aken a general overturn. Half of the elegant houses in the neighborhood
of Hope Terrace were for sale, and shut up. Expensive country mansions
to be used for a few summer months were quite beyond present incomes. A
month at the seaside cost much less. Costly scientific, or rather
unscientific gardening,--since the true aim of science must be the best
adjustment of power to the desired result,--graperies, green-houses,
henneries standing empty, the money lavished upon them so much waste
material at present,--where had the wealth gone to so suddenly? He could
not understand the rapid and wide-spread ruin. Even of themselves,--how
was it that for years there should be no stint, but absolute
wastefulness, and then nothing at all?

He was so new to any business results, that he seemed like a child
groping in the dark. And here was Jack Darcy, with his academy training
merely, managing one of the great problems of the day, taking hold
manfully to right the wrongs brought about by selfishness and utter
disregard for one's neighbor. Had Plotinus struck the grand key-note
when he said he "was striving to bring the God within us in harmony with
the God of the universe"? For might there not be false gods within?

He found he had not much time for abstruse speculations, which was all
the better for his mental health. After enduring the dirt and disorder
of the office for a week, he set about remedying that. He might not be
able to regenerate the world, but he could make one little room decent.
The office-boy and the scrub-woman were called in; the desks and shelves
were cleared of the accumulation of months, and presented quite an
orderly aspect. He found his hands blistered by the rough handling, but
the reward was a wholesome hunger and a good night's sleep. Not quite as
entertaining, perhaps, as a scramble in the Sierras or the Alps, but
productive of as beneficial results.

Then there was a home to be found. Living at Hope Terrace on a thousand
a year would hardly be possible, even if it could be had rent free. So
he asked Mrs. Darcy's advice about the matter, and she proposed a pretty
cottage,--there were so many standing empty. It seemed very queer to be
counselling this proud, sad-eyed young man, who a year or two ago had
hardly deigned to look at them. Yet, like Jack, she still held a tender
feeling for the pretty, enthusiastic boy she remembered.

There had been in his mind a great struggle about Sylvie. He knew now
tha