As for Mrs. Burrows, she seemed to have devoted her whole life to her father, the Colonel.  She had lost much of her former beauty and had become a thin, pale woman with anxious eyes and an expectant and deprecating air, as if always prepared to ward off a sudden blow.  Her solicitude for the old Colonel was almost pathetic and while he was in her presence she constantly hovered around him, doing little things for his comfort which he invariably acknowledged with his courtly bow and a gracious word of thanks.

It was through her association with this cultured old gentleman that Mary Louise had imbibed a certain degree of logic and philosophy unknown to many girls of fifteen.  He taught her consideration for others as the keynote of happiness, yet he himself declined to mingle with his fellow men.  He abhorred sulking and was always cheerful and pleasant in his home circle, yet when others approached him familiarly he resented it with a frown.  He taught his granddaughter to be generous to the poor and supplied her freely with money for charity, yet he personally refused all demands upon him by churches or charitable societies.

In their long talks together he displayed an intimate acquaintance with men and affairs, but never referred in any way to his former life.

“Are you really a colonel?” Mary Louise once asked him.

“Men call me so,” he replied, but there was a tone in his voice that warned the girl not to pursue the subject further.  She knew his moods almost as well as her mother did.

The Colonel was very particular as to dress.  He obtained his own clothing from a New York tailor and took a keen interest in the gowns of his daughter and of Mary Louise, his taste in female apparel being so remarkable that they were justly considered the best dressed women in Beverly.  The house they were living in contained an excellent library and was furnished in a quaint, old-fashioned manner that was very appealing to them all.  Mary Louise sincerely hoped there would be no more changes in their lives and that they might continue to live in Beverly for many years to come.

CHAPTER III

A SURPRISE

On the afternoon when our story begins Mary Louise walked home from school and found Colonel Weatherby waiting for her in the garden, leggings strapped to his gaunt legs, the checked walking-cap on his head, a gold-headed crop in his hand.

“Let us go for a walk, my dear,” he proposed.  “It is Friday, so you will have all day to-morrow in which to get your lessons.”

“Oh, it won’t take all day for that,” she replied with a laugh.  “I’ll be glad of the walk.  “Where shall we go, Gran’pa Jim?”

“Perhaps to the mill-race.  We haven’t visited it for a long time.”

She ran to the house to put away her books and get her stout shoes, and presently rejoined him, when together they strolled up the street and circled round the little town until they came to the river bank.  Then they followed the stream toward the old mill.