e cave more company. She hated
prevarications and concealments, but if she must conceal something, she
should have concealed more. When the time came when she would be free to
tell of her good fortune, even if it should be no more than she already
possessed, then she would explain everything, and proudly demand of her
friends and neighbors to put their fingers on a single untruth that she
had told them.

For the next day or two, Mrs. Cliff's joy in living again in her own home
banished all other feelings, and as she was careful to say nothing to
provoke more questions, and as those which were still asked became
uncertain of aim and scattering, her regrets at her want of reticence
began to fade. But, no matter what she did, where she went, or what she
looked at, Mrs. Cliff carried about with her a millstone. It did not hang
from her neck, but it was in her pocket. It was not very heavy, but it
was a burden to her. It was her money--which she wanted to spend, but
dared not.

On leaving San Francisco, Edna had wished to give her the full amount
which the captain had so far sent her, but Mrs. Cliff declined to receive
the whole. She did not see any strong reason to believe that the captain
would ever send any more, and as she had a home, and Ralph and Edna had
not, she would not take all the money that was due her, feeling that they
might come to need it more than she would. But even with this generous
self-denial she found herself in Plainton with a balance of some
thousands of dollars in her possession, and as much more in Edna's hands,
which the latter had insisted that she would hold subject to order. What
would the neighbors think of Captain Horn's abnormal bounteousness if
they knew this?

With what a yearning, aching heart Mrs. Cliff looked upon the little
picket-fence which ran across the front of her property! How beautiful
that fence would be with a new coat of paint, and how perfectly well she
could afford it! And there was the little shed that should be over the
back door, which would keep the sun from the kitchen in summer, and in
winter the snow. There was this in one room, and that in another. There
were new dishes which could exist only in her mind. How much domestic
gratification there was within her reach, but toward which she did not
dare to stretch out her hand!

There was poor old Mrs. Bradley, who must shortly leave the home in which
she had lived nearly all her life, because she could no longer af