a
somewhat forbidding expression, and there was something in it, apart
from line or feature, which did not please Alan. He had no time to
analyze this impression, for Lynde said hurriedly, "Father, this is
Mr. Douglas. He has just done me a great service."

She briefly explained her accident; when she had finished, the Captain
turned to Alan and held out his hand, a frank smile replacing the
rather suspicious and contemptuous scowl which had previously
overshadowed it.

"I am much obliged to you, Mr. Douglas," he said cordially. "You must
come up to the house and let me thank you at leisure. As a rule I'm
not very partial to the cloth, as you may have heard. In this case it
is the man, not the minister, I invite."

The front door of Four Winds opened directly into a wide,
low-ceilinged living room, furnished with simplicity and good taste.
Leaving the two men there, Lynde and the old cousin vanished, and Alan
found himself talking freely with the Captain who could, as it
appeared, talk well on many subjects far removed from Four Winds. He
was evidently a clever, self-educated man, somewhat opinionated and
given to sarcasm; he never made any references to his own past life or
experiences, but Alan discovered him to be surprisingly well read in
politics and science. Sometimes in the pauses of the conversation Alan
found the older man looking at him in a furtive way he did not like,
but the Captain was such an improvement on what he had been led to
expect that he was not inclined to be over critical. At least, this
was what he honestly thought. He did not suspect that it was because
this man was Lynde's father that he wished to think as well as
possible of him.

Presently Lynde came in. She had changed her outdoor dress, stained
with moss and soil in her fall, for a soft clinging garment of some
pale yellow material, and her long, thick braid of hair hung over her
shoulder. She sat mutely down in a dim corner and took no part in the
conversation except to answer briefly the remarks which Alan addressed
to her. Emily came in and lighted the lamp on the table. She was as
grim and unsmiling as ever, yet she cast a look of satisfaction on
Alan as she passed out. One dog lay down at Lynde's feet, the other
sat on his haunches by her side and laid his head on her lap. Rexton
and its quiet round of parish duties seemed thousands of miles away
from Alan, and he wondered a little if this were not all a dream.

When he went a