days' growth of beard, with
patchy grey and black spots, gave a stucco effect to his countenance.
His moustache drooped over a partly open mouth; the top of his large
head was bald, and the hair that hung about his ears was much darker
than his moustache. Seeing the strangers, he hesitated in his lurch
toward the water pail, steadied himself on wide-spread feet, very flat
on the floor, and waved his right hand slowly in the air. Whether this
was to be understood as a form of salutation or a gesture of defiance
was a matter of interpretation.

"Vishitors," said the old man, at length. "Alwaysh welcome, m'sure.
'Sh scush me." He made his uncertain way to the water bench, took a
great drink, and set about washing his face and hands, while the
breakfast proceeded in silence. As his preparations neared completion
Irene set a place at the table.

"Won't you sit down here, Mr. Elden?" she said. There had been no
introductions. Dave ate on in silence.

"Thank you," said the old man, and there was something in his voice
which may have been emotion, or may have been the huskiness of the
heavy drinker's throat. The girl gave it the former explanation.
Perhaps it was his unintended tribute to that touch of womanly
attentiveness to which his old heart still beat response. As he took
the proffered chair she saw in this old man shreds of dignity which the
less refined eye of his son had not distinguished. To Dave, his father
was an affliction to be borne; an unfair load on a boy who had done
nothing to deserve this punishment. The miseries associated with his
parentage had gone far to make him sour and moody. Irene at first had
thought him rude and gloomy; flashes of humor had modified that
opinion, but she had not yet learned that his disposition was naturally
a buoyant one, weighed down by an environment which had made it soggy
and unresponsive. In years to come she was to know what unguessed
depths of character were to be revealed when that stoic nature was
cross-sectioned by the blade of a keen and defiant passion. This
morning she foresaw nothing of those future revelations, but in the old
man her instinct detected qualities which perhaps were awaiting only
some touch of sympathetic understanding to flash forth even yet like
that burst of sunset radiance which sometimes marks the close of a
leaden day.

Mr. Elden promptly engaged the doctor in conversation, and in a few
moments had gleaned the main facts in con