le' I care
not. I KNOW IN WHOM I have believed. Joel, sing that last sequence
again. Stand where I can see thee." And the lad's joyful voice rang
exulting out:

"Lord, Thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations. Before the
mountains were brought forth, or ever Thou hadst formed the world, from
everlasting to everlasting Thou art God! Thou art God! Thou art God!"

"That will do, Joel. Go thy ways now. Lord, Thou hast been our
dwelling-place in all generations. 'Unknowable,' Thou hast been our
dwelling-place in all generations. No, no, no, what an ungrateful sinner
I would be to change the Lord everlasting for the Unknowable.'"

CHAPTER IX

NEW YORK is at its very brightest and best in October. This month of the
year may be safely trusted not to disappoint. The skies are blue, the
air balmy, and there is generally a delightful absence of wind. The
summer exiles are home again from Jersey boarding houses, and mountain
camps, and seaside hotels, and thankful to the point of hilarity that
this episode of the year is over, that they can once more dwell under
their own roofs without breaking any of the manifest laws of the great
goddess Custom or Fashion.

Judge Rawdon's house had an especially charming "at home" appearance.
During the absence of the family it had been made beautiful inside and
outside, and the white stone, the plate glass, and falling lace evident
to the street, had an almost conscious look of luxurious propriety.

The Judge frankly admitted his pleasure in his home surroundings. He
said, as they ate their first meal in the familiar room, that "a visit
to foreign countries was a grand, patriotic tonic." He vowed that the
"first sight of the Stars and Stripes at Sandy Hook had given him the
finest emotion he had ever felt in his life," and was altogether in
his proudest American mood. Ruth sympathized with him. Ethel listened
smiling. She knew well that the English strain had only temporarily
exhausted itself; it would have its period of revival at the proper
time.

"I am going to see grandmother," she said gayly. "I shall stay with her
all day."

"But I have a letter from her," interrupted the Judge, "and she will not
return home until next week."

"I am sorry. I was anticipating so eagerly the joy of seeing her. Well,
as I cannot do so, I will go and call on Dora Stanhope."

"I would not if I were you, Ethel," said Ruth. "Let her come and call on
you."

"I had a little note from