“Her plans? And what young man? Are you again speaking of Mr. Madison?” “Not by any means. I am speaking of the young man who attends to so much of your gardening, and who, as far as I can make out, has more confidence reposed in him, than any one else who comes to Glen Arden. I mean David.” “David? Dave Carney? Why, Aunt Sophia, what is the trouble about him? We have always found him so satisfactory.” “Exactly so, and therefore you have never taken the trouble to find out anything else about him. Where did you get him in the first place?” “Peter met him in Fordham, and brought him home.” “And do you mean to tell me that is all you know about him? Did you look up his references?” “No-o, I don’t think so—at least, I’m not sure. Honor attends to all such things. But why, Aunt Sophia? What makes you ask?” “I have reason to suspect him,” said Mrs. Wentworth Ward. “When I was in Boston yesterday I saw him, or some one who closely resembled him, going into a pawnbroker’s shop, and since then I have questioned Ellen Higgins.” Ellen Higgins was Mrs. Ward’s maid whom she had brought with her to Glen Arden. “And what does she say?” asked Victoria. She did not fancy Ellen herself, and since her advent there had been endless trouble in the kitchen. “She does not like him, and she thinks you trust him entirely too much.” Victoria felt like replying, “I wish Ellen Higgins would mind her own business,” but she restrained herself. Instead she remarked: “We all like Dave Carney, and we have found him very satisfactory, but I think, after all, that Honor is the one for you to speak to about him. And now if you will excuse me, I will go—that is, if you have quite finished with the work.” “I have finished because you were doing it so badly,” said her aunt. “I am ashamed to send such miserable typewriting as you did this afternoon.” “Why not let me write the letters over with a pen, Aunt Sophia? I write a very clear hand, you know.” “I prefer the typewriter for many reasons, and as you own one, you should be able to make use of it, even if Katherine was the one to buy it. I am astonished at you all. You are very headstrong. Now you may go.” And Victoria quickly took her departure. [Picture: “She found her eldest sister sitting on a rustic bench under the trees, with her work in her hands”] Her mind was filled with the new ideas presented to her, but she found time to wonder why her aunt was not willing to have her notes and various documents written in a good clear hand with a pen, instead of insisting upon having them typewritten. But such a question was of minor importance, she thought, as she ran downstairs and across the lawn. Even if she could not tell Honor what was troubling her about Katherine, it would be a comfort to be near her.