a, 2nd! Old Tom bought them for the boy he hid away
with him, in the days when timber-lands were going for a song. He paid
the taxes until he was drowned, and I--I've paid 'em since, my dear!
Three or four hundred thousand dollars, or more, ought to buy quite an
amount of--er--feminine necessities, it seems to me."

With delicately thin fingers Miss Sarah leafed the papers through.

"You have never told me of this matter before, Cal," she murmured.

"Never told anybody!" chirruped Caleb triumphantly. "I tried to find
the boy--both of us did, that is--and we failed. And when he turned up
of his own accord--well, I knew a half year more of ignorance
concerning his legacy wouldn't see him starve. Sarah, I wanted to see
how that boy of ours would behave, without any backing. I wanted to be
sure of the stuff he is made of!"

They had finished a much interrupted meal, but Miss Sarah lingered a
moment at table. With incredible calm she had listened to the secret
which her brother had been keeping to himself so long.

"A very good reason," she agreed, "one that would seem to have many
points to excuse it. And although it is not within the letter of the
law I--I think, Cal, I shall become an accessory before the fact. Very
shamelessly I am going to ask you to see that no one knows of this
property of Steve's, for a little longer, at least. I have spoken with
the utmost confidence concerning Barbara; your reference to all that
she said to Steve in a childish burst of passion years ago does not
affect my attitude at all. But I have not been blind to what might be
her--opinion now, either, impossible and ignoble though it seems. You
will not tell Stephen of this matter for a while, Cal, for it would
please me to know, without room for doubt, just what stuff she is made
of, too!"

She straightened her diminutive body and started upstairs.

"She will be over to bid us good-bye to-night," she added. "Will you
see that she comes directly up to me?"

And once more, from the landing, she spoke over her shoulder:

"You said that she treated him like a dog, Cal," she managed to keep
her features grave, "and being a woman I can understand exactly why
that is so. The joy of a breathless pursuit, it is often said, is the
only choice left for the female. But can you tell me why a man hunts
out the deepest, most comfortable chair he can find and ensconces
himself therein, once he had overtaken the idol of his fancy? The