ptain Zelotes Snow did
not hear it.

And although the balance of sweet and sour in Albert's mind that
night was almost even, the sour predominated next day and continued to
predominate. Issachar Price had sowed the seed of jealousy in the mind
of the assistant bookkeeper of Z. Snow and Company, and that seed took
root and grew as it is only too likely to do under such circumstances.
That evening Albert walked again to the post-office. Helen was not
there, neither was Miss Kelsey or Miss Fosdick. He waited for a time and
then determined to call at the Kendall home, something he had not done
for some time. As he came up to the front walk, between the arbor-vitae
hedges, he saw that the parlor windows were alight. The window shade was
but partially drawn and beneath it he could see into the room. Helen was
seated at the piano and Edwin Raymond was standing beside her, ready to
turn the page of her music.

Albert whirled on his heel and walked out of the yard and down the
street toward his own home. His attitude of mind was a curious one.
He had a mind to wait until Raymond left and then go into the Kendall
parlor and demand of Helen to know what she meant by letting that fellow
make such a fool of himself. What right had he--Raymond--to call upon
her, and turn her music and--and set the whole town talking? Why--Oh,
he could think of many things to ask and say. The trouble was that the
saying of them would, he felt sure, be distinctly bad diplomacy on his
part. No one--not even he--could talk to Helen Kendall in that fashion;
not unless he wished it to be their final conversation.

So he went home, to fret and toss angrily and miserably half the night.
He had never before considered himself in the slightest degree in love
with Helen, but he had taken for granted the thought that she liked him
better than anyone else. Now he was beginning to fear that perhaps
she did not, and, with his temperament, wounded vanity and poetic
imagination supplied the rest. Within a fortnight he considered himself
desperately in love with her.

During this fortnight he called at the parsonage, the Kendall home,
several times. On the first of these occasions the Reverend Mr. Kendall,
having just completed a sermon dealing with the war and, being full of
his subject, read the said sermon to his daughter and to Albert. The
reading itself lasted for three-quarters of an hour and Mr. Kendall's
post-argument and general dissertation on German per