of her other good gifts, as any man could wish. But Manderson, for some time past, had made her miserable.'
'What did he do?' asked Trent, as Mr. Cupples paused.
'When I put that question to Mabel, her words were that he seemed to nurse a perpetual grievance. He maintained a distance between them, and he would say nothing. I don't know how it began or what was behind it; and all she would tell me on that point was that he had no cause in the world for his attitude. I think she knew what was in his mind, whatever it was; but she is full of pride. This seems to have gone on for months. At last, a week ago, she wrote to me. I am the only near relative she has. Her mother died when she was a child; and after John Peter died I was something like a father to her until she married–that was five years ago. She asked me to come and help her, and I came at once. That is why I am here now.'
Mr. Cupples paused and drank some tea. Trent smoked and stared out at the hot June landscape.
'I would not go to White Gables,' Mr.
