the only people who profit by it
at present; they hunt over it, and dry the fish they catch in the creek,
along the bank."

"Yet, if it were cleared, it ought not to be a bad position. Where is it
on the creek?"

Mr. Bellairs reached a map, and the two became absorbed in discussing
the probable advantages of turning out Clarkson and the Indians, and
clearing the farm on Beaver Creek.

Mr. Bellairs left his office earlier than usual that day, and found his
wife sitting alone in her little morning room. He took up a magazine
which lay on the table, and seated himself comfortably in an easy-chair
opposite to her.

"Where's Bella?" he asked presently.

"Upstairs, I believe. She and I have nearly quarrelled to-day."

"What about?"

"About her marriage. I declare, William, I have no patience with her."

Mr. Bellairs laughed. "An old complaint, my dear; but why?"

"She is so matter-of-fact. I asked her, at last, what she was going to
marry for, and she told me coolly, for convenience."

Mrs. Bellairs' indignation made her husband laugh still more. "They are
well matched," he said; "Morton is as cool as she is. He might be
Bluebeard proposing for his thirteenth wife."

"Well, _you_ may like it, but I don't. If they care so little about each
other now, what will they do when they have been married as long as we
have?"

"My dear Elise, you and I were born too soon. _We_ never thought of
marrying for convenience; but as our ideas on the subject don't seem to
have changed much in ten years, perhaps theirs may not do so either. By
the way, where's Percy?"

"That's another thing. I don't want to be inhospitable to your cousin,
but I do wish with all my heart that he was back in England."

Mr. Bellairs threw his magazine on the table. "Why, what on earth is the
matter with him?"

"Do you know where he spends half his time?"

"Not I. To tell the truth, his listless, dawdling way rather provokes
me, and I have not been sorry to see less of him lately."

"He goes to the Cottage every day."

"Does he? I should not have thought that an amusement much in his way."

"You say yourself that Lucia is a wonderfully pretty girl."

"Lucia? She is a child. You don't think that attracts him?"

Mrs. Bellairs was silent.

"Elise, don't be absurd. You women are always fancying things of that
kind. A fellow like Percy is not so easily caught."

"I hope to goodness I am only fancying, but I believe you would give
Mrs. Costel