exclaimed to Amy, in all
sincerity, "I hate him unseen."

With the ready trustfulness of youth, Hallam began to think his mother's
and the lawyer's words had not meant literally what they expressed.

On Mr. Wingate's side, the sight of Hallam's physical infirmity had
roused regret at the action he must take. Up till this meeting he had
lived with but one object in view--the possession of Fairacres; nor did
he now waver in his determination. There had simply entered into the
matter a sentiment of compassion which was a surprise to himself, and
which he banished as completely as he could.

Amy met them at the door with the gratifying report:--

"Father is about all right again. It was a sudden faint. Cleena says
that he has had them before, but that mother had not wished us told.
There is no need of a doctor, and Cleena is to get the west chamber
ready for Mr. Wingate to sleep in. I'm to freshen the fire and--here is
mother herself."

The house mistress came toward them, vial and glass in hand, on her way
back to the sick-room. The hall was dimly lighted, and as she turned at
the stair's foot and passed upward, with that soft gliding motion
peculiar to herself, she seemed to the entering guest like a sad-faced
ghost of a girl he had known. Halfway up she paused upon the landing and
smiled down upon them; and the serenity of that smile made the hard
facts of the case--illness, poverty, and home-breaking--seem even more
unreal than anything else could have done.

Amy looked into Mr. Wingate's eyes, which were fixed upon their mother.
"Isn't she like the Madonna? Father has so often painted her as such."

"Yes--hmm. He ought to. A Madonna of Way and Means. Say, little girl,
you are bright enough, but you act a good deal younger than your years.
How happens it you've never learned to look after your father yourself,
and so spare your mother? Can you do anything useful?"

"That depends. I can arrange father's palette, and crack his eggs just
right, and buy things--when there's money," she finished naively.

"It all seems 'father.' What about your mother? What can you do, or have
you done, to help _her_, eh?"

Amy flushed. She thought this sort of cross-questioning very rude and
uncalled for. As soon as she had heard this man's name she had realized
that it must be he of whom Hallam had spoken, and whom she, also, had
decided she "hated unseen." But, in truth, hatred was a feeling of which
the carefully sheltered gi