The story begins with Kitty's return to Cyrus after her mother's death. Her father had died two years before. Mrs. Ross--the gay, lovely, flower-like little lady, who had never felt a rough wind while he lived--could not stay long after him. She and Kitty went abroad, and wandered about here and there. Then came the panic, and most of the comfortable property Dr. Ross had left was swept away, I am not clear just how. Very little was left, and much of that little was invested in western railroads that paid no dividends. I will hurry over this part. Mrs. Ross drooped like a broken flower; drooped and died, and Kitty was left alone. If Tom Lee had been at home that year, this story would never have been written; but Tom was in China, building railways. So Kitty came back alone to Cyrus, where she was born and bred. Cyrus people are the kindest in the world, I believe. They may be fond of gossip (I don't find that a thousand miles away it is less popular) and they may be a trifle stiff-necked, like their Puritan ancestors before them, but kind they certainly are. Ever since the news of Mrs. Ross's death came, Cyrus had been asking, what _would_ Kitty do? The money was gone, practically gone, Judge Peters said. There was enough for her clothes and fal-lals, but little more, sir, little more. Something must be thought of. Some--thing--must--be--thought--of. The judge looked and spoke cheerfully, because he had already thought of something. He was Dr. Ross's executor, and who had a better right, he would like to know? The Miss Bygoods, talking together in low tones, while Father nodded over the fire, voiced the same sentiment. The dear child! they said. Of course she could not stay in that great house alone, even with Sarepta. Sarepta was good and faithful, of course, and an excellent cook, as everyone knew; but she was no companion for Kitty, even if her temper were not--well, uncertain. "I think the little blue room, Sister!" said Miss Almeria. "There are bluebirds on the paper, you know, and Kitty always made me think of a bluebird. Dear me! how pleasant to think of having a young creature in the house again!" "And oh, sister!" Miss Egeria beamed softly over her tatting. "We can give her a little Society! Nothing elaborate, of course, only ice-cream and sponge-drops, but--wandering about the Continent as she has been--not that I mean a word in criticism of dear, sainted Mrs. Ross; no, indeed! but to meet Cyrus people, and have a little social life, will mean a great deal to dear Kitty. I mean when she puts on half mourning, of course." Miss Almeria pondered. "I wish there were more young people!" she said. "There is no better society than that of Cyrus, but--but we must acknowledge that most of our agreeable people are--a--mature, and Kitty is so young!" "There is Wilson Wibird;" Miss Egeria spoke timidly. "Wilson is young." Miss Almeria looked grave.