-minded, as you might say. You try awfully
hard to think you don't believe in anything because just once in your
life Providence didn't work your way. You can't fool with your own
opinions against God Almighty and not lose in the deal. You'll have to
learn that some time. All of us do, sooner or later."

"But to take my father--all I had--after I had given up mother, I can't
see any justice nor any mercy in it," Jerry broke out.

Uncle Cornie was no comforter with words. He had had no chance to
practise giving sympathy either before or after marriage. Mummies are
limited, whether they be in sealed sarcophagi or sit behind roller-top
desks and cut coupons. Something in his quiet presence, however, soothed
the girl's rebellious spirit more than words could have done. Cornelius
Darby did not know that he could come nearer to the true measurement of
Jerry's mind than any one else had ever done. People had pitied her when
her mother passed away and her father died a bankrupt--which last fact
she must not be told--but nobody understood her except Uncle Cornie, and
he had never said a word until now. He seemed to know now just how her
mind was running. The wisdom of the serpent--even the good little
snakes, of this "Eden"--is not to be misjudged.

"Jerry"--the old man's voice had a strange gentleness in that hour,
however flat and dry it was before and afterward--"Jerry, you understand
about things here."

He waved his hand as if to take in "Eden," Aunt Jerry and Cousin Eugene
strolling leisurely away from the lily-pond, himself, the Darby
heritage, and the unprofitable Swaim estate in the Sage Brush Valley in
far-away Kansas.

"You've never been crossed in your life except when death took Jim. You
don't know a thing about business, nor what it means to earn the money
you spend, and to feel the independence that comes from being so strong
in yourself you don't have to submit to anybody's will." Cornelius Darby
spoke as one who had dreamed of these things, but had never known the
strength of their reality. "And last of all," he concluded, "you think
you are in love with Eugene Wellington."

Jerry gave a start. Uncle Cornie and love! Anybody and love! Only in her
day-dreams, her wild flights of adventure, up to castles builded high in
air, had she really thought of love for herself--until to-day. And
now--Aunt Jerry had hinted awkwardly enough here in the late afternoon
of what was on her mind. Cousin Gene had held her han