less self-reliant sister. Marion Hildreth was just Evadne's age, with a
pink and white beauty and soft eyes which turned deprecatingly at
intervals towards Isabelle, as though to ask pardon for imaginary
solecisms against Miss Hildreth's code of etiquette.

The covers were being changed for the second course when a servant
entered and approached the Judge, bearing a cablegram upon a silver
salver. He ran his eyes hastily over its contents, then he leaned back
heavily against his chair, while an expression of genuine sorrow settled
down upon his face.

"Your Uncle Lenox is dead," he said briefly, as the girls plied him with
questions.

"Dead!" Mrs. Hildreth's voice broke the hush which had fallen in the
room. "Why, Lawrence, this is very sudden! We have looked upon Lenox as
being perfectly well."

"It is not safe to count anyone well, Kate, who carries such a lurking
serpent in his bosom. Only forty-three! Just in his prime. Poor Len!"
The Judge leaned his head upon his hand, while his thoughts were busy
with memories of the gay young brother who had filled the old homestead
with his merry nonsense.

"And what will become of Evadne?" Again Mrs. Hildreth's voice broke the
silence.

"Evadne?" the Judge looked full in his wife's face. "Why, my dear, there
is only one thing to be done. I shall cable immediately to have her come
to us." He rose from the table, his dinner all untasted, and left the