y.

"You see, don't you?" he asked. "You understand. Steve's goin' to have
the chance to make a good livin' at the very thing he declares he's set
on doin'. I ain't told him, and I don't want you to, but it's what I've
planned for him and--"

"Wait! wait, Uncle, please! The Stock Exchange seat? Father's seat? I
don't see.... I don't understand."

"Yes, yes!" eagerly; "your pa's seat. I've meant it for Steve. There's
been chances enough to sell it, but I wouldn't do that. 'Twas for him,
Caroline; and he's goin' to have it."

"But I don't see how.... Why, I thought--"

The door of the dining room opened. Annie appeared on the threshold.

"Dinner is served," she announced.

"Be right there, Annie. Now you see that you ain't got to worry about
Steve, don't you, Caroline?"

His niece did not answer. By the light from the doorway he saw that she
was gazing at him with a strange expression. She looked as if she was
about to ask another question. He waited, but she did not ask it.

"Well," he said, rising, "we won't talk any more just now. Annie's
soup's gettin' cold, and she'll be in our wool if we don't have dinner.
Afterwards we can have another session. Come, Caroline."

She also rose, but hesitated. "Uncle Elisha," she said, "will you excuse
me if I don't talk any more to-night? And, if you don't mind, I won't
dine with you. I'm not hungry and--and my head aches. I'll go to my
room, I think."

"Yes, yes," he said, hastily, "of course. I'm afraid I've talked too
much as 'tis. You go up and lie down, and Annie can fetch you some toast
and tea or somethin' by and by. But do just answer me this, Caroline, if
you can: When you told Jim marryin' was out of the question for you, did
he take that as final? Was he contented with that? Didn't he say he was
willin' to wait for you, or anything?"

"Yes, he said he would wait, always. But I told him he must not. And I
told him he must go and not see me again. I couldn't see him as I have
been doing; Uncle, I couldn't!"

"I know, dearie, I know. But didn't you say anything more? Didn't you
give him _any_ hope?"

"I said," she hesitated, and added in a whisper, "I said if I should
ever need him or--or change my mind, I would send for him. I shouldn't
have said it. It was weak and wicked of me, but I said it. Please let me
go now, Uncle dear. Good night."

She kissed him and hurried away. He ate his lonely dinner
absent-mindedly and with little appetite. After it was fi