ould pursue a similar course?"

He ignored her argument.

"I'll help you get dinner, old blue-eyes," he suggested. "Let me shuck
some corn or shell some peas or string some beans--any job where I can
sit and look at you and talk to you."

"It will please me if you'll visit a little while with father Caleb,"
she suggested. "He's out on the sun-porch. He's far from well this
morning. Do cheer him up, Donald dear."

Old Caleb hailed him with a pleasure that was almost childish. During
the two weeks that had elapsed since Donald had seen him last, he had
failed markedly.

"Well, how does the old sailor feel this morning?" Donald queried
casually, seating himself opposite the old man.

"Poorly, Mr. Donald; poorly." He turned, satisfied himself that Nan
was busy in the kitchen, and then leaned toward his visitor. "I've got
my sailing-orders," he whispered confidentially. The man who had won a
Congressional medal of honor, without clearly knowing why or how, had
not changed with the years. He advanced this statement as a simple
exposition of fact.

"Think so, Caleb?" Donald answered soberly.

"I know it."

"If you have no desire to live, Caleb, of course nature will yield to
your desires. Remember that and buck up. You may have your
sailing-orders, but you can keep the bar breaking indefinitely to
prevent you from crossing out."

"I've done that for a year past. I do not wish to die and leave her,
for my three-quarter pay stops then. But I suffer from angina
pectoris. It's the worry, Mr. Donald," he added.

"Worry as to the future of Nan and the child?"

"Aye, lad."

"Well, Caleb, your worries are unnecessary. I feel it my duty to tell
you that I love Nan; she loves me, and we have told each other so. She
shall not suffer when you are gone. She has indicated to me that, some
day, this--this mess may be cleared up; and when that happens, I shall
marry Nan."

"So Nan told me this morning. I was wondering if you'd speak to me
about it, and I'm glad you have done so--promptly. You--you--honor us,
Mr. Donald; you do, indeed. You're the one man in the world I can
trust her with, whether as good friend or husband--only, her hushand
you'll never be."

"I see breakers ahead," Donald admitted. He had no desire to dissemble
with this straightforward old father.

"We're poor folk and plain, but--please God!--we're decent and we know
our place, Mr. Donald. If your big heart tells you to dishonor
yourself in the eyes