The Girl at Cobhurst | Page 9

later, but then they do not begin so soon. As to finishing my
education, as they call it, I shall do that at home. What a happy thought!
It makes me want to skip. And you are to be my teacher, Ralph. I am
sure you know everything that I shall need to know."
Ralph laughed.

"I suppose you will examine me to see what I do know," he said, as he
folded a heavy overcoat and laid it in the trunk.
Miriam sprang up and began to collect more of her effects.
"We shall see about that," she said, and then, suddenly stopping, she
turned toward her brother. "There is one thing, Ralph, about which I
need not examine you at all, and that is goodness of heart. If you had
not had a very good heart indeed, you would not have waited and
waited and waited--fairly pinching yourself, I expect--till I could get
away from school and we could both go together and look at our new
home in the very same instant."
Ralph Haverley was a brown-haired, bright-eyed young fellow under
thirty. He had been educated for a profession, but the death of his
parents, before he reached his majority, made it necessary for him to go
to work at something by which he could immediately earn money
enough to support not only himself, but his little sister. At his father's
death, which occurred a month or two after that of his mother, young
Haverley found that the family resources, which had never been great,
had almost entirely disappeared. He could barely scrape together
enough money to send Miriam to a boarding-school and to keep
himself alive until he could get work. He had spent a great part of his
boyhood in the country. His tastes and disposition inclined him to an
out-door life, and, had he been able, he would have gone to the West,
and established himself upon a ranch. But this was impossible; he must
do the work that was nearest at hand, and as soon as he found it, he set
himself at it with a will.
For eight long years he had struggled and labored; changing his
occupation several times, but always living in the city; always making
his home in a boardinghouse or a hotel. His pluck and energy had had
its reward, and for the past three years he had held a responsible and
well-paid position in a mercantile house. But his life and his work had
for him nothing but a passing interest; he had no sympathy with bonded
warehouses, invoices, and ledgers. All he could look forward to was a
higher position, a larger salary, and, when Miriam should graduate, a
little home somewhere where she could keep house for him. In his

dreams of this home, he would sometimes place it in the suburbs,
where Sundays and holidays spent in country air would compensate for
hasty breakfasts, early morning trains, and late ones in the afternoon.
But when he reflected that it would not do to leave his young sister
alone all day in a thinly settled, rural place, at the mercy of tramps, he
was forced to the conclusion that the thing for them to do was to live in
a city apartment. But there was nothing in either of these outlooks to
create fervent longings in the soul of Ralph Haverley.
For some legal reason, probably connected with the fact that old
Butterwood died at a health resort in Arkansas, Haverley did not learn
until late in the winter that his mother's uncle had left to him the estate
of Cobhurst. The reason for this bequest, as stated in the will, was the
old man's belief that the said Ralph Haverley was the only one of his
blood relations who seemed to be getting on in the world, and to him he
left the house, farm, and all the personal property he might find therein
and thereon, but not one cent of money. Where the testator's money
was bestowed, Ralph did not know, for he did not see the will.
When Ralph heard of his good fortune, his true life seemed to open
before him; his Butterwood blood boiled in his veins. He did not
hesitate a moment as to his course, for he was of the opinion that if a
healthy young man could not make a living out of a good farm he did
not deserve to live at all. He gave immediate notice of his intention to
abandon mercantile life, and set himself to work by day and by night to
wind up his business affairs, so that he might be free by the beginning
of April. It was this work which helped him to control his desire to run
off and take a