tter in which she justified his course
at the cost of her own father's honor. He longed to tell her that he
understood and appreciated.

At last he could not resist the temptation.

"Miss Warren," he said, "please excuse my speaking of this, but I must;
I must thank you for writing me as you did. It was not necessary, it
was too much to expect, too hard a thing for you to do. It makes me feel
guilty. I--"

"Please don't!" she interrupted. "Don't speak in that way. It was right.
It was what I should have done long ago."

"But it was not necessary; I understood. I knew you had heard another
version of the story and that you felt I had been ungrateful and mean,
to say the least, in my conduct toward your father. I knew that; I have
never blamed you. And you writing as you did--"

"I did it for my uncle's sake," she broke in, quickly. "You are his
closest friend."

"I know, but I appreciate it, nevertheless. I--I wish you would consider
me your friend as well as his. I do, sincerely."

"Thank you. I need friends, I know. I have few now, which is not
strange," rather bitterly.

He protested earnestly. "I did not mean it in that way," he said. "It
is an honor and a great privilege to be one of your friends. I had that
honor and privilege once. May I have it again?"

"Thank you, Mr. Pearson.... Now tell me about your novel. I remember
it all so well. And I am very much interested. You must have it nearly
completed. Tell me about it, please."

They were deep in the discussion of the novel when Captain Elisha walked
into the living room. He was surprised, stating his feelings at their
mildest, to find them together, but he did not express his astonishment.
Instead, he hailed Pearson delightedly, demanded to know if they had
dared tackle Cap'n Jim without the "head doctor's" being on the scene;
and insisted upon the author's admitting him to the "clinic" forthwith.
Pearson did not take the next train, nor the next. Instead, he stayed
for dinner and well into the evening, and when he did go it was after a
prompt acceptance of the captain's invitation to "come again in a mighty
little while."

Caroline, when she and her uncle were alone after their visitor's
departure, made no protest against the invitation having been given.
She did not speak of Pearson at all. Captain Elisha also talked of other
things, principally about the sail-boat, the summer lease of which he
had arranged that afternoon. He declared the sloop t