ad and pondered, I neither blamed him for
his own course in fair business war with old Dan Emory, nor did I
censure myself for my own hidden act of restitution. Let the world wag
its head if it liked, and remain ignorant of other millions given to
me before my father's death, unprobated, secret, after the fashion of
my pirate parent who buried his treasures and told none but his kin
how they might be found.

Of course, in time, it all might come out. In time, Helena would know
that this yacht which she supposed to be Davidson's was my own, that
the farm I was supposed to have rented really was a handsome estate
that I owned, that many covert deeds in finance had been my own--it
was only my silence and my absence in many parts of the world which
had prevented her, also much a traveler, from knowing the truth about
me long ago. And the truth was, I was not a poor man, but a rich one.

Yet he who had stolen my purse would indeed have stolen trash this
day. Rich in one way, I was poor, indeed, in others. I cared nothing
for old Dan Emory's money, but very, very much for old Dan Emory's
daughter; and her I might not have, even after all my efforts.... No,
the waters would leave no trail; and once more, after I had restored
old Dan Emory's daughter to her home and friends, I would travel the
wide world again, and the gossipers might guess what causes had ended
a professional career, apparently ended a great fortune, and actually
had ended a life.... For, I thought--using some philosophy of my own
making--it is not wealth, but usefulness, contentment and independence
which a man should hold as his most desired success. These achieved,
little is left to gain. Any one of these last, and nothing remains
worth gaining.

I took up another book, at another marked page: "Let us learn to be
content with what we have. Let us get rid of our false estimates, set
up all the higher ideals--a quiet home, vines of our own planting; a
few books full of the inspiration of genius; a few friends worthy of
being loved; a hundred innocent pleasures that bring no pain or
remorse; a devotion to the right that will never swerve; a simple
religion empty of all bigotry, full of trust and hope and love--and to
such a philosophy, this world will give up all the empty joy it has."

I meditated over this also, applying these tests to my own life....
Ah! now I saw why my foot was ever restless, why I sought always new
scenes.... Where was my quiet home,