_must_ go!"

"Well, maybe, perhaps, to-morrow--"

"To-night--to-night," said Augusta, faintly.

And Cyrus surrendered.

"Look under the bed before you go," Gussie murmured.

Cyrus looked. "Nobody there," he said, reassuringly; and went on tiptoe
out of the darkened, cologne-scented room. But as he passed along the
hall, and saw his father in his little cabin of a room, smoking
placidly, and polishing his sextant with loving hands, Cyrus's heart
reproached him.

"How's her head, Cy?" the Captain called out.

"Oh, better, I guess," Cyrus said. ("I'll be hanged if I speak to Dr.
Lavendar!")

"That's good," said the Captain, beginning to hoist himself up out of
his chair. "Going out? Hold hard, and I'll go 'long. I want to call on
Mrs. North."

Cyrus stiffened. "Cold night, sir," he remonstrated.

"'Your granny was Murray, and wore a black nightcap!'" said the Captain;
"you are getting delicate in your old age, Cy." He got up, and plunged
into his coat, and tramped out, slamming the door heartily behind
him--for which, later, poor Cyrus got the credit. "Where you bound?"

"Oh--down-street," said Cyrus, vaguely.

"Sealed orders?" said the Captain, with never a bit of curiosity in his
big, kind voice; and Cyrus felt as small as he was. But when he left the
old man at Mrs. North's door, he was uneasy again. Maybe Gussie was
right! Women are keener about those things than men. And his uneasiness
actually carried him to Dr. Lavendar's study, where he tried to appear
at ease by patting Danny.

"What's the matter with you, Cyrus?" said Dr. Lavendar, looking at him
over his spectacles. (Dr. Lavendar, in his wicked old heart, always
wanted to call this young man Cipher; but, so far, grace had been given
him to withstand temptation.) "What's wrong?" he said.

And Cyrus, somehow, told his troubles.

At first Dr. Lavendar chuckled; then he frowned. "Gussie put you up to
this, Cy--_rus_?" he said.

"Well, my wife's a woman," Cyrus began, "and they're keener on such
matters than men; and she said, perhaps you would--would--"

"_What?_" Dr. Lavendar rapped on the table with the bowl of his pipe, so
loudly that Danny opened one eye. "Would what?"

"Well," Cyrus stammered, "you know, Dr. Lavendar, as Gussie says,
'there's no fo--'"

"You needn't finish it," Dr. Lavendar interrupted, dryly; "I've heard it
before. Gussie didn't say anything about a young fool, did she?" Then
he eyed Cyrus. "Or a middle-aged one? I've