The girl feared that her father would rebuke her angrily for the frank revelation of her lack of gratitude, but, instead, he rose, saying kindly as he assisted her to arise, "Jane, dear, you _think_ that is what you want to do but I don't believe it. Dan is to go West next Friday. My good friend Mr. Bethel, being president of a railroad, has sent me the passes. As you know, I still own a little cabin on Mystery Mountain which I purchased for almost nothing when I graduated from college and went West to seek my fortune. There is _no_ mystery, and there was _no_ wealth, but I have paid the taxes until last year and those Dan shall pay, as I do not want to lose the place. It was to that cabin, as you have often heard us tell, that your mother and I went for our honeymoon. You need not decide today, daughter. If you prefer to go with your friends, I will find a way to send you." CHAPTER V. JANE'S SMALL BROTHER There were many conflicting emotions in the heart of the tall, beautiful girl as she walked slowly back to the house, her father at her side with one arm lovingly about her. "Jane," he said tenderly, "I wish there were words in our English language that could adequately express the joy it is to me because you are so like your mother, and, strangely perhaps, Dan is as much like me as I was at his age as you are like that other Jane. She was tall and willowy, with the same bright, uplifting of her dark eyes when she was pleased." Then the man sighed, and he said almost pleadingly, "You do realize, do you not, daughter, that I would do anything that was right to give you pleasure?" Vaguely the girl replied, "Why, I suppose so, Dad. I don't quite understand ideals and ethics. I've never given much thought to them." Jane could say no more, for, vaulting over the low fence beyond the orchard, a vigorous boy of twelve appeared, and, if ten-year-old Julie had made a terrifying onrush, this boy's attack resembled that of a little wild Indian. "Whoopla!" he fairly shouted, "If here isn't old Jane! Bully, but that's great! Did you bring me anything?" There was no fending off the boy's well meant embraces, and Jane emerged from them with decidedly ruffled feelings. "I certainly don't like to have you call me old Jane," she scolded. "I think it is very lacking in respect. Father, I wish you would tell Gerald to call me Sister Jane." Mr. Abbott reprimanded the crestfallen lad, then he told the girl that the boy had not meant to be disrespectful. "You know, Jane, that children use certain phrases until they are worn ragged, and just now 'old' is applied to everything of which Gerald is especially fond. It is with him a term of endearment." Then, with a smile of loving encouragement for the boy, their father added: "Why, that youngster even calls me 'old Dad' and I confess I rather like it."