“There was some such legal quibble,” the Doctor admitted, with a sniff, but he was “very sure that no brave man would ever take an oath for such a reason, and no honest one would ever break one.” He rode off with his head very high. When Still reached home that evening he was in uncommonly good spirits. He was pleasanter than usual to his daughter, who appeared the plainer because of the contrast that her shabby clothes presented to the showy suit which her brother wore. It was to his son, however, that Mr. Still showed his particular good-humor. Wash had just come home for a little visit from the city, where he had been ever since his return from the army, and where he was now studying medicine. He was a tall, slim fellow, very much like his father in appearance, though in place of the rather good-tempered expression which usually sat on the latter’s face, Wash’s look was usually sour and discontented. “Ah, Wash, my son, I did a good stroke of business for you to-day,” said the father that evening at supper. “What was it? Did you buy another farm? You’ll break, buying so much land,” replied his son, pleasantly. Still put aside the ungraciousness of the reply. He was accustomed to his son’s slurs. “Yes and no.” He winked at Virgy, to whom he had already confided something of his stroke of business. He glanced at the door to see that no one was listening, and dropped his voice to his confidential pitch. “I lent the Doctor a leetle money.” He nodded with satisfaction. Wash became interested; but the next instant attempted to appear indifferent. “How much? What security did he give?” “More than he’ll be able to pay for some time, and the security’s all right. Aha! I thought that would wake you up. I’ll lend him some more one of these days and then we’ll get the pay—with interest.” He winked at his son knowingly. “When you’re tryin’ to ketch a shy horse, don’t show him the bridle; When you’ve got him, then—!” He made a gesture of slipping on a halter. This piece of philosophy appeared to satisfy the young man and to atone for the apparent unwisdom of his father’s action. He got into such a good-humor that he began to talk pleasantly with his sister and to ask her about the young men in the neighborhood. It was striking to see how she changed at the notice her brother took of her. The listless look disappeared, and her eyes brightened and made her face appear really interesting. Presently the young man said: “How’s Lord Jacquelin?” At the unexpected question the blood mounted to the girl’s face, and after an appealing look she dropped her eyes quickly. * * * * *