"It is not only bees that are destroyed by hating," he said, "it is
every good thing in life that dries up and blows away under the force
of dislike and bitterness. Look at Anthony, who vows he has no
affection for any one, who does not believe in friends or kindliness.
He has hurt others, he has brought no happiness to himself, and,
unless I am mistaken, he is going to wreck his whole scheme in one
tremendous crash that we cannot now foresee. A lawyer, like myself,
sees many hard, miserable, sordid things, but a Beeman has leisure to
speculate as to whither they tend. And they all tend to the same
thing."

They sat for some time about the table, explaining, discussing, and
questioning, until finally the muffled booming of the clock in the
hall proclaimed the hour of ten. Polly's eyes were beginning to look
heavy, a fact that did not escape her father's watchful observation.

"These girls have had a long day and it is time for them to be in
bed," he announced. "We have been over this whole matter and made
things clear, and we have only to decide, since we are to fight
Anthony in court, just what stand we will make. We will talk that
over, Jasper, while Oliver takes your car and drives Polly home."

"I'll go with them," said Janet, jumping up also. She had been
listening, bright-eyed and alert, through all of the story and showed
no signs of sleepiness. Oliver tore himself away with some regret, for
he did not wish to miss a word of the plans the two men were making.
But Polly was evidently weary and ready to go home.

"Come along, Cousin Eleanor," he said briskly, and the three went,
laughing, out through the door and down the steps.

It was very dark when Oliver brought out the big car and, skirting the
fallen tree, made his way carefully down the drive. A bank of clouds
to the eastward was all that was left of the storm, however, and
through this the moon was breaking, with promise to rise clear, and
come out into an empty sky. Oliver slowed down the car as they came to
the gate and stopped for a moment to consider. The wind had dropped so
completely that they could hear every sound of the summer night, even
the dull, far-off roar of the flooded river.

"Do you know," he began slowly, "we never remembered to tell them that
John Massey has left his place. I don't think any one but ourselves
knows that he went away immediately; they will be thinking that he is
still there, watching the dike. And to-night--listen h