wish more people knew about the Patriarch--it
makes your heart ache to think of the suffering and sickness that people
endure so hopelessly when there isn't any need of it."

"Yes, so it do," said Mr. Higgins. He picked up the reins. "So it do,"
he said heartily.

Madison watched the democrat as it started off behind the ambling
horse--watched with a sort of fascination at the inebriate, sideways
stagger of the wheels, a sort of wonder that the rear ones didn't shut
up like a jack-knife under the body of the vehicle and the democrat
promptly sit down on its tail-board; then, smiling, he walked back into
the cottage. The Patriarch was still sitting in the armchair beside the
table. Madison halted before the other.

"Well," said he confidentially to the Patriarch, "that's settled and I
don't mind admitting that it's a load off my mind. I hate to think of
what we'd have done without Hiram Higgins--in fact, it distresses me to
think of it. Let us think of something else. Day after to-morrow
Helena'll be along. Helena is the one and only--but you'll find that out
for yourself. I don't mind telling you though that she wears a number
two shoe, and you can guess the rest without any help from me. Then a
day or so later the Flopper and Pale Face Harry'll be along--you'll
enjoy them--things aren't going to be a bit slow from now on. I expect
the Flopper will bring some friends with him, too, so's to make a nice
little house-party--I wrote him about it, and--" Madison stopped
abruptly.

The Patriarch, evidently catching a movement of Madison's lips, was
gesticulating violently toward his ears, while he smiled half
tolerantly, half protestingly.

Madison nodded quickly and smiled deprecatingly in return.

"By Jove!" he said apologetically. "I always keep forgetting that you
can't hear. I was suggesting that perhaps you might like to go for a
walk--Mr. Higgins says it's a fine day." Madison picked up the slate and
in huge letters that sprawled from one end of the slate to the other
wrote the word: "WALK?"

The Patriarch rose from his chair with a pleased expression, and Madison
helped him solicitously to the door.

They passed out into the sunshine and headed for the beach--the
Patriarch, erect and strong, guiding himself with his hand on Madison's
arm.

Reaching the beach, the Patriarch paused and turned his face toward the
ocean, while he drew in great breaths of the invigorating air--and
Madison involuntarily stepped