nstant visitors and--and, you know--you
understand my doubts. I do not trust her. I may be wrong, but I suppose
I should wish to err on the right side. It is better that I should err
in trusting her than to be unjust in doubting her. The first question
is: Shall I marry Sukey if Rita will forgive me? The second, Shall I
marry her if Rita refuses to forgive me? Am I bound by honor and duty to
sacrifice my happiness for the sake of the girl whom I do not, but
perhaps should, trust?"

"I don't see that your happiness has anything to do with the case,"
returned Billy. "If that alone were to be considered, I should say marry
Sukey regardless of your doubts. You deserve the penalty; but Rita has
done no sin, and you have no right to punish her to pay your debts. You
are bound by every tie of honor to marry her, and you shall do so. The
dimpler is trying to take you from Rita, and if you are not careful your
fool conscience will help her to do it."

"If Rita will forgive me," said Dic.

"She'll forgive you sooner or later," answered Billy. "Her love and
forgiveness are benedictions she cannot withhold nor you escape."

I doubt if Billy Little would have been so eager in forwarding this
marriage had not Williams been frowning in the background. Billy, as you
know, had a heart of his own--a bachelor heart; but he hated Williams,
and was intensely jealous of him. So, taking the situation at its worst,
Dic was the lesser of two evils. But, as I have already told you many
times, he passionately loved Dic for his own sake, and his unselfish
regard for the priceless girl made the young man doubly valuable as a
means to her happiness. If Rita wanted a lover, she must have him. If
she wanted the moon, she ought to have it--should have it, if Billy
Little could get it for her. So felt Billy, whose advice brought joy to
Dic. It also brought to him the necessity of a painful interview with
Sukey. He dreaded the interview, and told Billy he thought he would
write to Sukey instead.

"You can pay at least a small part of the penalty you owe by seeing the
girl and bearing the pain of an interview," replied Billy. "But if you
are too cowardly to visit her, write. I suppose that's what I should do
if I were in your place. But I'd be a poor example for a manly man to
follow."

"I'll see her," replied Dic. "Poor Sukey! I pity her."

"It isn't safe to pity a girl like Sukey. Pity has a dangerous kinsman,"
observed Billy.

*