an Englishman by
birth, but so thoroughly Americanized as to pass unchallenged for a
native. There was a band of crape on Arthur's hat, and his manner was
like one trying to be sorry, while conscious of a great inward feeling
of resignation, if not content. The rich uncle was dead. He had died
suddenly in Paris, where he had gone on business, and the whole of his
vast fortune was left to his nephew Arthur--not a farthing to Frank, not
even the mention of his name in the will: and when Dorothy heard it she
put her white apron over her face, and cried as if her heart would
break. They were so poor, she and Frank, and they wanted so many things,
and the man who could have helped them was dead and had left them
nothing. It was hard, and she might not have made the young heir very
welcome if he had not ensured her that he should do something for her
husband. And he kept his word, and in course of time bought out a
grocery in Langley and put Frank in it, and paid the mortgage on his
house, and gave him a thousand dollars, and invited them for a few days
to visit him; and then it would seem as if he forgot them entirely; for
with his friend Harold he settled himself at Tracy Park, and played the
role of the grand gentleman to perfection.

Dinner parties and card parties, where it was said the play was for
money, and where Arthur always allowed himself to lose and his friends
to win; races and hunts were of frequent occurrence at Tracy Park,
where matters generally were managed on a magnificent scale, and created
a great deal of talk among the plain folks of Shannondale, whose only
dissipation then was going to church twice on Sunday and to the cattle
show once each year.

Few ladies ever graced these festivities, for Arthur was very
aristocratic in his feelings, and with two or three exceptions, held
himself aloof from the people of Shannondale. It was said, however, that
sometimes, when he and his friend were alone, there was the sweep of a
white dress and the gleam of golden hair in the parlor, where sweet Amy
Crawford, daughter of the housekeeper, played and sang her simple
ballads to the two gentlemen, who always treated her with as much
deference as if she had been a queen, instead of a poor young girl
dependent for her bread upon her own and her mother's exertions. But
beyond the singing in the twilight Amy never advanced, and so far as her
mother knew she had never for a single instant been alone with either of
the g