From the Housetops

m. There was not an object in the room that did not possess for him a peculiar claim of intimacy. Here he had dreamed of paradise with Anne, and here h

eatened. These things represented greed. They had always represented greed. They had been saved out of the wreck that befell the Tresslyn fortunes when Anne was a young girl entering h

ouse that, fortuitously, had been in her name at the time of the smash. A paltry sum indeed! Barely enough to feed and clothe one hundr

ing of discordant instruments, such as writs and attachments and the wails of insufferable creditors who made the usual mistake of thinking that a man's home is his castle and therefore an object of reprisal. The splendid porcelains, the incomparable tapestries and the small but exquisite paintings remained where they had been placed by the amiable but futile Arthur, and all the king's men and all the king

herished among heirlooms that never had had a price put upon them. Of all the boys who came to the Tresslyn house, young Braden Thorpe was the heir with the most potent possibility. He did not know it then, but now he knew that on the occasion of his smash

of marble is to the eye that gazes upon it in rapt admiration. She had trained herself to smile in the face of the disagreeable; she had acquired the art of tranquillity. This long anticipated interview with her daughter's cast-off, bewildered lover was inevitable. They had k

ant nothing to her. Her world was complete without him. He possessed her daughter's love,-and all the love she would ever know perhaps,-but even that did not produce within her the slightest qualm. Doubtless Anne would go

e quite as satisfactory as if Anne were to utter them herself. It all came to the same th

about? Things always shape themselves after the easiest possible fashion. It wasn't as if she was marrying a young man with money. Mrs. Tresslyn had seen things shape themselves before. Moreover, she rather hated the thought o

ain to-morrow, perhaps,-but even at his worst he could not be a dangerous visitor. He was a gentlema

you tell Anne that I'll be h

urse," said Mrs. Tressly

n his overcoat pockets. In his haste to get away from the house, he had fairly flung himself into the ulster that Rawson held for him, and the c

but not in his sombre eyes. He was returning to his grandfather's house because he had promised to come back and tell the old man how he had fared at the home of his betrothed. The old man had said to him earlier in the afternoon that he would know more about women than h

d from the room, he found Mr. Thorpe's man standing in the hall outside the door, j

ler could do that, or the parlour-maid, if the former happened to be tipsier than usual. Wade always kept his head cocked a little to one side, in the attitude of one listening, and so long had he been at it that it is doubtful if he could have cocked it the other way wi

down Fifth Avenue on the s

d, surprised to find the man at the foot of the s

was a na?ve way of explaining that Mr. Thorpe did not want him to have his ear cocked in the hall during the conversation that was to be resumed after an advisable interval. Ob

at I am a doctor. I never take medi

d idea, sir

to Anne, in the cosy little boudoir at

uld have said things to you that you could not have forgiven. As it is, you have nothing to forgive,

ce in the shadows. Even in the dim, colourless light of the waning day, she

ok?" Her head was bent and she looked at her mother from beneath pain-contracted

ou," replied Mrs. Tresslyn, with the utmost composure. "So dry your eyes. He did

oved me?" cried the girl, lifting

,-tr

eyes with a fre

it faced the couch. Then she threw herself upon the latter and, reaching out with a slender f