tened him, for the time,
into propriety. He exhibited none of the stormy and impetuous grief
which a warm-hearted and affectionate boy would have been likely to
exhibit. It was not in his nature.

When he and his mother were left alone, he showed his resemblance to
her, by asking:

"Do you know how much property father left?"

"I don't know. He never told me about his affairs as he ought. I think
he must have left near a hundred thousand dollars."

Godfrey's eyes sparkled.

"That's a pile of money," he said. "It goes to me, don't it?"

"To us," said Mrs. Preston.

"A woman doesn't need so much money as a man," said Godfrey,
selfishly.

"You are not a man yet," said his mother, dryly. "Your father may have
left a will. In that case, he may have left a part of his property to
others."

"Do you think he has?" inquired Godfrey, in alarm.

"I don't think any will will be found," said his mother, quietly. "He
never spoke to me of making one."

"Of course not. That wouldn't be fair, would it?"

"It is fitting that the property should all go to us."

"When shall I get mine?"

"When you are twenty-one."

"That's a long time to wait," said Godfrey, grumblingly.

"You are only a boy yet. I shall probably be your guardian."

"I hope you'll give me a larger allowance than father did."

"I will."

"Must I go back to boarding school? I don't want to."

"If I go to Boston to live, as I think I shall, I will take you with
me, and you can go to school there."

"That'll be jolly," said Godfrey, his eyes sparkling with
anticipation. "I've got tired of this miserable town."

"So have I," said his mother. "We shall have more privileges in
Boston."

"I can go to the theater as often as I please there, can't I?"

"We will see about that."

"How soon shall we move to the city?"

"As soon as business will allow. I must settle up your father's
affairs here."

"Can't I go beforehand?"

"Would you leave me alone?" asked his mother, with a little touch of
wounded affection, for she did feel attached to her son. He was the
only one, indeed, for whom she felt any affection.

"You won't miss me, mother. It'll be awfully stupid here, and you know
you'll be coming to the city as soon as you get through with the
business."

Mrs. Preston was disappointed, but she should not have been surprised.
Her only son reflected her own selfishness.

"It would not look well for you to go to the theater just at the
present,"