lised the extent to
which Majendie had "got him out of it," his conscience was roused by a
salutary shock of shame.

But it was to Edith that he presented the perfection of his penitence.
From his stillness and abasement she gathered that, this time, her
prodigal had fallen far. That night, before his departure, he confirmed
her sad suspicions.

"It's awfully good of you," he said stiffly, "to let me come again."

"Good of me? Charlie!" Her eyes and voice reproached him for this
strained formality.

"Yes. Mrs. Majendie's perfectly right. I've justified her bad opinion of
me."

"I don't know that you've justified it. I don't know what you've done. No
more does she, my dear. And you didn't think, did you, that Walter and I
were going to give you up?"

"I'd have forgiven you if you had."

"I couldn't have forgiven myself, or Walter."

"Oh, Walter--if it hadn't been for him I should have gone to pieces this
time. He's pulled me out of the tightest place I ever was in."

"I'm sure he was very glad to do it."

"I wish to goodness I could do the same for him."

"Why do you say that, Charlie?"

The prodigal became visibly embarrassed. He seemed to be considering the
propriety of a perfect frankness.

"I say, you don't mind my asking, do you? Has anything gone wrong with
him and Mrs. Majendie?"

"What makes you think so?"

"Well, you see, I've got a sort of notion that she doesn't understand
him. She's never realised in the least the stuff he's made of. He's the
finest man I know on God's earth, and somehow, it strikes me that she
doesn't see it."

"Not always, I'm afraid."

"Well--see here--you'll tell her, won't you, what he's done for me?
That ought to open her eyes a bit. You can give me away as much as
ever you like, if you want to rub it in. Only tell her that I've chucked
it--chucked it for good. He's made me loathe myself. Tell her that I'm
not as bad as she thinks me, but that I probably would be if it hadn't
been for him. And you, Edie, only I'm going to leave you out of it."

"You certainly may."

"It's because she knows all that already; and the point is to get her to
appreciate him."

Edith smiled. "I see. And I'm to make what I like of you, if I can only
get her to appreciate him?"

"Yes. Tell her that, as far as I'm concerned, I respect her attitude
profoundly."

"Very well. I'll tell her just what you've told me."

She spoke of it the next day, when Anne came to read to her in the