rt his lady-love while he was in
college? And it means giving up his music," he added.

"If he makes as much out of his renunciation as you have out of yours,"
she said, calmly, "we may bless this poor woman yet."

"Oh, you old humbug," he told her--but he smiled.

Then she repeated to him an old, old formula for peace; "'Consider the
stars,' Henry, and young foolishness will seem very small. Maurice's
elopement won't upset the universe."

They were both silent for a while; then Mary Houghton said, "I'll write
the invitation to them; but you must second it when you answer his
letter."

"Invitation? What invitation?"

"Why, to come and stay at Green Hill until you can find something for
him to do."

"I'll be hanged if I invite her! I'll have nothing to do with her!
Maurice can come, of course; but he can't bring--"

His wife laughed, and he, too, gave a reluctant chuckle. "I suppose I've
got to?" he groaned.

"_Of course_, you've got to!" she said.

The rest of the ride back to the old stone house among its great trees,
halfway up the mountain, was silent. Mrs. Houghton was thinking what
room she would give the bride and groom--for the little room Maurice had
had in all his vacations since he became her husband's ward was not
suitable. "Edith will have to let them have her room," she thought. She
knew she could count on Edith not to make a fuss. "It's such a comfort
that Edith has sense," she ruminated aloud.

But her husband was silent; there was no more whistling for Henry
Houghton that day.

CHAPTER III

Edith and her fourteen-year-old neighbor, Johnny Bennett, had climbed
into the old black-heart cherry tree--(Johnny always conceded that Edith
was a good climber--"for a girl.") But when they saw Lion, tugging up
the road, Edith, who was economical with social amenities, told her
guest to go home. "I don't want you any longer," she said; "father and
mother are coming!" And with that she rushed around to the stable door,
just in time to meet the returning travelers, and ask a dozen
questions--the first:

"_Did_ you get a letter from Maurice?"

But when her father threw the reins down on Lion's back, and said,
briefly, "Can't you unharness him yourself, Buster?" she stuck out her
tongue, opened her eyes wide, and said nothing except, "Yes, father."
Then she proceeded, with astonishing speed, to put Lion into his stall,
run the buggy into the carriage house, and slam the stable door, after
wh