e said
thoughtfully. "Shouldn't wonder if he regretted now that he didn't."

"Roger cares for you more than any other man in the world," she cried.
There was a catch in her voice, why, she did not know. "You've done
wonders--you've made that boy a man. You're his mainstay. I can't
ever...." She attributed the lump which persisted in rising in her
throat to her affection for her brother. That is, she tried to attribute
it to that.

"I'm his mainstay no longer," he corrected her gravely. "I did what I
could for him. Now it's up to Molly. But her task is easy. The boy's
under his own steam now."

"You think so?" The pride and joy in her eyes were unmistakable. But
there was something else there which one less obtuse than Good would
have seen even more clearly.

"No question about it. He took hold from the start. He's proved his
ability. He's the actual business head of the organisation now--truly he
is. When Jenkins left, Roger stepped right into his place and the ranks
never wavered. The lad's been slow in finding himself--no doubt of that.
But that's all over. His girl's wise--she knows. The world will know it
soon, too. Why, if I wasn't there to prevent it, he'd make _The
Dispatch_ into a money-maker in no time!" The last words were said with
a twinkle in his eyes, but it seemed to Judith that a certain sadness
lay behind the jest.

"I'm so glad," she cried. "He's meant so much to me."

"Doesn't he now?" he smiled.

"Of course. But I don't see much of him now. He's at the Wolcotts'
constantly. He's almost as fond of the Judge, you know, as he is of
Molly."

"So I've heard," said Good with a curious little laugh which she did not
understand.

"He has good stuff in him--and bad. I never knew which would triumph."

"And you never will," he said simply. "He's human, you know. But the
odds are on your side now."

"I'm so glad--so glad--and so grateful...."

They were silent again. Suddenly the darkness fell, blotting out
everything around them. Lights began to twinkle through the trees. A dog
barked mournfully. It was much colder. As the daylight passed, the world
passed with it. They were isolated, Judith's beauty and her home and the
polish of her finger-nails as buried in oblivion as the gaunt ugliness
of the man beside her. All the horde of little things, which in the day
mattered so much, now seemed to matter not at all. They stood, naked of
all trappings, soul to soul.

"I've got to go," muttered Good