not
of mine.

I am afraid that, to get it all clearly before you, I shall have to
prose for a while about the families involved.

I am Benjamin Stubbins Raynie, Desire's bachelor uncle, and almost the
last of the big-nosed Raynies. My elder sister, Lucretia Stubbins
Raynie, married Robert Withacre, one of the "wild Withacres" in whose
blood there is a streak of genius and its revolts. The Withacres all
have talent--mostly ineffectual--and keen aesthetic sensibilities. All
of them can talk like angels from Heaven. By no stretch of the
imagination can they be called thrifty. We considered it a very poor
match for Lucretia. The Raynies are quiet people, not showy, but
substantial and sensible; with a certain sentimental {56} streak
out-cropping here and there, especially in the big-nosed branch; while
the red-headed Raynies are the better money-makers.

I know now that Lucretia secretly believed her offspring were destined
to unite Withacre talent and Raynie poise. She prayed in her heart
that the world might be the richer by a man child of her race who
should be both gifted and sane. But her children proved to be twin
girls, Judith and Desire. Queer little codgers I thought them,
big-eyed, curly-headed, subdued when on exhibition. Lucretia told long
stories, to which I gave slight attention, intended to prove that
Judith was a marvelous example of old-head-on-young-shoulders, and
that Desire, demure, elfin Desire, was a miracle of cleverness and
winning ways.

In view of Desire's career, I judge {57} that these maternal
prepossessions were not wholly misplaced. As a small child she
captivated her Uncle Greening as well as her aunt (our sister, Mary
Stubbins Raynie, married Adam Greening of the well-known banking firm
of Greening, Bowers & Co.). The Greenings were childless, and Desire
spent much of her early life and nearly all her girlhood under Mary
Greening's care and chaperonage. I confess to fondness for a bit of
repartee with Desire now and then, myself. Perhaps I had my share in
spoiling her. I take it a human being is spoiled when he grows up
believing himself practically incapable of wrong-doing. That is what
happened to Desire. Approval had followed her all of her days. How
should she know, poor, petted little scrap, any thing about the
predestined pitfalls of all flesh?

{58}

Of course the Robert Withacres were always as poor as poverty, and of
course our family was always planning for and assisting