other's got all he wants, I
reckon, an' I doan't begrudge him a twinge; but I hope theer ban't no
more wheer that comed from, for his awn sake, 'cause if us met
unfriendly again, t' other might go awver the bridge, an' break worse 'n
his arm."

"No, no, Blanchard, don't talk and think like that. Let the past go. My
brother will return a wiser man, I pray, with his great disappointment
dulled."

"A gert disappointment! To be catched out stealin', an' shawed up for a
thief!"

"Well, forgive and forget. It's a valuable art--to learn to forget."

"You wait till you 'm faaced wi' such trouble, an' try to forget! But we
'm friends, by your awn shawm', and I be glad 't is so. Ax mother to
step in from front the house, will 'e? I'd wish her to know how we 'm
standin'."

Mrs. Blanchard appeared with her daughter, and subsequent conversation
banished a haunting sense of disloyalty to his brother from Martin's
mind. Chris never looked more splendid or more sweet than in that noon,
new come from a walk with Clement Hicks. Martin listened to her voice,
stayed as long as he dared, and then departed with many emotions
breaking like a storm upon his lonely life. He began to long for her
with overwhelming desire. He had scarcely looked at a woman till now,
and this brown-eyed girl of twenty, so full of life, so beautiful, set
his very soul helplessly adrift on the sea of love. Her sudden laugh,
like Will's, but softer and more musical, echoed in the man's ear as he
returned to his house and, in a ferment, tramped the empty rooms.

His own requirements had been amply met by three apartments, furnished
with sobriety and great poverty of invention; but now he pictured Chris
singing here, tripping about with her bright eyes and active fingers.
Like his brother before him, he fell back upon his money, and in
imagination spent many pounds for one woman's delight. Then from this
dream he tumbled back into reality and the recollection that his goddess
must be wooed and won. No man ever yet failed to make love from
ignorance how to begin, but the extent and difficulties of his
undertaking weighed very heavily on Martin Grimbal at this juncture. To
win even a measure of her friendship appeared a task almost hopeless.
Nevertheless, through sleepless nights, he nerved himself to the
tremendous attempt. There was not so much of self-consciousness in him,
but a great store of self-distrust. Martin rated himself and his powers
of pleasing very