fact
been called a 'typical Harvard man.' But that was some time ago. May
I ask who you are?"

The woman lifted the bottle from the tin cup that held it and picked
up the baby; the young man shifted his eyes from her immediately and
looked persistently over Caroline's head.

"Her family's coachman's name is Hunt," said the woman, "and she
thought he lived here, she says. He'd no business to go off and
leave her alone. Her family'd be worried to death. When I go out
with the baby I'll take her. I suppose you haven't changed your mind
about the baby, Mr. Williston?--now you're feeling more like
yourself," she added.

"I cannot discuss that subject, Mrs. Ufford," the young man
answered, in his rasping, unnatural voice. "When you have disposed
of the matter along the lines you yourself suggested, I am at your
service till you take the train. After that--after that"--his lips
tightened in a disagreeable smile--"I may be able to get to
work--and win another prize!"

"There, there!" she cautioned him, "don't talk about that, Mr.
Williston, don't, now! Why don't you go out with the little girl and
see if you can find her automobile? That'll be less for me to do.
Why don't you?"

He turned, muttering something about his hat, but Caroline tugged at
his coat.

"Wait, wait!" she urged him, "I want you to tell her to let me take
the baby! If you went to Harvard, that's all Cousin Ric