Leonard Jasper would have been less than human had he borne such an
assault upon his feelings without emotion; less than human had his
heart instantly and spontaneously rejected the dying mother's wildly
eloquent appeal. He was bewildered, startled, even deeply moved.

The moment he could, with propriety and a decent regard for
appearances, get away from the house where he had witnessed so painful
a scene, he returned to his place of business in a sobered, thoughtful
state of mind. He had not anticipated so direct a guardianship of
Ruben Elder's child as it was evident would now devolve upon him,
in consequence of the mother's death. Here was to be trouble for
him--this was his feeling so soon as there was a little time for
reaction--and trouble without profit. He would have to take upon
himself the direct charge of the little girl, and duly provide for her
maintenance and education.

"If there is property enough for this, well and good," he muttered
to himself; he had not yet become acquainted with the real state of
affairs. "If not," he added, firmly, "the loss will be hers; that is
all. I shall have sufficient trouble and annoyance, without being put
to expense."

For some time after his return to his store, Jasper refrained from
entering upon any business. During at least fifteen or twenty minutes,
he sat at his desk, completely absorbed in thought. At length he
called to Edward Claire, his principal clerk, and said that he wished
to speak a few words with him. The young man came back from the
counter to where he was sitting, wondering what had produced the very