uppressed elation at his good luck made him
tingle from top to toe; and, to tell the truth, he did not feel much
interest in Vibbard's remaining.

"I must be off to-morrow," said his friend. "I suppose I can stay here
to-night?"

"Of course."

"I must call on Ida, before I go."

Silverthorn's brow darkened.

"Ah, Thorny," continued Vibbard, unconsciously, "it's queer to look
back to that time when we were trying to persuade each other to make
love to her! Do you know that since I've been away, she's never once
gone out of my mind?"

"Is that so?" returned his comrade, with a strained and cloudy effort
to appear lightly interested.

"Yes," said the other, warming to his theme. "It may seem strange in a
rough business man like me,--and I guess it would have played the Old
Harry with anybody whose head wasn't perfectly level,--but that
strong, pure, sweet face of hers has come between me and many a sharp
fellow I've had to deal with. But it never distracted my thoughts; it
helped me. The memory of her was with me night and day, Thorny, and it
made me a hard, successful worker, and kept me a pure-hearted, happy
man. You'll see that I don't need much persuasion to speak to her
now!"

While Vibbard was talking, Silverthorn had risen, as if interested,
and now stood with his arm stretched on the cheap, painted wooden
mantelpiece above the empty grate of his meagre room. Vibbard noticed
that he looked pale; and it suddenly struck him that his friend might
have suffered from poverty, and that his health was perhaps weakening.
A gush of the old-time love suddenly came up from his heart, though he
said nothing.

"You know I always told you," Silverthorn began,--he paused and waited
an instant,--"I always told you she was the woman for you."

"Indeed I know it, old boy," said Vibbard, heartily.

He rose, came to his old college-mate and took hold of his disengaged
arm with both hands, affectionately.

"Look here," he added; "there's been something queer and dismal about
seeing each other, after such a long interval,--something awkward
about this settlement between us. If I've done anything to hurt your
feelings, Thorny, I'm sorry. Let's make an end of the trouble here and
now, and be to each other just as we used to be. What do you say?"

"I say you're a good, true-hearted fellow, as you always were, and I
want you to promise that we shall keep up our old feeling forever."

"There's no need of any promise but thi