“My mother was an invalid for many years,” Miss Rindy went on. “She doted on Albert from the time he was a baby, for he was a very pretty child, and I wasn’t. He was gentle and good-natured, which I was not. Poor Mother adored beauty. She was romantic and sentimental. Her eldest child, my sister Cora, was a beauty and Mother was very proud of her, but she died when she was sixteen, and then plain little Rindy was the one that was left. I don’t think my mother ever got over the fact that the beauty was taken and the plain one left, so she poured out all her affection and pride upon Albert, spoiled him utterly.” She paused, but Ellen saw a look upon her face which made her go over to her cousin and put her arms around her. “You dear, you dear,” she murmured. “You are perfectly beautiful to me, and I know you were to all those boys overseas that you did so much for.” Miss Rindy turned her head away. “Don’t,” she said; but Ellen saw that there were tears in her eyes when again she took up her work. This conversation not only made Ellen more appreciative of what her cousin was doing for her, but it made her eager to have more light thrown upon her history, and who could tell her better than Jeremy Todd, who had known Rindy Crump all his life. So to Jeremy did Ellen go for information. It was one afternoon when the light was streaming in through the stained-glass windows of the little church. The organ lesson was over, and Jeremy had finished playing one of Ellen’s favorite sonatas. He never failed to do this after the lesson; then they would talk for a while and walk home together. Ellen waited till the last chords died away before she said: “You knew Cousin Rindy’s brother, didn’t you, Mr. Todd? What sort of person was he?” “Know Al Crump? Oh, yes, of course I knew him; a mighty agreeable person he was, everybody liked him, but he had no sort of stability about him, visionary, into any sort of scheme that came up, good looking and good tempered, but selfish.” “I never knew till the other day that Cousin Rindy had a brother; she never mentions him.” “That is not surprising, considering that she has not heard from him for years.” “But she knows where he is; she told me he lived in Seattle.” “So he does, but she doesn’t know it from him. Some of his old friends keep her informed. He is doing pretty well, I believe, has found his niche at last, and, having been thrown on his own resources, has worked out a better career than he could have done here. Probably it took a long time for his judgment to mature; it is that way sometimes.” “Did they quarrel?”