“And so your friend is to be here to-morrow?” he asked of Mrs. Brayton. “We do not know yet if we can call him our friend,” replied she, “but I wrote him we were coming here, and he replied that this would be as convenient as any other place. Now he writes that he will arrive to-morrow.” “It seems so like a romance,” began Sibyl, “I can hardly believe it to be real, but----” “Real or not real,” said George, “the legacy will pay off our mortgages and make us very comfortable. So I shan’t have to drudge out my life at Ogleport with Dr. Dryer. Then if the rest should come!” “I feel almost sure it won’t,” exclaimed Sibyl. “Seems to me it really belongs to some one else, and I hope he may get it.” “Money is a very useful thing, Sibyl,” said Mrs. Brayton, with a smile. “When you are older you may not think so lightly of it.” “And yet, mother,” said George, “Sibyl is right. Besides, we are very much in the dark till we have heard the whole of the story.” Nevertheless, little as they might know, they continued to discuss it until a much later hour than those commonly kept by the boarders at Mrs. Wood’s. Bar and Val, in their own room, were at the same time busily engaged in a discussion of the several events of the day, including Judge Danvers and Sibyl Brayton. Bar, indeed, was more than usually frank with his friend, and Val was beginning to take a deeper interest than ever in his remarkable chum. “Depend upon it, Bar,” he said, “old Judge Danvers didn’t travel all the way up here for nothing. I shall expect that telegram, now, every day till it comes.” “So shall I,” replied Bar. Nevertheless, they were destined to go on “expecting” for more days than were at all comfortable for the uneasy heads of such a pair of boys, though Bar Vernon seemed to “bear up” under the trial of his patience a good deal better than did Val. The next day, of course, was crammed full of “school,” and Bar Vernon’s first surprise came in the shape of a discovery that it would not be half so hard as he had feared for him to keep up with the several “classes” in which he found himself. He would, as Brayton showed him, have to do a good deal of “back study,” going over a great deal of ground that was all an old story to the rest; but then, with such a memory as his and with plucky hard work, he would soon make it all up. Especially as in several important branches, he would hardly have to study at all, as yet, and could give his whole time to the things in which he was “behind.” That was a hard day’s duty for George Brayton, but he stuck to it manfully, although well aware that his mother and sister and their very important visitor were impatiently waiting for him most of the afternoon. He managed to elude Dr. Dryer at the close, however, and the boys themselves were hardly out of the building more promptly than was the new “assistant,” a circumstance which by no means eluded the keen eyes of Effie Dryer’s stepmother.