ohn Downey was dead. A
cold--neglect (for he did not know how to be sick), and pneumonia. The
folk of the town had much to talk of for a day, and the dead man's will
gave still higher speed to their tongues, for he had left the hotel and
all its appurtenances to Widdy Hartigan, as a life interest; after her
death it was to go to a kinsman. Thus, out of John Downey's grave there
grew a tree with much-needed and wholesome fruit.

Now Kitty was in a quandary. She was an abstainer from choice rather
than principle; but she was deeply imbued with the uncompromising
religion of her Ulster forbears. How could she run a bar-room? How could
she, who had seen the horror of the drink madness, have a hand in
setting it in the way of weak ones? Worst dilemma of all, how could she
whose religious spirit was dreaming of a great preacher son, bring him
up in these surroundings--yet how refuse, since this was his only
chance?

She consulted with her pastor; and this was the conclusion reached: She
would accept the providential bequest. Downey's would be an inn, a
hotel; not a bar-room. The place where the liquor was sold should be
absolutely apart, walled off; and these new rules were framed: No minor
should ever be served there, no habitual drunkard, no man who already
had had enough. Such rules in Canada during the middle of last century
were considered revolutionary; but they were established then, and, so
far as Kitty could apply them, they were enforced; and they worked a
steady betterment.

With this new responsibility upon her, the inborn powers of Kitty
Hartigan bloomed forth. Hers was the gift of sovereignty, and here was
the chance to rule. The changes came but slowly at first, till she knew
the ground. A broken pane, a weak spot in the roof, a leaky horse
trough, and a score of little things were repaired. Account books of a
crude type were established, and soon a big leak in the treasury was
discovered and stopped; and many little leaks and unpaid bills were
unearthed. An aspiring barkeeper of puzzling methods was, much to his
indignation, hedged about by daily accountings and, last of all, a thick
and double door of demarcation was made between the bar-room and the
house. One was to be a man's department, a purely business matter; the
other a place apart--another world of woollen carpets and feminine
gentleness, a place removed ten miles in thought. The dwellers in these
two were not supposed to mix or even to meet, exce