owever, for me to see as I
would like. Isn't there a lamp here?"

"Lamp, is it? Askin' pardon for forgettin' me manners, but it's never a
lamp will the master have left in this place. If one comes, indeed, 'tis
himself brings it. Forby, on occasion like this, I'll fetch it an' take
all the blame for that same. It's below. I'll step down;" and she
departed hastily, leaving him alone.

CHAPTER IV.

HALLAM.

As the stage from the railway station rolled up to Fairacres, Amy was
waiting upon the wide porch. She had put on her daintiest frock, white,
of course, since her father liked her to wear no other sort of dress;
and she had twisted sprays of scarlet woodbine through her dark hair and
about her shoulders. Before the vehicle stopped, she called out
eagerly:--

"Oh! how glad I am you're here! It's been such a long two days! Are you
all well? Is everything right, mother dearest? Did you have a nice
time?"

The father reached her first, remarking, with a fond smile:--

"You make a sweet picture, daughter, with that open doorway behind you,
with the firelight and candlelight, and--Ah! did you speak, Salome?"
turning toward his wife.

"The man is waiting, Cuthbert. Has thee the money for him?"

Mr. Kaye fumbled in one pocket, tried another, frowned, and appeared
distressed.

"Never mind, dear. Hallam can attend to it."

But the crippled lad had already swung himself over the steps upon his
crutches, and the artist remarked, with a fresh annoyance:--

"He must put it in the bill, Salome. Why always bother with such
trifles? If one could only get away from the thought and sound of money.
Its sordidness is the torment of one's life."

Mrs. Kaye sighed, as she paid the hackman from her own purse, then
followed her husband into the house.

His face had already lost all its expression of annoyance, and now
beamed with satisfaction as he regarded Amy's efforts to celebrate the
home-coming.

"Good child. Good little girl. Truly, very beautiful. Why, my darling,
you'll be an artist yourself some day, I believe."

"The saints forbid!" murmured a voice from the further side the room,
where Cleena had appeared, bearing a tray of dishes.

Nobody heard the ejaculation, however, save Hallam, and he didn't count,
being of one and the same opinion as the old serving-woman. All the
lad's ambitions lay toward a ceaseless activity, and the coloring of
canvases attracted him less than even the meanest kind of manual