res.

Suddenly, as if moved by a steel spring, Mrs. Culpeper rose. "I know you
have a great deal of influence over Stephen," she said, "and I hoped
that, instead of encouraging him in his folly, you would sympathize with
me."

"I do sympathize with you, Cousin Harriet--only I have learned that it
is sometimes very difficult to decide what is folly and what is wisdom
in a man's life."

"There can scarcely be a doubt, I think, about this. Surely you cannot
imagine that there would be happiness for my son in a marriage with the
daughter of Gideon Vetch?"

There was a dreamy sweetness in Corinna's eyes. "I can't answer that,
Cousin Harriet, because I don't know. But are you sure it has gone as
far as that? Has Stephen really thought of marriage?"

"I don't know. He tells me nothing," replied Mrs. Culpeper hopelessly,
and she added after a pause: "But I can't help having eyes. It is either
that--or he is going into politics." Her tone was as despairing as if
she had said, "he is coming down with fever."

For a minute Corinna hesitated; then she responded cheerfully, "If it
is any comfort to you, Cousin Harriet, I feel that you are making a
mountain out of a mole hill. When it comes to the point, I believe that
Stephen will revert to type like the rest of us."

Mrs. Culpeper clutched desperately at the straw that was offered her.
"You think he won't ask her to marry him?"

"If he does," said Corinna firmly, "I shall be more surprised than I
have ever been in my life."

The look of martyrdom faded slowly from her visitor's features. "You say
this because you know Stephen?"

"Because I know Stephen--and men," answered Corinna, while she thought
of John Benham. "Frankly, I think it would be a splendid thing for
Stephen to do. It would prove, you know, that he cared enough to make a
sacrifice. I think it would be splendid; but I think also that we are of
the breed that looks too long before it leaps. Our great adventures take
place in dreams or in talk. We like to play with forlorn hopes; but the
only forlorn hope we have actually embraced is the conservative
principle; and we couldn't let that go, even if we tried, because it is
bred in our bone. So I believe that the ^hereditary habit will drag
Stephen safely back before he rushes into danger. He may play with the
thought of Patty, but he will probably marry Margaret."

If Mrs. Culpeper's too refined features could have expressed passion, it
would have been the pa