istory and made
him feel that he was not quite alone--that there was some one to whom
his careless whims made a difference! But you were a little scornful
and indifferent. I wonder if you'll believe that he can tell you each
separate moment in his life when you were kind to him."

"I too was alone and lonely!" defended the girl. "And the call of the
forest had made me most unhappy."

"Yes. But Carl was not mocking any sensitive spot in your life--"

"No--I was cruel--cruel!"

"I remember in college," said Philip, "he talked so much of his
beautiful cousin, and the rest of us were wild to see her. We used to
rag him a lot, but you held aloof and we told him we didn't believe he
had a cousin. We discovered after a while that he was sensitive
because you didn't come when he asked you, and we quit ragging him
about it. You didn't even come when he took his degree."

"No. I--Oh, Philip! I am sorry."

"Your aunt," went on Philip, "was not mentally adapted to inspire his
respect. He merely laughed and petted her into tearful subjection.
You were the only one, Diane, who was his equal in body and brain, and
you failed him at a period when your influence would have been
tremendous. I can't forget," added Philip soberly, "that much of this
I knew in college and carelessly enough I ignored it all later. I let
him drift when I might have done much to help him."

Philip's instinct was right and kindly.

He had provided a counter wound to dwarf, at saving intervals, the
sting of Aunt Agatha's frightened revelation. Thereafter, the memory
of Philip's loyal rebuke was to trouble her sorely, temper a little the
old intolerance and arouse her keen remorse. The consciousness that
Philip disapproved was quite enough.

With a sudden gesture of solicitude, Diane touched the sleeve of his
shirt. It was very wet.

"Philip!" she exclaimed, springing to her feet. "We must go back."

"Lord," said Philip lazily, "that's nothing at all. I'm a
hydro-aviator."

She glanced wistfully up into his face.

"You're right about Carl," she said. "I'm very sorry."

Philip felt suddenly that it behooved him to remember a certain
resolution.

Later, as he hurried through the rainy wood to his own camp, where the
Baron sat huddled in the Indian wagon in a state of deep disgust about
the rain, he halted where the trees were thick and lighted his pipe.

"There's the Baron's aeroplane at St. Augustine," he said. "We can go
th