think about, and youth passes so quickly that it is criminal to rob it of its golden hour. In such a presence I felt my own spirits rising, my step becoming springy, my whole nature less sluggish, and, had I looked in the mirror, I should have confidently expected to see a youthful bloom in my cheeks and a return of hair to primary conditions.

It is due to this interesting young woman to say that she coyly urged me not to forget my other friends, since I was to leave so soon, and it pleased me to fancy that she was not altogether offended when I spoke somewhat hastily and rather flippantly of those of my former companions who had lapsed into tediousness. I reminded her also that as the happiest memory of my childhood was associated with her mother, so it was sweet to me to be with her and live again, in a pleasant dream, the brightness of the past. Then, for her mother's sake, she shyly let me take her hand while I went over again, not without emotion, the story of my early love. Dear little Sylvia!

The meeting of the committee was followed by a general congregation of citizens, and I was invited to the platform, where I outlined my plans. I hinted that the library was merely the beginning of a number of beneficences which I desired to contribute to Meadowvale's prosperity, and as I looked down upon my listeners and caught sight of Phyllis, glancing up with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, I was nearly betrayed into promises of the most preposterous nature. At the end of my remarks—I recall that I spoke with unusual grace and eloquence—the chairman stood up and gravely thanked me, intimating that I was a credit to Meadowvale and its perfect public school system. I fancy I should have been applauded if it had been compatible with the nature of the people of Meadowvale to make so riotous a demonstration. At the close of the meeting it happened, by the purest accident, that I walked home with Mary and Phyllis, and when Mary said in her blunt way that I really had been most generous, Phyllis did not speak, but she slipped her hand under my arm and gave me an appreciative little squeeze, which made me regret that I had not pledged another thousand.

I was to leave the next morning, thanks to the officious members of the committee, who had so blunderingly hurried matters to accommodate me that I had no longer an excuse of remaining. And it was for this reason that I went in and sat again in the little parlor, while Phyllis sang for me the songs that were my favorites, and some her mother sang in the long ago. Memories were again pleasantly stirred within me, as was not infrequent in those days, and I experienced all the happiness that comes to him who is persuaded that he has made himself a little above the ordinary attractions of the earth. In this excess of good feeling, and stimulated alike by the music and the consciousness of a philanthropic impulse, I waited until the moment of parting before declaring definitely my excellent intentions.

"My dear Mary," I began, turning to that admirable spinster, "you know how our childhood was linked by a close family feeling, and how you and Sylvia and I planned in our simple ambitions to live together in the great world outside. We may say now that this was childish romance, and that the caprice of time has made it an idle fancy. For many years we have been separated, and only by a happy chance have we been brought together. Fortune has been kind to me. I am called a rich man, and I believe I may say without boasting that I am far beyond the need of anxiety. But to a degree I am a lonely man. My sister's child is my one near relative in the world, and he is a young man with an excellent business, able to take care of himself, and naturally engrossed with his own occupations. You can understand that at my time of life, alone as I am, and still young enough to appreciate the joys of living, I have a feeling of desolation for which no riches can compensate. Had fortune given me a daughter, like our Phyllis here, I think no happiness could have been so great. It has pleased me to look back upon the past, to recall the days of our childhood, and to see in Phyllis the image of her mother. Why can I not link the present and the future with the past? Why can I not look on Phyllis as my own daughter, and give to her all the father love I have learned to feel? I do not rob you either of her love or her presence. I merely add a new joy to my life, and know that in caring for you both and in contributing to her happiness, and securing her against misfortune after we are taken away, I am carrying out the pledge, however idle at the time, I made to Sylvia."

I fancied I saw what may have been the suspicion of a tear in Mary Eastmann's eye. It vanished as quickly as it came, and when she spoke and thanked me for my generous offer, her voice was as calm and her manner as collected as if I had made a casual suggestion for attendance at a prayer meeting. She could not deny that the opportunity was too enticing to be ignored, and she admitted that my fatherly proposition was distinctly advantageous. Her New England independence rather revolted at the thought of any immediate financial assistance, which was not needed, while her New England thrift approved a future settlement based on family friendliness of many years' standing. On the whole she was inclined to be favorable to my point of view.

As for Phyllis, she had listened to me with undisguised amazement. Her big gray eyes had grown larger, and the color left her cheeks as I finished. Then the rosy red rushed back, her lip quivered and the tears sprang to her eyes. A moment later she smiled, then laughed, and was serious again. How incomprehensible are these young girls! Poor child! she had never known a father's love.

Phyllis followed me to the door. The light, streaming from the parlor, shone squarely on her exquisite face. A thrill of pleasure went through me as I realized that at last I had a daughter whom I could love and cherish. I took her hand in both of mine, and, as I released it, I parted the light, wavy hair, and kissed her forehead. It seemed to me that she trembled slightly, but in a moment she was herself, and a gleam of merriment was in her eyes, as she said:

"Of course you will write to me—papa?"

Doubtless the novelty of the situation made me just a little embarrassed. To be called "papa" the first time by a pretty girl was more embarrassing than I had expected. And why that half-laugh in her eye, and why that almost quizzical tone? Was I not kind and good enough to be her father, and had I not tried to show her every paternal consideration? Was I not honestly endeavoring to fulfil a sacred pledge? I was perplexed but not discouraged. "I will prove to her," I said to myself with firmness, "that I am entirely worthy of her filial affection, and that she may lean confidently upon me." And I went straightway to bed, and dreamed of her all night as every true father should dream of the daughter of his heart and his hope.

IN the very nature of things it was necessary that I should return frequently to Meadowvale, to confer with the village committee and make all proper arrangements for beginning so important a local enterprise. While this put an end to my projected trip to Europe I accepted the situation with calmness and forbearance, satisfied that in the pursuit of duty and in giving happiness to my fellow