and
spoilt all."

"Did you seek me out to-night to tell me this?" she steadied herself to
ask.

He lowered his eyes. "I want you to write a letter for me," he said, and
added, after a pause. "That's what comes of wanting education."

Another and a very awkward pause followed. This discovery of his
illiteracy shocked and hurt her inexpressibly. She could not even say
why. Good sense warned her even in the instant of disappointment that a
man might not know how to read or write and yet be none the less a good
man and trustworthy. And even though the prejudice of her calling made
her treat the defect too seriously, why in Tom Trevarthen should that
shock her which in other seamen she took as a matter of course?

Yet in her shame for him she could lift her eyes; and he still kept his
lowered upon the floor.

"To whom do you want me to write?" she asked.

"It's to a girl," he answered doggedly; and the words seemed to call up a
dark flush in his face, which a moment before had been unwontedly pale--
though this she did not perceive.

"A girl?"

"That's so; a girl, miss, if you don't mind--a girl as it happens I'm fond
of."

"A love-letter? Is that what you mean?"

"If you don't mind, Miss Marvin?"

"Why on earth should I mind?" she asked, with a heat unintelligible to
herself as to him.

A suspicion crossed her mind that the young woman might not be
over-respectable; but she dismissed it. If the message were such as she
could indite, she had no warrant to inquire further; and yet, "Is it quite
fair to her?" she added.

The question plainly confused him. "Fair, miss?"

"You told me a minute ago that you found it hard to earn money for your
mother; and now it seems you think of marrying."

"No, miss," said he simply; "I can't think of it at all. And that's
partly what I want to tell her."

Hester frowned. "It's queer you should come to me, whom you accuse of
interfering to your harm. If I am guilty on other counts, I am guilty too
of coming between you and this young woman."

He smiled faintly. "And that's true in a way," he allowed; "but you'll
see I don't bear malice. The letter'll prove that, if so be you'll kindly
write it for me."

He said it appealingly, with his hand on the doorhandle. She bent her
head in consent. Flinging the door open, he stood aside to let her pass.

It was a moment later as he crossed over to the client's chair that Myra
caught sight of him from the sch