She stepped to her room and freshened herself with a soft lace necktie and a few bright leaves in her hair and at her throat, so that Grandpa's old eyes might imagine he had a lady in full dress at his table. Then she sat down and presided over the tea-urn with all due dignity and grace, taking care to have everything just as he liked it; the table in faultless array, and Gretchen with spotless apron in waiting, and certain other little ceremonies that he was fond of keeping up. Supper over, and Mr. Winthrop comfortably established with his paper, Lily slipped off to the greenhouse to pot her ferns and violets. This was her workshop; here she toiled early and late, surreptitiously often, for it grieved the grandfather sorely that his darling had been brought to such straits, so she managed by various small strategies to keep from him the full extent of her labors. It was the old story—unfortunate speculations—signing a note for another, etc., and a fortune had taken wings. Affluence and luxury had been exchanged for poverty, debts and anxieties. Lily had been bequeathed to her grandfather at the death of her widowed mother. So they two, the first and the last of the family, had been left alone in the old homestead; and it had been a happy life until this great change. Mr. Winthrop came out of the storm with nothing left but a small bank account. A lifelong friend bought the residence at auction sale, telling Mr. Winthrop to stay just where he was; that when he needed the place he would let him know, giving him plainly to understand, however, that probably he should never ask him to leave it. And now the question arose as to what could be done to eke out a support without consuming at once the little they possessed. Mr. Winthrop had long since given up active business life; if there had been anything for him to do he was too feeble and aged to attempt it. Lily was a proficient in music, but, alas! there were many teachers and much competition. She succeeded by dint of great exertion in obtaining two or three pupils. They had many friends in their prosperous days who were "very sorry" for them now, but who considered it their solemn duty to employ none but German professors.