“Your sentiments do you honor, Miss Floy,” said Mr. Crosby, “and now I will return to my office and attend to this matter at once. I shall write the heirs, letting them know how entirely they are indebted to you for this accession of property, and urge upon them the justice of allowing you a share in it.” He shook hands with her, said a few encouraging, hopeful words, and departed. “Glad he’s gone at last,” said Susan, putting her head in at the door again. “Thought he never would go, and your dinner is drying up over the fire till ’tain’t hardly fit to eat. Come, Miss Floy, I’ll have it on the table by the time you can get out to the dining-room.” Floy brought little appetite to her meal, and ate mechanically, scarcely knowing what the viands were. She had just risen from the table when Mrs. Alden came in. Floy flushed slightly on seeing her. She knew that Mr. Alden had gone away very angry, and was doubtful how far his wife would be in sympathy with him. But the greeting of the latter was kind and motherly as usual. “I’m so glad the poor head is better again,” she said, kissing the girl affectionately. “You must forgive me for calling Espy away this morning. I had to get him to drive out to the country for butter and eggs, for there were none to be had in town, and I’d nobody else to send. He hasn’t got back yet, or you may be sure he’d have been in again.” Talking on, with hardly a pause for a reply, Mrs. Alden gradually approached the subject of the morning’s conversation between her husband and Floy. “I honor you for your intentions, my dear,” she said. “I know they are altogether good and right, but you’re very young and inexperienced, and I think have a morbid conscientiousness that blinds you to your own interests, and, if you’ll allow me to say it, to Espy’s too, because if you’re going to be man and wife you can’t have separate interests.” “Dear Mrs. Alden,” said Floy, with a patient sigh, “you cannot surely think it is ever right to do evil that good may come, or that ill-gotten wealth will be of real benefit to its possessor?” “No, child, certainly not,” she answered with some annoyance, “but those questions don’t apply in this case. You needn’t be afraid that anything my husband does or advises could be wrong, because he’s too good a man.” It probably did not occur to the loyal wife that she was reversing the Bible test--judging of the fruit by the tree, instead of the tree by its fruit. “I do not think he would do or advise anything that he thought wrong,” returned Floy gently; “but you know each of us must act according to his or her own conscience, and mine absolutely refuses to see this matter as Mr. Alden does.”