"Although I haven't seen them as lately as you have, yet I can't help thinking, from what you told me, that the Barlows and the St. Clairs would enjoy themselves better if they visited here at different times, and I'm sure the same is true of your Boston cousins.

She is a friend of the Barlows, and lives near them in Philadelphia, and she was visiting them down at Long Island when I was there last summer.

"Not that it's worth while to have everything in such spick-and-span order," said Patty to herself, "for the Barlows won't appreciate it, and what's more they'll turn everything inside out and upside down before they've been in the house an hour.

The Barlows never catch the train they intend to take.

But I've never seen her except with the Barlows, and when she was down at the Hurly-Burly she was just about as uncertain as the rest of them.

"Never once thought of it," said Bob, "You know the Barlows are not noted for ingenuity.

The Vernondale young people were quite ready to provide pleasures for Patty's guests, and the appreciation shown by Nan and the Barlows was a decided and very pleasant contrast to the attitude of Ethelyn and Reginald.

CHAPTER XXII AT THE SEASHORE Toward the end of August the Barlows' visit drew toward its close.

Of the Quaifes and the Scottons and the Barlows I have nothing but dreary memories.

Old Barlow, they call him.'

'It must be old Barlow,' replied Steadman.

He walked on with his swinging step, and at such a pace that he was up the side of the Fell and close upon old Barlow's heels when Hammond turned to look after him five minutes later.

'Pray, do you happen to know a man called Barlow, a very old man?' 'Old Sam Barlow,' exclaimed Mary; 'why, of course I know him.

'Pray, do you happen to know a man called Barlow, a very old man?' 'Old Sam Barlow,' exclaimed Mary; 'why, of course I know him.

Everybody likes old Sam Barlow.'

Like all the other Barlows of Barnstable on Cape Cod, Billy had worked for his every penny.

After his being freed from his twelve years' imprisonment, wherein he had time to furnish the world with sundry good books, etc., and by his patience to move Dr. Barlow, the then Bishop of Lincoln, and other churchmen, to pity his hard and unreasonable sufferings so far as to procure his enlargement, or there perhaps he had died by the noisomeness and ill-usage of the place.

Barlow came admirably fitted, and this good preparation, standing back of great quickness and power of mind, made it easy for him almost without study to take a leading place.

He danced and paraded before the conclave and had no difficulty in turning the session into a wild revel of extravagant guffaws and antics, and after that time the occasions were many when Barlow gave a comic turn to things serious.

As I review those early years I can see now that Barlow then gave plain signs of the qualities which he was later to display.

Barlow was really not unlike the youthful Napoleon, in frame he was slender and delicate, his complexion verged toward the olive, his face was always beardless.

Had Barlow been there he might have done something to stay the disaster.

An old soldier, a lieutenant that day under Barlow, told me that he had charge of the ambulances of the division and on the march near Emmitsburg Barlow put into the lieutenant's especial charge the ambulance of his wife who, with a premonition of calamity, insisted on being near at hand to help.

Barlow was again desperately wounded, so hurt that his death seemed inevitable, and when the faithful wife, at last making her way, presented herself even in the rebel lines with a petition for her husband, supposed to be dying, Gordon chivalrously gave him up.

The photograph of Barlow, published after his death in the Harvard Graduates' Magazine, presents him as he was soon after the war was over.