sunrise, strolling through the park, with a troubled,
sorry look on his face for he was extremely sorry for himself, though
very glad for Jerrie, whose sworn ally he was and would be to the end.
In a way he had tried to comfort his mother by telling her that neither
his uncle nor Jerrie would be unjust to her, if she'd only behave
herself, and treat the latter as she ought, and not keep up such a high
and mighty and injured air, as if Jerrie had done something wrong in
finding out who she was.

But Dolly would not be comforted, and her face wore a sullen, defiant
expression, as she moved about the handsome house where she had queened
it so long that she really looked upon it as her own, resenting bitterly
the thought that another was to be mistress there. She had talked with
her husband, and made him tell her exactly how much he was worth in his
own right, and when he told her how little it was, she had exclaimed,
angrily:

'We are beggars, and may as well go back to Langley and sell codfish
again.'

She had seen Tom that morning, and when to her question, 'Why are you up
so early?' he replied, 'To attend to Jerrie's affairs,' she tossed her
head scornfully, and said: 'Before I'd crawl after any girl, much less
Jerrie Crawford! You'd better be attending to your own sister. She's
worse this morning, and looks as if she might die any minute.'

Then Tom went to Maude, who, since the shock of the night before, had
lain as if she were dead, except for her eyes, in which there was a new
and wondrous light, and which looked up lovingly at Tom as he came in
and kissed her, a most unusual thing for him to do.

'Dear Tom,' she whispered, 'come closer to me,' and as he bent down to
her, she continued, 'is every thing Jerrie's?'

'Yes, or will be. She is Uncle Arthur's daughter.'

'Shall we be very poor?'

'Yes, poor as a church mouse.'

Then there was a pause, and when Maude spoke again she said slowly:

'For me, no matter--sorry for you, and father and mother; but glad for
Jerrie. Stand by her, Tom; tell mother not to be so bitter--it hurts me.
Tell Harold, when he comes, I meant to do so much for him, but Jerrie
will do it instead. Tell her I must see her, and send for Uncle Arthur.'

There was a lump in Tom's throat as he left his sister's room, and going
to the village, telegraphed to his uncle's head-quarters at the Palace
Hotel, San Francisco, that he was to come at once.

At least a hundred people stopped him