is a grave question in my mind how
much of that money out there belongs to me."

Mary nodded. "I think I understand what you mean," she said.

"Yes, I think there is no doubt that almost all of my father's money
was made there in the West after"--he hesitated and then went on--"after
the--the other died and after he married my mother. But nevertheless I
shall always feel as if whatever there was belonged to your uncles,
the surviving members of the old firm. If I could, I should give it to
them."

Mary smiled. "Thank you for saying it, dear," she said, "and I know you
mean it; but it would be no use to offer; they wouldn't take it."

"I know they wouldn't. So we must try and make it up to them in some
other way. But suppose we leave that for a time and get back to my work.
I'm going to keep on with it; I want to and you say that you want me
to."

"I do, very much. I am sure you will be happier in that work than in any
other, and besides--I suppose I am ever so unpractical, but I do
feel it--I had rather you made your own way. Somehow the idea of our
depending upon that money out there doesn't--doesn't--Oh, I can't
explain exactly, but I don't like the idea a bit."

"I know. I prefer to paddle my own canoe, if I can. But a young doctor's
canoe is likely to move pretty slowly at first. And I intend taking a
passenger, you know, and I want her to be comfortable."

Mary laughed, a contented little laugh. "She will be," she declared.
"Did I tell you of the talk Uncle Shad and I had the other day? He
saw me sitting by the dining-room window looking out at nothing in
particular--and looking silly enough, too, I dare say--and he asked me
what I was thinking. I said, 'Nothing much,' which wasn't true, and he
said nothing must be good to think of, I looked so cheerful. I told
him I was. Then I asked him--my conscience troubled me a little, you
know--if he was sure that he and Uncle Zoeth were happy, because I
shouldn't be unless they were."

"Well, that was characteristic. What did he say to that?"

"Oh, he laughed that big laugh of his and told me not to worry. 'I'M
feelin' pretty average satisfied with life just now, Mary-'Gusta,' he
said, 'and as for Zoeth--well, he asked me this mornin' if I didn't
cal'late 'twas wicked for him and me to be so contented with the things
of this world, so I know HE'S all right. When Zoeth gets real happy he
always begins to feel sinful.' I hope that a consciousness of sin isn't
the