The fact that Lawrence Eastman took Bessy Houghton to the Baileys'
party made quite a sensation at that festal scene. People nodded and
winked and wondered. "An old maid and her money," said Milly Fiske
spitefully. Milly, as was well known, had a liking for Lawrence
herself.

Lawrence began to "go with" Bessy Houghton regularly after that. In
his single-mindedness he never feared that Bessy would misjudge his
motives or imagine him to be prompted by mercenary designs. He never
thought of her riches himself, and it never occurred to him that she
would suppose he did.

He soon realized that he loved her, and he ventured to hope timidly
that she loved him in return. She was always rather reserved, but the
few favours that meant nothing from other girls meant a great deal
from Bessy. The evenings he spent with her in her pretty sitting-room,
their moonlight drives over long, satin-smooth stretches of snowy
roads, and their walks home from church and prayer meeting under the
winter stars, were all so many moments of supreme happiness to
Lawrence.

* * * * *

Matters had gone thus far before Mrs. Eastman got her eyes opened. At
Mrs. Tom Bailey's quilting party an officious gossip took care to
inform her that Lawrence was supposed to be crazy over Bessy Houghton,
who was, of course, encouraging him simply for the sake of having
someone to beau her round, and who would certainly throw him over in
the end since she knew perfectly well that it was her money he was
after.

Mrs. Eastman was a proud woman and a determined one. She had always
disliked Bessy Houghton, and she went home from the quilting resolved
to put an instant stop to "all such nonsense" on her son's part.

"Where is Lawrie?" she asked abruptly; as she entered the small
kitchen where George Eastman was lounging by the fire.

"Out in the stable grooming up Lady Grey," responded her older son
sulkily. "I suppose he's gadding off to see Bessy Houghton again, the
young fool that he is! Why don't you put a stop to it?"

"I am going to put a stop to it," said Mrs. Eastman grimly. "I'd have
done it before if I'd known. You should have told me of it if you
knew. I'm going out to see Lawrence right now."

George Eastman muttered something inaudible as the door closed behind
her. He was a short, thickset man, not in the least like Lawrence, who
was ten years his junior. Two years previously he had made a furtive
attempt to pay co