en if it took all his
time and every cent he could borrow. He knew he had to try to find that
girl! The thought that the only shelter between her and the great awful
world lay in the word of an untaught girl like Jane Carson filled him
with terror for her. If that was true, the sooner some one of
responsibility and sense got to her the better. The questions he had
asked of various people that afternoon had revealed more than he had
already guessed of the character of the bridegroom to whom he had taken
such a strong dislike on first sight.

Thus he argued the long night through between the fitful naps he caught
when he was not wondering if he should find her, and whether he would
know her from that one brief sight of her in church. How did he know but
this was some game put up on him to get him into a mix-up? He must go
cautiously, and on no account do anything rash or make any promises
until he had first found out all about her.

When morning dawned he was in a state of perturbation quite unusual for
the son and grandson of renowned lawyers noted for their calmness and
poise under all circumstances. This perhaps was why the little incident
with Abijah Gage at the station annoyed him so extremely. He felt he was
doing a questionable thing in taking this journey at all. He certainly
did not intend to reveal his identity or business to this curious old
man.

The little gray house looked exactly as Jane had described it, and as he
opened the gate and heard the rusty chain that held it clank he had a
sense of having been there before.

He was pleasantly surprised, however, when the door was opened by Emily,
who smiled at him out of shy blue eyes, and stood waiting to see what he
wanted. It was like expecting a viper and finding a flower. Somehow he
had not anticipated anything flower-like in Jane's family. The mother,
too, was a surprise when she came from her ironing, and, pushing her
wavy gray hair back from a furrowed brow lifted intelligent eyes that
reminded him of Jane, to search his face. Ma did not appear flustered.
She seemed to be taking account of him and deciding whether or not she
would be cordial to him.

"Yes, I had a telegram from Jane this morning," she was scanning his
eyes once more to see whether there was a shadow of what she called
"shiftiness" in them. "Come in," she added grudgingly.

He was not led into the dining-room, but seated on one of the best
varnished chairs in the "parlor," as they c