case, and appointed Ralph Dewey
as guardian to the boy, who was immediately placed at school in a
neighboring town.

So ended this long season of suspense. Immediately on the decision
of the case, Wallingford went to Boston to see Mrs. Montgomery, and
remained absent nearly a week. I saw him soon after his return.

"How did she bear this final dashing of her hopes to the earth?" I
asked.

"As any one who knew her well might have expected," he answered, with so
little apparent feeling that I thought him indifferent.

"As a Christian philosopher," said I.

"You make use of exactly the right words," he remarked. "Yes, as a
Christian philosopher. As one who thinks and reasons as well as feels. I
have seen a great many so-called religious people in my time. People who
had much to say about their-spiritual experiences and hopes of heaven.
But never one who so made obedience to the strict law of right, in all
its plain, common-sense interpretations, a matter of common duty. I
do not believe that for anything this world could offer her, Mrs.
Montgomery would swerve a hair's breadth from justice. I have been in
the position to see her tempted; have, myself, been the tempter over and
over again during the ten years in which I represented her claims to the
Allen estate; but her principles were immovable as the hills. Once, I
shall never forget the incident--I pressed her to adopt a certain course
of procedure, involving a law quibble, in order to get possession of the
property. She looked at me for a moment or two, with a flushing face.
Then her countenance grew serene, almost heavenly, and she gave me this
memorable reply--'Mr. Wallingford, I have a richer estate than this
in expectancy, and cannot mar the title.' And she has not marred it,
Doctor."

"How did her daughter receive the news?" I inquired. I thought he turned
his face a little away, as he answered.

"Not so well as her mother." I knew his voice was lower. "When I
announced the fact that the claims of young Garcia had been admitted
by the court, tears sprung to her eyes, and a shadow fell upon her
countenance such as I have never seen there before."

"She is younger and less disciplined," said I.

"Few at her age," he answered, "are so well disciplined"

"Will they still remain in Boston?" I asked.

"Yes, for the present," he answered, and we parted. A few months after
this, my wife said to me one day,

"Did you hear that Mr. Wallingford had bought the