Uncle Nathan was busy wiping the tears from his brown eyes, that were full of tender light as those of a rabbit. It was seldom that he awoke to a sense of worldly wisdom; but the helplessness of the young creatures before him, for once overcame his benevolence. "Oh, Hannah, what would become of them when we get too old for work?" "We are too old, now," answered the sister, "but put all this on one side. If you and I were rich enough to make them and theirs comfortable, what would you say then?" "What would I say--why, God bless them and multiply them upon the face of the earth! That's what I would say!" "And I," responded aunt Hannah, solemnly, "would answer amen!" With a dignity that was very impressive, she took the clasped hands of the youth and maiden between both hers and once more she uttered the word "amen" All this time Isabel Chester, pale and feeble from illness, sat in an easy-chair upon the hearth, filled with self-compassion, and yet feeling a generous pleasure that others could be happy though she was so very desolate. Thus ten o'clock drew on, and the clergyman knocked at the front door. Aunt Hannah stood stiffly upright for a moment, as if nerving herself, then, turned toward the family. "Come!" she said. "It is twenty-one years to-day, since our sister died, come!" CHAPTER L. EXPLANATIONS AND EXPEDIENTS. It was a scene of solemn power and force, That woman, standing there, with marble face, As cold and still as any sheeted corse, The martyr herald of her own disgrace. Meantime another strange scene was going on at the Farnham mansion. On that day young Farnham was of age. His mother was to give up her trust as associate guardian, and for the first time in his life, the young man would have a right to question and act for himself. The counsellor whom Mrs. Farnham had summoned from the city--a shrewd, unscrupulous lawyer, was present with his accounts. The young man held these documents in his hand, with an angry flush upon his brow. "And so this testament left me still a slave!" he exclaimed, passionately. "In all things where a man should be free as thought, I am bound eternally." "You were only required not to marry against this lady's consent," answered the lawyer; "in all things else, as I am informed, this great property, subject to the lady's dower of course, was left to your control." "In all things else!" exclaimed the youth, bitterly. "Why, this is everything." "Certainly, certainly," answered the lawyer, "you see now the great self-sacrifice made by this inestimable lady, when she destroyed the will, leaving you encumbered only with a moral obligation" "Which she knew to be fifty times as binding," said Farnham, glancing sternly at his mother.