s he for her--the man
who, the night before, had so comported himself with me. Of course, it
appears absurd that I could reach such a conclusion upon so little
basis, but to tell when people are interested in each other is not
difficult sometimes, even for so dull a man as I.

"You have known Mr. Harlson many years, I believe," she said, and added
smilingly: "What kind of a man is he?"

"A very bad man," I replied, gravely.

She turned to him in a charming, judicial way:

"If your friends so describe you, Mr. Harlson, what must your enemies
say? And what have you to say in your own defense? What you yourself
have owned to me in the past is recognition of the soundness of the
authority."

"I haven't a word to say. Of course, I had not expected this
unfriendly villain to be what he has proved himself, but what he says
is, no doubt, true. I'm going to reform, though. In fact, I've
already begun."

"When was the revolution inaugurated?"

He looked at her so earnestly that there came a faint flush to her
cheek. "Since my eyes were opened, and I saw the light," he answered.

She diverted the conversation by turning to me, and saying that, while
the information I had given her was no doubt valuable, and that she
should regulate her course accordingly, and advise all her friends to
do the same, yet she felt it her duty to reprimand me for telling the
truth so bluntly. She knew that I had done it for the best, but if
there were really any hope for this wicked man, if he had really
decided upon a new life, we ought to encourage him. Did I think him in
earnest?

I told her that it hurt me to say it, but that I had no great
confidence in Mr. Harlson's protestations. He was of the earth,
earthy. A friend, it was true, should bear a friend's infirmities, but
he should not ask other people to bear them, nor should he testify to
anything but the truth. Mr. Harlson might or might not be in earnest
in what he had declared, but, even if in earnest, there was the matter
of persistency. I doubted seriously his ability to overcome the habits
of a lifetime.

She was becoming really interested in the chaffing.

"What is the nature of Mr. Harlson's great iniquity?"

"There, Miss Cornish, I am justified in drawing the line in my reply.
I have conscientiously explained that he was, in a general way, a
villain of the deepest dye, but to make specifications would be
unfriendly, and I know you wouldn't have me that."