to live for more than to take care of themselves."

"I was just trying to take care of somebody else, and you head me off!
You should encourage a fellow better. One must make a beginning. And I
_would_ like to be of use to somebody, if I could."

"Go on," she said, with her faint smile again. "How do you propose that
I shall meet the increased expenditures of your Connecticut paradise?"

"You would like it?" he said eagerly.

"I cannot tell. But if the people are as pleasant as the place--it
would be a paradise. Still, I cannot afford to live in paradise, I am
afraid."

"You have only heard half my plan. It will cost you nothing. You have
heard only what you are to get--not what you are to give."

"Let me hear. What am I to give?"

"The benefits of your knowledge of the world, and knowledge of
literature, and knowledge of languages, to two persons who need and are
with out them all."

"'Two persons.' What sort of persons?"

"Two of the daughters I spoke of."

Mrs. Barclay was silent a minute, looking at him.

"Whose plan is this?"

"Your humble servant's. As I said, one must make a beginning; and this
is my beginning of an attempt to do good in the world."

"How old are these two persons?"

"One of them, about eighteen, I judge. The other, a year or two older."

"And they wish for such instruction?"

"I believe they would welcome it. But they know nothing about the
plan--and must not know," he added very distinctly, meeting Mrs.
Barclay's eyes with praiseworthy steadiness.

"What makes you think they would be willing to pay for my services,
then? Or, indeed, how could they do it?"

"They are not to do it. They are to know nothing whatever about it.
They are not able to pay for any such advantages. Here comes in the
benevolence of my plan. You are to do it for _me_, and I am to pay the
worth of the work; which I will do to the full. It will much more than
meet the cost of your stay in the house. You can lay up money," he
said, smiling.

"Phil," said Mrs. Barclay, "what is behind this very odd scheme?"

"I do not know that anything--beyond the good done to two young girls,
and the good done to you."

"It is not that," she said. "This plan never originated in your regard
for my welfare solely."

"No. I had an eye to theirs also."

"_Only_ to theirs and mine, Phil?" she asked, bending a keen look upon
him. He laughed, and changed his position, but did not answer.

"Philip, Philip, what is this