t you and her life here, and it
is certain she has--"

"Oh, that does not make any difference," interrupted the captain. "I am
talking about things as they are now. It was all very well as long as
things seemed to be going right, but I believe in people who stand by
you when things seem to be going wrong, and who keep on standing by you
until they know how they are going, and that is exactly what she did not
do. Now, there was Dick Lancaster; he came to me and asked me squarely
about that affair. To be sure, I cut him off short, for it angered me to
think that he, or anybody else, should have such an idea of me, and,
besides, it was none of his business. But it should have been her
business; she ought to have made it her business; and, even if the thing
had stood differently, I would have told her exactly how it did stand;
and then she could have said to me what she thought about it, and what
she was going to do. But instead of that, she just made up her mind
about me, and away went everything. Yes, sir, everything. I can't tell
you the plans I had made for her and for myself, and, I may say, for
Dick Lancaster. If it suited her, I wanted her to marry him, and if it
suited her I wanted to go and live with them in his college town, or
any other place they might want to go. Again and again, after I knew
Dick, have I gone over this thing and planned it out this way, and that
way, but always with us three in the middle of everything. Do you see
that?" continued the captain after a slight pause, as he drew from his
pocket a dainty little pearl paper-cutter. "That belongs to her. She
used to sit out here, and cut the leaves of books as she read them. I
can see her little hand now as it went sliding along the edges of the
pages. When she went away she left it on the bench, and I took it. And
I've kept it in my pocket to take out when I sit here, and cut books
with it when I have 'em. I haven't many books that ain't cut, but I've
sat here and cut 'em till there wasn't any left. And then I cut a lot of
old volumes of Coast Survey Reports. It is a foolish thing for an old
man to do, but then--but then--well, you see, I did it."

There was a choke in the captain's voice as he leaned over to put the
paper-cutter in his pocket and to pick up his pipe, which he had laid on
the bench beside him. Mr. Easterfield was touched and surprised. He
would not have supposed the captain to be a man of such tender
sentiment. And he took him at o