nthy. So you're
comin' to Brampton to live with me!

"I was going to ask Miss Bruce to take me in," said Cynthia.

"No you hain't, anything of the kind," said Ephraim, indignantly. "I've
got a little house up the street, and a room all ready for you."

"Will you let me share expenses, Cousin Eph?"

"I'll let you do anything you want," said he, "so's you come. Don't you
think she'd ought to come and take care of an old man, Mr. Satterlee?"

Mr. Satterlee turned. He had been contemplating, during this
conversation, a life-size print of General Grant under two crossed flags,
that was hung conspicuously on the wall.

"I do not think you could do better, Cynthia," he answered, smiling. The
minister liked Ephraim, and he liked a little joke, occasionally. He felt
that one would not be, particularly out of place just now; so he
repeated, "I do not think you could do better than to accept the offer of
Colonel Prescott."

Ephraim grew very red, as was his wont when twitted about his new title.
He took things literally.

"I hain't a colonel, no more than you be, Mr. Satterlee. But the boys
down here will have it so."

Three days later, by the early train which leaves the state capital at an
unheard-of hour in the morning, a young man arrived in Brampton. His jaw
seemed squarer than ever to the citizens who met the train out of
curiosity, and to Mr. Dodd, who was expecting a pump; and there was a set
look on his face like that of a man who is going into a race or a fight.
Mr. Dodd, though astonished, hastened toward him.

"Well, this is unexpected, Bob," said he. "How be you? Harvard College
failed up?"

For Mr. Dodd never let slip a chance to assure a member of the
Worthington family of his continued friendship.

"How are you, Mr. Dodd?" answered Bob, nodding at him carelessly, and
passing on. Mr. Dodd did not dare to follow. What was young Worthington
doing in Brampton, and his father in the West on that railroad business?
Filled with curiosity, Mr. Dodd forgot his pump, but Bob was already
striding into Brampton Street, carrying his bag. If he had stopped for a
few moments with the hardware dealer, or chatted with any of the dozen
people who bowed and stared at him, he might have saved himself a good
deal of trouble. He turned in at the Worthington mansion, and rang the
bell, which was answered by Sarah, the housemaid.

"Mr. Bob!" she exclaimed.

"Where's Mrs. Holden?" he asked.

Mrs. Holden was the elderly h