“I used to imagine Mr. Kendall cared more for his adopted daughter than for his son, from what I saw of them, and I was at the house a good deal with Phil.  I am sure they were very affectionate; and it was only natural that the melancholy old man—­that is the way he always struck me—­should have loved the daughter of the woman who had deserted him and then turned toward him in her hour of supreme need.  It showed that her trust and belief in him and his goodness had never really left her.  And, besides, Grace was always so airy and light-hearted,—­nothing could put her out of humor,—­so kind and gentle, and as lovely as a flower.  She is a splendid-looking woman yet, but one can have no idea of what she was in those days, from the sad-eyed Mrs. Herbert who smiles so rarely on any one but her little girl.  Nannie is going to make much such a young lady as her mother was, but I don’t believe she will ever be quite so beautiful.

“Well, I was not long in discovering that Phil was in love with his father’s adopted daughter.  I was never quite sure whether he knew it himself at the time or not, but I could see easily enough that she didn’t dream of such a thing, nor the old captain either.  They were so much like brother and sister it used to make me feel wofully sorry for Phil to see her throw her arms around his neck and kiss him for some little kindness or other that he was always doing her:  the difference of mood in which the caress would be given from that in which Phil would receive it was somehow always painful to me.  Phil would never offer to kiss her on his own account; and it is still a mystery to me why she never discovered how he felt toward her until he became jealous.  The tenderness and gentle considerateness of his bearing were always so marked that to a less innocent and pure nature, I fancy, it would have been noticeable at once.

“When we were Juniors, Phil took her to a party one night, just after Easter.  The captain was a scrupulous Churchman, and Grace was always by him in the pew.  She had not been confirmed, however, and never said a word to Phil and me about our persistency in staying away from church, though the captain used to lecture Phil quite soberly about it.  This party was given at the house of one of the vestrymen, and they had refreshments, and, after the rector had gone home, dancing.  They called it a sociable, and took up a collection for the ladies’ aid society just after the cake and coffee and whipped cream had been served.  There was where Grace first met George Herbert.  He was a handsome young fellow, well educated, a graduate of some Eastern college, clever and talented, and his family in Rochester, New York, were considered very good people.  He had come to Lincoln to take a place on the ‘Gazette,’ and every one thought him a young man of good parts and fair prospects.