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But whether from Oxford or from Cambridge they were eager that their children born in this New England should have as good an education as their fathers had had in Old England. So when Harry Vane was Governor the colonists voted £400 with which to build a school. This is the first time known to history that the people themselves voted their own money to found a school.

There were whispering and consulting on every side, but the first suggestions fell wide of the mark. "Mrs Vane!" said one, mentioning the name of the giver of the "Alice Prize," which was held in such importance in the school. But no, it was not Mrs Vane.

It was nothing worse than many similar sights he had seen, but Vane as he looked at the wreckage cursed bitterly and fluently. And then of a sudden he stopped cursing, and drew a deep breath. . . . Staring up at him in the cold white light was what was left of the Gunner subaltern. The bomb had burst at the foot of his bed . . . A cheery soul . . . A bitter end . . .

Two sheets of handwriting, with immense spaces between both words and lines "My dear Margot," as a beginning "Your affectionate sister, Agnes Mary Vane," as a conclusion. Thrilling information to the effect that the charwoman was coming on Friday. Complaints of the late arrival of the sweep. Information requested concerning a missing mat which was required to complete a set.

"Victoria, you're a wonder!" he remarked. "Say, do you remember that tall fellow we met at Humphrey's party, Austen Vane?" Yes." "I saw him on the street in Ripton the other day, and he came right up and spoke to me. He hadn't forgotten my name. Now, he'd be my notion of a candidate. He makes you feel as if your presence in the world meant something to him."

At such times Austen would freely acknowledge the debt of gratitude he owed his father for being in the world and refer them politely to Mr. Hilary Vane himself. In most cases they had followed his advice, wondering not a little at this isolated example of quixotism.

He rubbed his eyes and stared, recognized Hilary Vane, and yet failed to recognize him. It was an extraordinary occasion indeed which would cause Mr. McAvoy to lose his aplomb; to neglect to seize the pen and dip it, with a flourish, into the ink, and extend its handle towards the important guest; to omit a few fitting words of welcome.

Sarah Austen had read Emerson in the woods, and her son's question sounded so like the unintelligible but unanswerable flashes with which the wife had on rare occasions opposed the husband's authority that Hilary Vane found his temper getting the best of him The name of Emerson was immutably fixed in his mind as the synonym for incomprehensible, foolish habits and beliefs.

Vane; I doubt if you remember me." Cumberland Vane screwed the eye-glass into his scowling face for an instant, and then said curtly but not uncivilly: "Yes, I remember you, sir; assault or battery, wasn't it? a fellow broke your window. A tall fellow McSomething case made rather a noise afterwards." "MacIan is the name, sir," said Turnbull, respectfully; "I have him here with me."

"I am much obliged," said Turnbull, gruffly. "You must give me time," said MacIan, quite patiently, "for I am trying to tell the whole truth. I am trying to tell more of it than I know." "So you see I confess" he went on with laborious distinctness "I confess that all the people who called our duel mad were right in a way. I would confess it to old Cumberland Vane and his eye-glass.