tell her," said Jeff. "That's what I am going up there
for."

Westover rose, but Jeff remained sitting where he had put himself
astride of a chair, with his face over the back. The painter walked
slowly up and down before him in the capricious play of the street
light. He turned a little sick, and he stopped a moment at the window
for a breath of air.

"Well?" asked Jeff.

"Oh! You want my advice?" Westover still felt physically incapable of
the indignation which he strongly imagined. "I don't know what to say
to you, Durgin. You transcend my powers. Are you able to see this whole
thing yourself?"

"I guess so," Jeff answered. "I don't idealize it, though. I look at
facts; they're bad enough. You don't suppose that Miss Lynde is going to
break her heart over--"

"I don't believe I care for Miss Lynde any more than I care for you. But
I believe I wish you were not going to break with her."

"Why?"

"Because you and she are fit for each other. If you want my advice, I
advise you to be true to her--if you can."

"And Cynthia?"

"Break with her."

"Oh!" Jeff gave a snort of derision.

"You're not fit for her. You couldn't do a crueler thing for her than to
keep faith with her."

"Do you mean it?"

"Yes, I mean it. Stick to Miss Lynde--if she'll let you."

Jeff seemed puzzled by Westover's attitude, which was either too sincere
or too ironical for him. He pushed his hat, which he had kept on, back
from his forehead. "Damned if I don't believe she would," he mused
aloud. The notion seemed to flatter him and repay him for what he must
have been suffering. He smiled, but he said: "She wouldn't do, even if
she were any good. Cynthia is worth a million of her. If she wants to
give me up after she knows all about me, well and good. I shu'n't blame
her. But I shall give her a fair chance, and I shu'n't whitewash myself;
you needn't be afraid of that, Mr. Westover."

"Why should I care what you do?" asked the painter, scornfully.

"Well, you can't, on my account," Durgin allowed. "But you do care on
her account."

"Yes, I do," said Westover, sitting down again, and he did not say
anything more.

Durgin waited a long while for him to speak before he asked: "Then
that's really your advice, is it?"

"Yes, break with her."

"And stick to Miss Lynde."

"If she'll let you."

Jeff was silent in his turn. He started from his silence with a laugh.
"She'd make a daisy landlady for Lion's Head. I believe she wo