trunks in myself, ain't but small ones, they ain't"—and he hurried from the room, as though fearful that Madison might secure a share in the honors.
"I guess you've made a hit with Mr. Higgins, Helena," observed Madison, with a grin.
"Have I?" returned Helena absently; then abruptly: "This is a real nice lay you've steered me into, John Madison."
"Yes; not bad," said Madison complacently. "Bring your uncle into the front room, Helena; and then you can get Hiram to show you the well and the old oaken bucket and where the pantries and cupboards are, he knows more about them than I do—it's pretty near time for you to be thinking about getting supper."
"Are you going to stay for it?" inquired Helena pertly.
"For the first attempt!" ejaculated Madison, with a wry face. "Good Heavens, no! I'm just convalescing from a serious illness."
In the front room Madison settled himself to a study of the Patriarch's beaming, happy face, while Helena under Mr. Higgins' attentive guidance explored the cottage.
"D'ye know, old chap," he said, and leaned across the table to touch the Patriarch's hand, "I feel like a blooming philanthropist. An outsider might think I was playing you pretty low and taking advantage of you, and even Helena's got a budding hunch that way it seems—but just think of the mess you'd have been in if it wasn't
