“The master wants to see Master Tom for a few moments,” said the butler. The little lad tremblingly went to his benefactor. “You wanted me, sir?” asked he softly. “Yes. Come here, lad. Would you like to go away to a good school for boys?” “And leave Annie?” faltered the boy. “Of course,” replied Benson; “but you don’t always want to be around with girls, do you?” “Is George going?” “Yes.” “Then I suppose I’ll have to go,” sobbed Tommy; “but I don’t want to leave Annie.” “Annie will go to school herself very soon,” said the millionaire, “and then you would be left alone.” Gloom seemed to settle over the childish hearts in the home as both boys vied with each other for most of Annie’s attention, and Tom won out, for the little girl could not forget that George had taken money from her dear father, and the lad pondered long over his cousin’s changed attitude. * * * * * The children all went away to school, the millionaire thinking it best to keep his girl from the two boys, who might captivate her childish heart, but little he thought that his ambitions for her would be dashed to the ground by one wave of the tiny white hand. For four years the children met only in summer, when the girl went traveling with a chaperone and the boys stayed at home upon the estate. Scarcely ever did they go to New York city to live in the mansion excepting at Christmas, when the family were in the city. One holiday Annie came home in a different mood than ever before, and her face would color up when spoken to sharply or when surprised. Her father and the boys noticed the difference, but not one could understand the cause. She had very little to say to any one, and one afternoon her father called her to his study. “Little maid,” said he tenderly, “is there anything your father can say to you that will make you any happier than you now are? Even Tommy noticed that you were not your usual self.” “Tommy is only a child, father,” said the girl impetuously, “and he does not know what it means to think.” “Neither should you, child,” replied Mr. Benson; “you are but sixteen. What have you in your life to make you so thoughtful, or I might say unhappy?” “Not unhappy, father, not that,” cried the girl. “Then, what?” “Why--why--nothing. I am worried over my studies.” Mr. Benson sighed. He would have given much to have had his child give him her confidence. Her little heart was completely locked and would not open for his knocking. “You are positive that you are quite happy?” “Quite positive.” “And that you do not want for money?” “Oh, father dear, all the girls say how generous you are with me.” “Then there is nothing more I can say, is there?” He said this pleadingly, because his heart was filled with sorrow for his darling. Suddenly she burst into tears, and the curly head dropped upon his arm and the child wept heartily. After that there was more sympathy between them.