r he always made a big income," said his son,
Frank.

"But he was so generous, so soft-hearted!" exclaimed the widow. "He
could deny us nothing."

"He couldn't bear seeing us with the slightest wish ungratified," said
Frank.

"He was the best father that ever lived!" cried the daughter, Mildred.

And Mrs. Gower the elder and Mrs. Gower the younger wept; and Mildred
turned away to hide the emotion distorting her face; and Frank stared
gloomily at the carpet and sighed. The hideous secret of the life of
duplicity was safe, safe forever.

In fact, Henry Gower had often thought of the fate of his family if he
should die. In the first year of his married life, at a time when
passion for a beautiful bride was almost sweeping him into generous
thought, he had listened for upward of an hour to the eloquence of a
life insurance agent. Then the agent, misled by Gower's effusively
generous and unselfish expressions, had taken a false tack. He had
descanted upon the supreme satisfaction that would be felt by a dying
man as he reflected how his young widow would be left in affluence. He
made a vivid picture; Gower saw--saw his bride happier after his death
than she had been during his life, and attracting a swarm of admirers
by her beauty, well set off in becoming black, and by her independent
income. The generous impulse then and there shriveled to its weak and
shallow roots. With tears in his kind, clear eyes he thanked the agent
and said:

"You have convinced me. You need say no more. I'll send for you in a
few days."

The agent never got into his presence again. Gower lived up to his
income, secure in the knowledge that his ability as a lawyer made him
certain of plenty of money as long as he should live. But it would
show an utter lack of comprehension of his peculiar species of
character to imagine that he let himself into the secret of his own
icy-heartedness by ceasing to think of the problem of his wife and two
children without him to take care of them. On the contrary, he thought
of it every day, and planned what he would do about it--to-morrow. And
for his delay he had excellent convincing excuses. Did he not take
care of his naturally robust health? Would he not certainly outlive
his wife, who was always doctoring more or less? Frank would be able to
take care of himself; anyhow, it was not well to bring a boy up to
expectations, because every man should be self-supporting and
self-reliant. As fo