mething!"

Mrs. Livingstone rose in despairing resignation.

"Just like your father, child. No conception of anything but the
material things of life. I did hope my daughter would have some
sympathy with me; but it seems she has n't. Bring me my bag--the black
one; the lunch is in that. Of course we can't have a warm supper until
we get started."

The next few days were a dream of bliss to Mrs. Livingstone. The house
was a handsome mansion set well back from the street, and surrounded by
beautiful grounds which were kept in order by a man who came two or
three times a week to attend to them. Mrs. Livingstone had but herself
and Mabel to care for, and she performed the work of the house as a
high-priestess might have attended upon the altars of her gods. It was
on the fifth day that a growing wonder in the mind of Mrs. Livingstone
found voice.

"Mabel, there is n't one of His works in the house--not one. I 've
been everywhere!" said 'the woman plaintively.

"Well, mother," laughed the girl saucily, "that's the most sensible
thing I ever knew of the man. I don't wonder he did n't want them
round--I should n't!"

"Mabel!"

"Well, I shouldn't!" And Mabel laughed wickedly while her mother
sighed at the out-spoken heresy. It was plain that Mabel had no soul.

Mrs. Livingstone was furthermore surprised at her idol's taste in art;
some of the pictures on the wall were a distinct shock to her. And if
the absence of the Inimitable One's works astonished her, the presence
of some others' books certainly did more than that.

The house was to be sold completely furnished, with the exception of
the books and pictures. The price was high, and there were but few
prospective purchasers. Occasionally people came to see the property;
such Mrs. Livingstone conducted about the house with reverent
impressiveness, displaying its various charms much as a young mother
would "show off" her baby.

"It is something to buy a house owned by so famous a man," she
insinuated gently one day, after vainly trying to awaken a proper
enthusiasm in a prim little woman who was talking of purchasing.

"Indeed!" replied the other, frigidly. "Do you think so? I must
confess it is somewhat of a drawback to me." And from that time Mrs.
Livingstone wore an injured air--the young mother's baby had been
snubbed--grievously snubbed.

There were times when Mrs. Livingstone was lonely. Only one of her
neighbors had called, and that one