While he asked it, she was gone, and, as he stood wondering where he had seen the face before, there came a dim memory floating about it like a frame, of a blue September sky, bright leaves and ferns, and then he knew where. He resolved to know more of one apparently in deep trouble of some kind. He searched the directory, found the street and number, and soon after walked by the house. Yes, there was the name "Winthrop" on the door-plate, the letters nearly defaced by time, and the grand old place giving evidence that its owner had been growing old and poor. He saw the grand-looking old man, too, walking up and down the long veranda, his white hair blowing in the November wind, his hands crossed behind him, his head down, musing, the young man thought, on the past that had been lived in that house, and the future that was to be lived—where? His heart went out in tender pity over him, and Mr. Thornton's pity was not wont to spend itself in mere emotions. He stepped into a street-car on his way home. There were but two passengers besides himself for several squares—two ladies, who, living in the same vicinity, and having just passed the house, were, naturally enough, discussing the very persons who occupied his thoughts just then. "I'm sure I don't know what they are to do?" one said. "They are obliged to leave that house by Christmas. Just think of that! As many grand Christmas doings as they have had there! Pretty gay the old house used to be when Lily's father and mother were living. I should think it would break the old man's heart to go then; the contrast would be so sharp; his children gone, his wife gone, and now the old place must go, too." "Yes, it is hard," the other lady replied, "but he has a great deal to be thankful for yet. He has his religion left, and the dearest comfort in Lily that anybody ever had. Lily is a noble girl. It is perfectly marvelous what she has accomplished. She has taken the entire care of the greenhouse and worked like any market woman; sold plants and flowers enough to realize a nice sum, besides teaching two or three music scholars. They have a little money left yet, I hear, and could probably get along nicely, situated as they were, but, as you say, I don't see just what they will do now. Old Mr. Winthrop is so much respected people would help them, I dare say, if they thought of it, but he is the last one to give hints, or even let them know how he is situated; pretty proud, the old gentleman is, but it is not to be wondered at, he's always been up, and he don't know how to come down." "Everything would have turned out all right," said the first speaker, "if Mr. Walters had just put into his will what he intended to. He mentioned to several that he should give the place in the end to Lily. If only people would not procrastinate."