to marry him.
That episode in his life was ended. He felt the nobility of her attitude
without wholly accepting its conclusions. He had tried to persuade her
that the geography of the matter had nothing to do with it; that having
promised to marry him when they believed Lois to be safely out of the
way, her return did not affect their status in the least. This was the
flimsiest casuistry, as he well knew. It made a tremendous difference
where Lois was!

"I have to go away to-morrow, Phil, and I'm likely to be in Indianapolis
much of the time until spring. I can't take you with me very well; a
hotel is no place for you, and I shall be very busy. And I can't leave
you here alone, you know."

His tone was kind; he always meant to be kind, this dear father of hers!
He hurried on with an even greater thoughtfulness to anticipate a
solution of this problem which had occurred to her instantly, but which
she lacked the courage to suggest.

"I saw your Uncle Amzi to-day and had a long talk with him about you. I
proposed that you go to his house and stay, at least until I get through
my work with the Sycamore Company. We won't make any definite date for
your return, for the reason that I don't just know when I'll be free to
settle down here again. Amzi was perfectly agreeable to the idea--quite
splendid about it, in fact. Your mother, it seems, means to stay with
him. And now there's this further thing, Phil. You won't mind my going
into it a little bit, once and for all. The law gave you to me long
ago, but apart from that I suppose I have a certain moral claim to you.
But I want you to feel free to do as you like where your mother's
concerned. What I said of her yesterday I'm sorry for; I shouldn't have
done that if I'd been myself. And I'm not making it necessary for you to
make a choice between us. We're old comrades, you and I, Phil, and there
can't be any shadow of a difference between us, now or ever. It's the
simplest and easiest thing for you to go to your uncle's house, and we
won't even consider the fact that your mother is there; we'll just
assume that her being there is the most natural thing in the world, and
that it's a matter of our common convenience for you to be there, too.
You see how perfectly easy and natural it all comes about."

She clung to him, the tears welling. She had never been disappointed in
him, and this generosity moved her deeply. He was making it easy for her
to go to her mother; that was a