“Petunias were being adjusted on a four per cent basis; Dutchess and Columbia Traction was holding its own; I could not complain of Amalgamated Electric, though it was now lower than when I had bought it, while had I sold it on that Wednesday in May when Ethel begged me, before the increased dividend turned out a mistake, I should have made money. But Philippi Sewers were threatened; Pasteurised Feeders had been numb since June; Pollyopolis Heat, Light, Power, Paving, Pressing, and Packing was going to pass its quarterly dividend; and Standard Egg had gone down from 63 to 7 1/8. My million dollars on paper now was worth in reality less than a quarter of that sum, and although we could still make both ends meet fairly well in some place where you wouldn’t want to live, like Philadelphia, in New York we should drop into a pinched and dwarfed obscurity.” “I must say now, and I shall never forget, that Ethel during these gloomy weeks behaved much better than I did. The grayer the outlook became, the more words of hope and sense she seemed to find She reminded me that, after all my Uncle Godfrey’s legacy had been a thing unlooked for, something out of my scheme of life that I had my youth, my salary and my writing; and that she would wait till she was as old at Mr. Beverly’s mother.” “It was the thought of that lady which brought from Ethel the only note of complaint she uttered in my presence during that whole dreary month.” “We were spending Sunday with a house party at Hyde Park; and driving to church, we passed an avenue gate with a lodge. ‘Rockhurst, sir,’ said the coachman. ‘Whose place?’ I inquired. ‘The old Beverly place, sir.’ Ethel heard him tell me this; and as we went on, we saw a carriage and pair coming down the avenue toward the gate with that look which horses always seem to have when they are taking the family to church on Sunday morning.” “‘If I see her,’ said Ethel to me as we entered the door, ‘I shall be unable to say my prayers.’” “But only young people came into the Beverly pew, and Ethel said her prayers and also sang the hymn and chants very sweetly.” “After the service, we strolled together in the old and lovely grave yard before starting homeward. We had told them that we should prefer to walk back. The day was beautiful, and one could see a little blue piece of the river, sparkling.” “‘Here is where they are all buried,’ said Ethel, and we paused before brown old headstones with Beverly upon them. ‘Died 1750; died 1767,’ continued Ethel, reading the names and inscriptions. ‘I think one doesn’t mind the idea of lying in such a place as this.’” “Some of the young people in the pew now came along the path. ‘The grandchildren,’ said Ethel. ‘She is probably too old to come to church. Or she is in Europe.’”