er.

"You know perfectly well whom I mean--my nephew, Mr. Googe."

Aileen was silent for a moment. Her young secret was her own to guard
from all eyes, and especially from all unfriendly ones. She was standing
on the hearth, in front of Mrs. Champney. Turning her head slightly she
looked up at the portrait of the man above her--looked upon almost the
very lineaments of him whom at that very moment her young heart was
adoring: the fine features, the blue eyes, the level brows, the firm
curving lips, the abundant brown hair. It was as if Champney Googe
himself were smiling down upon her. As she continued to look, the lovely
light in the girl's face--a light reflected from no sunset fires over
the Flamsted Hills, but from the sunrise of girlhood's first
love--betrayed her to the faded watchful eyes beside her.

"He looks just like your husband;" she spoke slowly; her voice seemed to
linger on the last word; "when Tave saw him he said he thought it was
Mr. Champney come to life, and I think--"

Mrs. Champney interrupted her. "Octavius Buzzby is a fool." Sudden anger
hardened her voice; a slight flush came into her wasted cheeks. "Tell
Hannah I want my supper now, let Ann bring it in here to me. I don't
need you; I'm tired."

Aileen turned without another word--she knew too well that tone of voice
and what it portended; she was thankful to hear it rarely now--and left
the room to do as she was bidden.

"Little fool!" Almeda Champney muttered between set teeth when the door
closed upon the girl. She placed both hands on the arms of her chair to
raise herself; walked feebly to the hearth where a moment before Aileen
had stood, and raising her eyes to the smiling ones looking down into
hers, confessed her woman's weakness in bitter words that mingled with a
half-sob:

"And I, too, was a fool--all women are with such as you."

V

Although Mrs. Champney remained the only one who read Aileen Armagh's
secret, yet even she asked herself as the summer sped if she read
aright.

During the three weeks in which her nephew was making himself familiar
with all the inner and outer workings of the business at The Gore and in
the sheds, she came to anticipate his daily coming to Champ-au-Haut, for
he brought with him the ozone of success. His laugh was so unaffectedly
hearty; his interest in the future of Flamsted and of himself as a
factor in its prosperity so unfeigned; his enjoyment of his own
importance so infectious, his