n an old farm-house, single,
prudent, turning everything into money, and putting it into land. When
James died he left his business to his brother and his share of the
farm to Marcia. When William died the business went to his son James,
except the small share belonging to Stanwood.

James married a stylish young woman who never quite suited Aunt Marcia.
They lived in the new village in a pretentious house, and came out now
and then to the farm. There were five children, and the second girl was
named after the great-aunt, who dowered her with a hundred dollars, to
be put in the bank, and a handsome christening robe, then took no
further special notice of her.

But she liked Floyd, the eldest son, and he was never weary of roaming
about the old place and listening through the long evenings to matters
she had known of in England, and places she had seen.

"Aunt Marcia," he said one day, "just up on that ridge would be a
splendid place to build a castle. All the stone could be quarried out
around here. I wish you'd let me build it when I am a man."

She laughed a little, and took a good survey of the place.

Some days after she questioned her nephew about his plans.

"Bring Eugene up to the business," she said, briefly. "Four will be
enough for your purse. I will look after Floyd."

Miss Grandon might be queer and unsocial, but she was no niggard. All
the friends of her own day were gone, and she had no gift for making
new ones, but her grand-nephew grew into her heart.

His mother watched this with a curious jealousy.

"If she had only taken one of the girls! Marcia ought to belong there."

"Nonsense!" replied her husband. "It would be a dull home for a girl.
Let her have Floyd. The lad is fond of her, and she loves him. I never
knew her to love one of her own sex."

Floyd was sent to college, but the idea of the castle grew in Aunt
Marcia's brain. Towns and villages were spreading up the river, and one
day she was offered what seemed a fabulous sum for her old home of
rocky woodlands. She was still shrewd, if she had come to fourscore,
and offered them half, on her own terms, holding off with the most
provoking indifference until they came to an agreement. Then she
announced her intention of building a home for Floyd, who was to be her
heir.

"The property ought to be yours, James," Mrs. Grandon said, with some
bitterness. "Why should she set Floyd above all the rest?"

"My dear,--as if it really made any