and accomplishments she
was not proud; but her pride was too ethereal to be seen. It was not the
vain consciousness of gifts and endowments, but the serene sense of
worthiness, of unimpaired health, honor, and descent, which made her
kind and thoughtful to a degree only less than piety. Grateful for her
social rank and parentage, she adorned but did not forget them. The
suitors who came for her were weighed in this scale of perfect
desert--to be sons of such parents and associates of her married sisters
and sisters-in-law. Not one had survived the test, yet none knew where
he failed.

"Vesta is too good for any of them," exclaimed the Judge, on more than
one occasion. "When I get the furnace in such shape that it will run
itself I will take my daughter to Europe and give her a musical
education."

In truth, the Judge had expectations of his daughter; for the reputation
he had attained as a manufacturer was not without its drawbacks. He
maintained two establishments; he supported a large body of laborers and
dependents, some of whom he had brought from distant places under
contract; the experiment in which he had embarked was still an
experiment, and he was subject to the knowledge and judgment of his
manager, being himself rather the patron than the manufacturer at the
works. Many days, when he was supposed to be testing the percentage and
mixture of his ores, he was gunning off on the ocean bars, crabbing on
Whollop's Beach, or hunting up questionable company among the forest
girls, or around the oystermen's or wrecker's cabins. He had plenty of
property and family endorsers, however, and seldom failed to have a
satisfactory interview with Meshach Milburn, who was now assisting him,
at least once a quarter, to keep both principal and interest at home.

The Judge had grown thicker with Meshach, but the storekeeper merely
listened and assented, and took no pains to incur another criticism on
his motives. Meshach wore his great hat, as ever, to church and on
festive days, and it was still derided, and held to be the town wonder.
Vesta Custis often saw the odd little man come into church while she was
singing, and she fancied that his large, coarse ears were turned to
receive the music she was making, and she faintly remembered that once
she had held in her hands that wonderful hat with its copper buckle in
the band, and stiff, wide brim, flowing in a wave. More than that she
knew nothing, except that the wearer was an