terfere
with his law studies, which he immediately resumed, applying himself so
closely that he was admitted to practice within the year, and in time
became one of the ablest lawyers in the State.

And now there remains but little to do except to gather up the few
tangled threads of our story and bring it to a close. For another year
the Raymonds and St. Claires remained abroad, and then, just before they
sailed for home, there was a double wedding one morning in London, when
Fred and Dick were the bridegrooms, and Marian and Nina were the brides.
Dick had not forgotten the night under the pines, but he had ceased to
remember it with pain; and when he asked Marian to be his wife he told
her of it, and of his old love for Jerrie, while she in turn told him of
a grave among the Alps by which she had stood with an aching heart,
while strangers buried from her sight forever a young artist from
Boston, who, had he lived, would have made it impossible for her to be
the wife of Dick St. Claire. But Allan was dead, and Jerrie was a wife
and mother, and so across the graves of a living and a dead love the two
grasped hands, and, forgetting the past as far as possible, were content
with the new happiness offered to them.

* * * * *

It is five years now since Harold and Jerrie came home, and toddling
about the house is a little girl two years old, whom they call Gretchen,
and who has all the soft beauty of the Gretchen in the picture, together
with Jerrie's stronger and more marked features. This little girl is
Arthur's idol, and has succeeded in luring him from his den, in which,
until she came, he was staying closer than ever. Now, however, he is
with her constantly, either in the house or in the grounds, or sitting
under a tree holding her in his lap, while he talks his strange talk to
the other Gretchen, and the child listens wonderingly, with her great
blue eyes fixed upon him.

'This is our grandchild,' he will say, nodding to the space beside him,
while little Gretchen nods too, as if she also saw a figure sitting
there. 'Our grandchild and Jerrie's baby, and you are its grandmother.
Grandma Gretchen! That's funny;' and then he laughs, and baby laughs,
and says after him, lispingly, 'Danma Detchen, that's funny.'

Then Tracy comes up with his whip and his cart, and his straw hat
hanging down his back, and Arthur points him out to the spirit Gretchen
as her grandson, who, he says, is all