lves in a finer symmetry, her color grew richer, her figure
promised a perfect womanly development, and her movements had the grace
which high-breeding gives the daughter of a queen, and which Nature now
and then teaches the humblest of village maidens. She could not long
escape the notice of the lovers and flatterers of beauty, and the time of
danger was drawing near.

At this period of her life she made two discoveries which changed the
whole course of her thoughts, and opened for her a new world of ideas and
possibilities.

Ever since the dreadful event of November, 1854, the garret had been a
fearful place to think of, and still more to visit. The stories that the
house was haunted gained in frequency of repetition and detail of
circumstance. But Myrtle was bold and inquisitive, and explored its
recesses at such times as she could creep among them undisturbed. Hid
away close under the eaves she found an old trunk covered with dust and
cobwebs. The mice had gnawed through its leather hinges, and, as it had
been hastily stuffed full, the cover had risen, and two or three volumes
had fallen to the floor. This trunk held the papers and books which her
great-grandmother, the famous beauty, had left behind her, records of the
romantic days when she was the belle of the county,--storybooks, memoirs,
novels, and poems, and not a few love-letters,--a strange collection,
which, as so often happens with such deposits in old families, nobody had
cared to meddle with, and nobody had been willing to destroy, until at
last they had passed out of mind, and waited for a new generation to
bring them into light again.

The other discovery was of a small hoard of coin. Under one of the
boards which formed the imperfect flooring of the garret was hidden an
old leather mitten. Instead of a hand, it had a fat fist of silver
dollars, and a thumb of gold half-eagles.

Thus knowledge and power found their way to the simple and secluded
maiden. The books were hers to read as much as any other's; the gold and
silver were only a part of that small provision which would be hers by
and by, and if she borrowed it, it was borrowing of herself. The tree of
the knowledge of good and evil had shaken its fruit into her lap, and,
without any serpent to tempt her, she took thereof and did eat.

CHAPTER IV.

BYLES GRIDLEY, A. M.

The old Master of Arts was as notable a man in his outside presentment as
one will find among five hundre