n all her
life she had never known him to seem to have any mind before except what
grooved in with Aunt Jerry's commanding mind. Yet, surprised as she was,
she involuntarily drew nearer to him as to one whom she could trust.

"We agreed long ago, Jim and I did, when Jim was a rich man, that some
day you must be shown that you were his child as well as Lesa's--I mean
that you mustn't always be a dependent spender. You must get some Swaim
notions of living, too. Not that either of us ever criticized your
mother's sweet spirit and her ideal-building and love of adventure.
Romance belongs to some lives and keeps them young and sweet if they
live to be a million. I'm not down on it like your Aunt Jerry is."

Romance had steered wide away from Cornelius Darby's colorless days. And
possibly only this once in the sweet stillness of the June twilight at
"Eden" did that hungering note ever sound in his voice, and then only
for a brief space.

"Jim would have told you all this himself if he had got his affairs
untangled in time. And he'd have done that, for he had a big brain and a
big heart, but God went and took him. He did. Don't rebel always, Jerry.
God was good to him--you'll see it some day and quit your ugly
doubting."

Who ever called anything ugly about Jerry Swaim before? That a creature
like Cornelius Darby should do it now was one of the strange,
unbelievable things of this world.

"I just wanted to say again," Uncle Cornie continued, "if I go first
you'd be Jerusha's heir. We agreed to that long ago. That is, if you
don't cross her wishes and start her to make a will against you, as
she'd do if you didn't obey her to the last letter in the alphabet. If I
go after she does, the property all goes by law to distant relatives of
mine. That was fixed before I ever got hold of it--heirs of some
spendthrifts who would have wasted it long ago if they'd lived and had
it themselves."

The sound of voices and Eugene Wellington's light laughter came faintly
from the lily-pond.

"Eugene is a good fellow," Uncle Cornie said, meditatively. "He's got
real talent and he'll make a name for himself some day that will be
stronger, and do more good, and last longer than the man's name that's
just rated gilt-edged security on a note, and nowhere else. Gene will
make a decent living, too, independent of any aunts and uncles. But he's
no stronger-willed, nor smarter, nor better than you are, Jerry, even if
he is a bit more religious