about what Charles and I have had in mind some months. Ross and
Janet will soon be here, and I know all four of the children are anxious
to have the engagements formally completed."

"Completed?" said Hiram.

"Yes," reaffirmed Matilda. "Of course they can't be completed until we
parents have done our share. You and Ellen want to know that Arthur and
Adelaide won't be at the mercy of any reverse in business Charles might
have--or of any caprice which might influence him in making his will. And
Charles and I want to feel the same way as to our Ross and Janet."

"Yes," said Hiram. "I see." A smile of stern irony roused his features
from their repose into an expressiveness that made Mrs. Whitney
exceedingly uncomfortable--but the more resolute.

"Charles is willing to be liberal both in immediate settlement and in
binding himself in the matter of his will," she went on. "He often says,
'I don't want my children to be impatient for me to die. I want to make
'em feel they're getting, if anything, more because I'm alive.'"

A long pause, then Hiram said: "That's one way of looking at it."

"That's _your_ way," said Matilda, as if the matter were settled. And
she smiled her softest and sweetest. But Hiram saw only the glitter in
her cold brown eyes, a glitter as hard as the sheen of her
henna-stained hair.

"No," said he emphatically, "that's _not_ my way. That's the broad and
easy way that leads to destruction. Ellen and I," he went on, his
excitement showing only in his lapses into dialect, "we hain't worked
all our lives so that our children'll be shiftless idlers, settin'
'round, polishin' their fingernails, and thinkin' up foolishness and
breedin' fools."

Matilda had always known that Hiram and Ellen were hopelessly vulgar; but
she had thought they cherished a secret admiration for the "higher
things" beyond their reach, and were resolved that their son should be a
gentleman and their daughter a lady. She found in Hiram's energetic
bitterness nothing to cause her to change her view. "He simply wants to
hold on to his property to the last, and play the tyrant," she said to
herself. "All people of property naturally feel that way." And she held
steadily to her programme. "Well, Hiram," she proceeded tranquilly, "if
those marriages are to take place, Charles and I will expect you to meet
us halfway."

"If Ross and my Delia and Arthur and your Jane are fond of each other,
let 'em marry as you and Charles, as Ellen a