ree daughters,
Katherine, Rosina and Eveleen. The son, wild and wayward all his life,
broke loose at the age of twenty, forged his father's name, and fled to
New York, married an actress, got into a gambling affray, and was
stabbed. That was the end of him. The eldest daughter, born in England,
had been brought up by her maternal grandmother, who was rich, and whose
heiress she was to be. Mrs. Danton and her two youngest children resided
at the Hall, while the Captain was mostly absent. After her death, a
Canadian lady had taken charge of the house and Captain Danton's
daughters. All this Grace knew, and was quite unprepared to see her
distant kinsman, and to hear that the Canadian lady had married and
left, and that she was solicited to take her place. The Captain's terms
were so generous that Grace accepted at once; and, a week after, was
domesticated at the Hall, housekeeper and companion to his daughters.

Four years ago. Looking back to-night, Grace sighed to think how
pleasant it had all been, now that it was over. It had been such a
quiet, untroubled time--she sole mistress, Rose's fits of ill-temper and
Eeny's fits of illness the only drawback. And now it was at an end
forever. The heiress of Danton Hall was coming to wield the sceptre, and
a new era would dawn with the morrow.

There was a tap at the door, and a voice asking: "May I come in, Grace?"
and Grace woke up from her dreaming.

"Yes, Eeny," she said; and Eeny came in, looking at her searchingly.

"Have you been crying?" she asked, taking a stool at her feet.

"Crying? no! What should I cry for?"

"You look so solemn. I heard your visitor go, and ran up. Who was it?"

"My brother, who has just returned from Germany."

"Dear me! Didn't I say he had eyes like you? He's a Doctor, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"Grace, I thought you said you were poor?"

"Well, I am poor--am I not?"

"Then who paid for your brother studying medicine in Germany?"

"Uncle Roosevelt. He is very fond of Frank."

"Is your Uncle Roosevelt rich?"

"I believe so. Very rich, and very miserly."

"Has he sons and daughters?"

"No; we are his nearest relatives."

"Then, perhaps, he will leave you his fortune, Grace."

"Hardly, I think. He may remember Frank in his will; but there is no
telling. He is very eccentric."

"Grace, I hope he won't leave it to you," said Eeny soberly.

"Really, why not, pray?"

"Because, if you were rich you would go away. I should be sorry if