MRS. GRAHAM AT HOME.

As the summer advanced, extensive preparations were commenced for
repairing Woodlawn, which was to be fitted up in a style suited to
the luxurious taste of its rightful owner, which, as report said, was
in reality Durward. He had conceived a fancy for the place five
years before, when visiting in the neighborhood, and on learning that
it was for sale, he had purchased it, at the suggestion of his
mother, proposing to his father that for a time, at least, he should
be its nominal possessor. What reason he had for this he hardly knew
himself, unless it was that he disliked being flattered as a man of
great wealth, choosing rather to be esteemed for what he really was.

And, indeed, few of his age were more generally beloved than was he.
Courteous, kind-hearted, and generous almost to a fault, he gained
friends wherever he went, and it was with some reason that Mrs.
Graham thought herself blessed above mothers, in the possession of
such a son. "He is so like me," she would say, in speaking of his
many virtues, when, in fact, there was scarcely anything in common
between them, for nearly all of Durward's sterling qualities were
either inherited from his own father, or the result of many years'
companionship with his stepfather. Possessed of the most exquisite
taste, he exercised it in the arrangement of Woodlawn, which, under
his skillful management, began in a few weeks to assume a more
beautiful appearance than it had ever before worn.

Once in two weeks either Mr. Graham or Durward came out to see how
matters were progressing, the latter usually accepting Mrs.
Livingstone's pressing invitation to make her house his home. This
he was the more willing to do, as it threw him into the society of