r an interest in him. She detested a quarrel, but she liked a man who
would fight. Her father had been a captain in the navy, and he had
taught her to believe that a courageous knave was more to be admired
than an honest man without nerve. Of course this was an extreme view,
the exaggerated policy of a fighting man, and though she did not accept
it in full, yet it had strongly impressed her. She did not see how a man
could be an American and not be brave. And frankness was a part of
bravery. At least it ought to be. Milford was brave, but not frank
enough, with her. On the way home she returned to the subject. There was
a charm in the confidence of a brave man. It was strange that he had not
told Gunhild more about himself. He surely loved her. She was capable
of inspiring the deepest love. Of course she had seen him in the West,
but had merely seen him, and his life was still a sealed book to her.
Oh, no, she had not complained. That was not her nature.

"She'll know enough one of these days," said Milford. "Perhaps too
much," he added.

"Well, I suppose we must wait," she replied. "And I hope you'll not
think my curiosity idle. All interest is curiosity, more or less, but
all interest is not idle. So you don't know how long you'll remain
here?"

"I haven't staked off the time."

She sighed. She said that the summer had been a disappointment. She had
not been happy since Gunhild left her. Her going away must have been a
wild notion, caught from Milford. There was no necessity for teaching,
till at least she had studied longer herself. She had not been
disappointed in her development, not wholly. Her outcome as a woman had
more than offset her failure as an artist. And she found that it was the
woman whom she had liked, rather than the artist. With her new care it
was different. She was all musician, a genius with whims and caprices, a
moody companion, not capable of inspiring friendship. She had taken her
as a duty, a duty which she felt that she owed to the musical world.

"I am going home to-morrow," she said, when Milford helped her down at
Mrs. Stuvic's gate. "I don't like these new people. They are coarse."

"To-morrow I have business across the country," said Milford. "I may not
see you again."

"I am sorry. Will you do me a favor? When you write to Gunhild tell her
that she must come back to me. I need her."

"I will tell her that you have said so."

"That won't be much of a favor, but tell her. And I