at all the human virtues are about to be buried--I should say
sown--in that wheatfield. A few will still survive, and creep about
above the Doctor's grave. Listen to a story just told me, and
disbelieve--if you dare--in human gratitude. Do you see that
picturesque young ruffian over there?"

Maruja did not lift her eyes. She felt herself breathlessly hanging on
the speaker's next words.

"Why, that's the young man of the fonda, who picked up your fan," said
Carroll, "isn't it?"

"Perhaps," said Maruja, indifferently. She would have given worlds to
have been able to turn coldly and stare at him at that moment with the
others, but she dared not. She contented herself with softly brushing
some dust from Captain Carroll's arm with her fan and a feminine
suggestion of tender care which thrilled that gentleman.

"Well," continued Raymond, "that Robert Macaire over yonder came here
some three or four days ago as a tramp, in want of everything but
honest labor. Our lamented friend consented to parley with him, which
was something remarkable in the Doctor; still more remarkable, he gave
him a suit of clothes, and, it is said, some money, and sent him on his
way. Now, more remarkable than all, our friend, on hearing of his
benefactor's death, actually tramps back here to attend his funeral.
The Doctor being dead, his executors not of a kind to emulate the
Doctor's spasmodic generosity, and there being no chance of future
favors, the act must be recorded as purely and simply gratitude. By
Jove! I don't know but that he is the only one here who can be called a
real mourner. I'm here because your sister is here; Carroll comes
because YOU do, and you come because your mother can not."

"And who tells you these pretty stories?" asked Maruja, with her face
still turned towards Carroll.

"The foreman, Harrison, who, with an extensive practical experience of
tramps, was struck with this exception to the general rule."

"Poor man; one ought to do something for him," said Amita,
compassionately.

"What!" said Raymond, with affected terror, "and spoil this perfect
story? Never! If I should offer him ten dollars, I'd expect him to
kick me; if he took it, I'd expect to kick HIM."

"He is not so bad-looking, is he, Maruja?" asked Amita of her sister.
But Maruja had already moved a few paces off with Carroll, and seemed
to be listening to him only. Raymond smiled at the pretty perplexity
of Amita's eyebrows over this pro