storage of the best furniture,"
laughing humorously.

"Yes," responded Jane Morgan, "I like to go into an old-fashioned
country kitchen, with a nice painted floor, and braided rag rugs laid
down here and there: with a grandmother's corner by a sunny window, and
a father's chair by the wide, cheerful chimney-piece, and a place for
the children to play, with plenty of room to get about. Apples and nuts
always taste so good in such a place! Instead, we have a stuffy little
kitchen and a cheerless dining-room, that no one wants to sit in, and
every member of the family goes to his or her room, and sociability is
at an end. Then we must go to theatres, lectures, and concerts, just to
catch a glimpse of the members of our own family."

"There is a good deal of truth in that," and the doctor nodded
sagaciously. "And now I shall take steps for that school. I may count on
you, Miss Morgan, may I not, and Miss Barry?"

They both promised.

CHAPTER XV.

MEANWHILE what had befallen Fred Lawrence?

He had been greatly shocked at his father's death. True, the tender,
intense affection that had so sweetened childhood seemed to have died
out; when they might have attained to an enduring friendship, they had
gone separate ways, missing the exquisite sympathy that should have
existed between them. Whether the distance was any disappointment to his
father, he had never thought. He was the only son of the house, and his
slightest wish had always been gratified. There had been no wretched
vices that sap body and soul, nothing to bring dishonor on the old pure,
family name; and, if David Lawrence missed something that he had hardly
longed for, he still felt proud of his son.

But his son, bending over the coffined face, was stunned, paralyzed. Of
this death he had never thought. Was it not rather a frightful dream?

The sharp reality followed fast enough. He listened, still bewildered by
the horrible visions that crowded upon him. Hope Mills closed, notes
going to protest, workmen clamoring for pay, Mr. Eastman quite out of
reach, indeed, no one knew just where.

Mr. Minor did not spare his father-in-law. How could he trust every
thing to Horace Eastman! How could he allow George to go on unchecked in
such a career of wild speculation! forgetting that he had speculated
quite as wildly. And now all the property was covered with mortgages,
and not a dollar to be squeezed out of any thing. As for the bank
business, that he s