THE END

_Extract from the Journal of Miss Susan
Standish, Oldburyport, December 1._

It is good to be at home again. I said it over to myself many a time
yesterday, as I was helping Mary to take the covers off the family
portraits, and sitting in front of the old andirons with the firelight
dancing in their great brass balls. I felt it when I sat down at my
mahogany table and laid my fingers on the ebony handle of the old
silver coffee-pot. Things come to have a distinct individuality,
almost a personality, and we unconsciously impute to them a response
to our feeling for them. It seemed to me that the old claw-foot sofa
was as glad to get me back as the cat herself, and the door swung wide
with a squeak of welcome. My desk too stood open with friendly
invitation, and on it lay a couple of letters. The first was from Ben
Bradford. It was so long since I had heard from the boy that I opened
his letter first. I wrote him last month, sending him some news and
more good advice. I counselled him to stop thinking about Winifred
Anstice or any other girl, and throw himself into his studies, to make
a record which should do credit to the Bradford name. He replies that
the advice is excellent; only one drawback,--it cannot be done. He has
tried throwing himself into his studies, but they closed over him
without a trace. Talk about records,--he will be glad enough if he
gets through his examinations without a dead flunk. As for not
thinking about Winifred, he says I have not helped him to the desired
end by what I wrote about Mr. Flint and his attentions. Of course, Ben
says, he could not expect that Winifred would wait for him. In these
days no man could hope to marry until he was white-headed like that
Flint; but as for himself he never did or should see any woman whom he
could love except Winifred Anstice.

To try to throw off his depression and discouragement, he had gone
around last evening to call on Fanny Winthrop, who was studying at
Radcliffe this year and staying on Mount Vernon Street. She sent her
love to her "dear Miss Standish," and if I had any message to send in
return he would be happy to carry it, as he and she were to act in
"The Loan of a Lover," and he was likely to see a good deal of her in
the course of the next week or two.

This letter has relieved my mind greatly. It is evident that Ben's
heart is built like a modern ship, in compartments, so that