r questions and you have
answered mine. Do you think we are any nearer an agreement now?"

Captain Zelotes seemed to awake with a start. "Eh?" he queried.
"Agreement? Oh, I don't know. Did you find any--er--what you might call
vital objections in the boy's record?"

"No-o. No, all that is all right. His family and his education and all
the rest are good enough, I'm sure. But, nevertheless--"

"You still object to the young folks gettin' married."

"Yes, I do. Hang it all, Snow, this isn't a thing one can reason out,
exactly. Madeline is our only child; she is our pet, our baby. Naturally
her mother and I have planned for her, hoped for her, figured that some
day, when we had to give her up, it would be to--to--"

"To somebody that wasn't Albert Speranza of South Harniss, Mass. . . .
Eh?"

"Yes. Not that your grandson isn't all right. I have no doubt he is a
tip-top young fellow. But, you see--"

Captain Lote suddenly leaned forward. "Course I see, Mr. Fosdick," he
interrupted. "Course I see. You object, and the objection ain't a mite
weaker on account of your not bein' able to say exactly what 'tis."

"That's the idea. Thank you, Captain."

"You're welcome. I can understand. I know just how you feel, because
I've been feelin' the same way myself."

"Oh, you have? Good! Then you can sympathize with Mrs. Fosdick and with
me. You see--you understand why we had rather our daughter did not marry
your grandson."

"Sartin. You see, I've had just the same sort of general kind of
objection to Al's marryin' your daughter."

Mr. Fletcher Fosdick leaned slowly backward in his chair. His appearance
was suggestive of one who has received an unexpected thump between the
eyes.

"Oh, you have!" he said again, but not with the same expression.

"Um-hm," said Captain Zelotes gravely. "I'm like you in one way; I've
never met your Madeline any more than you have met Al. I've seen her
once or twice, and she is real pretty and nice-lookin'. But I don't know
her at all. Now I don't doubt for a minute but that she's a real nice
girl and it might be that she'd make Al a fairly good wife."

"Er--well,--thanks."

"Oh, that's all right, I mean it. It might be she would. And I ain't got
a thing against you or your folks."

"Humph,--er--thanks again."

"That's all right; you don't need to thank me. But it's this way with
me--I live in South Harniss all the year round. I want to live here till
I die, and--after I die I'd like fi