ut careful thought and earnest consideration. Ever since her
portion of the golden treasure had been definitely assigned to her, the
mind of Mrs. Cliff had been much occupied with plans for her future in
her old home.

It was not to be altogether a new life. All the friends she had in the
world, excepting Captain and Mrs. Horn, lived in Plainton. She did not
wish to lose these friends,--she did not wish to be obliged to make new
ones. With simple-minded and honest Willy Croup, who had long lived
with her and for her; with Mrs. Perley, the minister's wife; with all
her old neighbors and friends, she wished to live as she had always
lived, but, of course, with a difference. How to manage, arrange, and
regulate that difference was the great problem in her mind.

One thing she had determined upon: her money should not come between her
and those who loved her and who were loved by her. No matter what she
might do or what she might not do, she would not look down upon people
simply because she was rich, and oh, the blessed thought which followed
that! There would be nobody who could look down upon her because she was
not rich!

She did not intend to be a fine new woman; she did not intend to build a
fine new house. She was going to be the same Mrs. Cliff that she used to
be,--she was going to live in the same house. To be sure, she would add
to it. She would have a new dining-room and a guest's chamber over it,
and she would do a great many other things which were needed, but she
would live in her old home where she and her husband had been so happy,
and where she hoped he would look down from heaven and see her happy
until the end of her days.

As she thought of the things she intended to do, and of the manner in
which she intended to do them, Mrs. Cliff rose and walked the floor. She
felt as if she were a bird, a common-sized bird, perhaps, but with
enormous wings which seemed to grow and grow the more she thought of
them until they were able to carry her so far and so high that her mind
lost its power of directing them.

She determined to cease to think of the future, of what was going to be,
and to let her mind rest and quiet itself with what really existed. Here
she was in a great city full of wonders and delights, of comforts,
conveniences, luxuries, necessities, and all within her power. Almost
anything she could think of she might have; almost anything she wanted
to do she might do. A feeling of potentiality seem