trate his passionate loyalty. For a moment there was silence, except
for Mary's sobs. Then Johnny said, hoarsely, "Mr. Robertson, I'm--sorry.
But . . . there isn't anything to do about it. I--I guess I'll go home."

"John," said Doctor Lavendar, "your aunt Lydia would want you to be
kind."

Carl Robertson shook his head. "We don't want kindness, Doctor
Lavendar. I guess we don't want anything he can give. Good-by, boy," he
said.

His son, passing him, caught at his hand and wrung it. "Goo'-by," he
said, roughly. There were tears in his eyes.

Then, without a look at his mother, he walked quickly down the room, and
out into the hall. They could hear him putting on his hat and coat. . . .
Carl Robertson pressed his clenched hand against his lips, and turned
his back to the other two. Mary was silent. Doctor Lavendar covered his
eyes for a moment; then, just as Johnny's hand was on the knob of the
front door he called out:

"John, wait a minute, will you? Give me an arm; I'm going to walk home."

The young man, out in the hall, frowned, and set his jaw.

"All right," he called back, briefly. There was no detaining word or cry
from the library while Doctor Lavendar shuffled silently into his
coat,--and a minute later the door of the new Mr. Smith's house closed
upon his grandson and the old minister.

It had begun to rain again, and the driveway was very dark--darker even
than on that September night when Johnny's mother had cringed back from
Miss Lydia's little leading hand and they had hurried along under the
big trees. It was her son who hurried now. . . .

"Not so fast, Johnny," said Doctor Lavendar.

"Excuse me, sir." He fell into step with the old man, but he was tense
with the effort to walk slowly. . . . They were nearly at the gate
before there was any speech between them. Then Johnny said, violently:

"There's no use saying anything to me, Doctor Lavendar! Not a particle
of use!"

"I haven't said anything, John."

"They got you here to--to influence me! I saw through it the minute--she
began. But I never forgive," Johnny said; "I want you to understand
that!" He was hurrying again. The old man pressed a little on his arm.

"I'm sorry to be so slow, Johnny."

"Oh--excuse me, sir; I didn't realize. . . . She threw me away. I've
thrown her away. There's no use talking to me!"

Doctor Lavendar was silent.

"I tell you, I won't have anything to do with them--with her, I mean.
He's not so bad. I--I