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but melancholy smile curled his lips and he took my hand. "My dear Harriet, don't distress yourself. My father's jeers leave me unscathed. He allows me my books and my pianoforte and a few pencils for sketching; what lore could I ask? And now that you are here, I foresee many hours of shared enjoyment in these simple pleasures.''
    "Yes. . . . Both his sons, you said?"
    Julian laughed. It was a musical sound, but almost as ad as his smile.
    "Poor Harriet! To have two such cousins thrust upon you! Yes, my brother Francis is a ruder edition of my father, just as I am a faded copy. He has the vigor I lack, but no refinement whatever."
    "Where is he now?"
    "In Edinburgh. Studying medicine, of all the ugly, distasteful subjects! How he can bear to touch, let alone dissect-On this one subject my father and I agree. He wanted his eldest son and heir to be a gentleman, but something in Francis' nature seems to attract him to all hat is coarse and vulgar. And when Francis makes up his mind, he is, I assure you, impossible to reason with."
    "I have always admired physicians," I said. "It seems to me the noblest of all callings-to heal broken bodies, soothe pain. ..."
    "How beautifully you express yourself! If I thought that was Francis' reason-But there, perhaps it is. Who am I to judge my neighbor's motives, let alone those of my brother?"
    He smiled again and it was all I could do to keep from putting my arms around him-in a purely maternal fashion-and telling him that everything would be all right. I do feel that physicians follow a noble profession; if I were a man, I might pursue it myself. But, on thinking over what Julian said, and-more important-what he omitted to say, I am glad it is he and not his brother who is living at the manor. Francis sounds a most unattractive person. We are to meet Julian again at dinner and will, I hope, see a great deal of him in future. He really is a charming young man.
    May 7
    Today Mr. Wolfson paid me a great compliment. At least-no, I am sure he meant it as such and that is how I will take it.
    He summoned me to the library this afternoon, the first time I have been invited into his sanctum since the evening of our arrival. He was working busily at some papers when I entered. Once again I was struck by how normal he looks seated behind his desk. Normal only in the physical sense; he is actually far more attractive and alert than the average gentleman.
    He motioned me to take a chair and then came immediately to the point.
    "Do you find life dull, Cousin Harriet?"
    "Why . . . no . . ."
    "Of course you do. A young woman of your intelligence-no, Cousin, don't bridle and look displeased. From some men that might be a left-handed compliment, but I see no reason why the ladies should not use the brains God gave them. Intelligence, properly applied, only adds to a woman's charm."
    The brilliance of his smile, the look in his blue eyes were so compelling that I would have agreed that I had two heads, if he had made that assertion. Under the circumstances I admitted the truth. He nodded, as if satisfied.
    "You as much as told me, the other evening, that you were not a horsewoman. I know you well enough, I believe, to sense that the silly nothings of a woman's day do not amuse you. You prefer activities that have some meaning, some use."
    "I could embroider you a pair of slippers," I said daringly, "with pansies or a sprig of mignonette."
    He threw back his head and laughed resoundingly. "That's precisely what I mean. Embroidery, sketching, music-activities for empty-minded dolls of young ladies." His eye became dull and abstracted; I could almost read his mind. He was thinking of his son, my cousin Julian. Of course I said nothing, and after a moment Mr. Wolf son shook himself, like a thoughtful lion, and resumed.
    'There is something you could do for me, Harriet, if you will. I suggest it partly to give you some employment, partly because I need your help."
    "Of course," I said eagerly. "You have been so