Mary Louise | Page 5

family to their new home in Beverly.
Mary Louise now found she must "get acquainted" with Mamma Bee
and Gran'pa Jim all over again, for during these last three years she had
developed so fast in mind and body that her previous knowledge of her
relatives seemed like a hazy dream. The Colonel also discovered a new
granddaughter, to whom he became passionately attached. For two
years now they had grown together until they were great friends and
cronies.
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.
Mary Louise told her grandfather of the recent edict of Miss Stearne
and the indignation it had aroused in her girl boarders.

"And what do you think of it, Gran'pa Jim?" she asked in conclusion.
"What do YOU think of it, Mary Louise?"
"It is rather hard on the girls, who have enjoyed their liberty for so long;
but I think it is Miss Stearne's plan to keep them away from the picture
theatre."
"And so?"
"And so," she said, "it may do the girls more good than harm."
He smiled approvingly. It was his custom to draw out her ideas on all
questions, rather than to assert his own in advance. If he found her
wrong or misinformed he would then correct her and set her right.
"So you do not approve of the pictures, Mary Louise?"
"Not all of them, Gran'pa Jim, although they all seem to have been
'passed by the Board of Censors'--perhaps when their eyes were shut. I
love the good pictures, and I know that you do, but some we have seen
lately gave me the shivers. So, perhaps Miss Stearne is right."
"I am confident she is," he agreed. "Some