The Rich Mrs. Burgoyne

r apart, with a little lift at the corners, that, under level heavy brows, gave a suggestion of something almost Oriental to her face. She was dres

ver rank poppies and tangled honeysuckle; once or twice a hummingbird came through the garden on some swift, whizzing journey, and there were other birds in the trees, little shy brown birds, silent but busy in the late afternoon. Close to the house an old garden faucet dripped and dripped, and a noisy, changing group of the brown birds were bathing and flashing about it. The old Hall s

mosaic. The visitors peeped into the old library, odorous of unopened books, and with great curtains of green rep shutting out the light, and into the music room behind it, cold even on this warm day, with a muffled grand piano drawn free of the walls, and near it two piano-stools, upholstered in blue-fringed rep, to match the curtains and chairs. They went across the hall to the long, dim

s perfectly good," the

om, which ran straight across the house, and was low-c

Barry; "they added on the front part

later she caught her breath suddenly, and walked across the room to stand, resting her hands on a chair back, before a large portrait that hung above the f

picture was here." And turning back to the can

her?" Barry as

k stairway, which had a window on every landing and Crimson Rambler roses pressing against every window. They looked into several bedrooms, all dusty, close, sunshiny. In the largest of these, a big front cor

as the best friend, in one way, that I ev

Barry

at him, a little smile playing about her

w you, but the 'Mr. Valentine' confused me." And

rs. For a moment they faced each other; then his look cleare

be hanged! Jap

years. And you're the boy whose father was a doctor, and who helped us build our I

speak French, and who put that stuff on my fr

eir hands still joined, they laug

ss invalidism. Then had come her father's illness, and years of travel with him, and now she and the little girls were alone. And in return Barry sketched his own

he newspaper?" she asked thoughtfull

nd changed to suit Rogers' policies," he went on, as Mrs. Burgoyne's eyes demanded more detail. "And that's what I'll do some day. In the six years since the old man bought it, the circulation has fallen off about half; we don't get any 'ads'; we're not paying expenses. It'

e persisted, pausing on the big main stairway, as

and. Five for the new presses, say, and four to Rogers for the business and good-will, and something to run on-although," Barry interrupted himself with a vehemence that surprised her, "although I'll bet that the old Mail would be paying her o

to stay for years perhaps, and I have some money I want to invest here. I had thought of real estate, but it needn't necessarily be that. I

, perhaps a lit

ut he said he was all tied up. Some of the fellows down in San Francisco mi

est experience I ever had in my life. You see I had a wretchedly artificial childhood; I used to read of country homes and big families and good times in books, but I was an only child, and even then my life was spoiled by sensel

ly and I had our supper on the side porch; and afterward they played in the garden, but I was shy-I had never played-and Mrs. Holly kept me beside her on the porch, and talked to me now and then, and finally she asked me if I would like to spend the summer with her. Like to!-I wonder my heart didn't burst with joy! Father said no; but after we children had gone t

"a boy wouldn't. She died soon after that

her death, then. And even then, I said to myself that I'd come back here, some day. But it's not been possible until now;

not much worse than women everywhere else, but sometimes it doesn't seem as if the women here had good sense. I don't mea

with them?" asked Mrs.

ink people do it in New York, and getting their dresses in San Francisco instead of up here," Barry explained disgustedly. "Some of them would be nice enough if they weren't

ith the babies swinging o

's got to strain and struggle like the rest of them. There's a Mrs. Willard White in this town-that big gray-shingled place down there is their

. Burgoyne, "you've got

y up the country for lunch, and the women have got to have veils and special hats and coats, and so on. Wayne Adams told me it stood him in about thirty dollars every

the alternative is, 'Get a man at seventy-five dollars a month and save repairing and replacing bills.' Nice for business, Barry, but very much overdone for pleasure, I think. I myself hate those days spent with five people you hardl

rden, is the Parker Lloyds. Mrs. Lloyd's a clever woman, and pretty too; but she doesn't seem to have any sense. They've got a little girl, and she'll tell you that Mabel never wore a stitch that wasn't hand-made in her life. Lloyd had a nervous breakdo

rgoyne

ked her she admitted that she had silver, but she said she wanted ivory, everybody has ivory now. Present!" he repeated with scorn, "why, she just told George what she wanted, and went down and charged i

whist club too, and it was very nice. They played for a silver fork and spoon every fortnight, and I remember that Mrs.

ne's still here. She and her brother live in that vault of a gray house; you can see the chimneys. Anne's another," his tone was cynical again, "a shy, nervous woman, always getting new dresses, and always on club receptio

goyne, with her twinkling smile. "You know there is a po

e of which you can't say that," he reminded her soberly

eal, in the last few generations. But things are coming around again." She rose from the steps, still

ly. "So if you need-yeast is

about trains and things. Listen!" Her voice and look changed sudde

ted them as the Carews-George and Jeanette, a bashful fourteen and a self-possessed twelve, and Dick, who was seven-and his own

tte," said Mrs. Burgoyne, easil

d little Billy, raising blue expe

help me with bonfires and about what ought to be done in the stable. You see, I don't know much about those things." At this momen

bright face at the window as the train pulled out in the dusk. He went slowly to his office from the train and attacked the litter of papers and clippings on his desk absent-mindedly. Once