believe you wish to be useful to them?"

"Why?"

"Yes. Your father is the president of the company Mr. Northwick had his
little embarrassment with, and the natural presumption would be that you
could not really be friendly toward his family."

"But we _are_ friendly! All of us! My father would do them any service
in his power, consistent with his duty to--to--his business associates."

"Ah, that's just the point. And you would all do anything you could for
them, consistent with your duty to him. That's perfectly
right--perfectly natural. But you must see that it doesn't form a ground
of common interest for us. I talked with you about the Miss Northwicks'
affairs the other day--too much, I think. But I can't to-day. I shall be
glad to converse with you on any other topic--discuss the ways of God to
man, or any little interest of that kind. But unless I can see my way
clearer to confidence between us in regard to my clients' affairs than I
do at present, I must avoid them."

It was absurd; but in his high good-will toward Adeline, and in his
latent tenderness for Suzette, Matt was hurt by the lawyer's distrust,
somewhat as you are hurt when the cashier of a strange bank turns over
your check and says you must bring some one to recognize you. It cost
Matt a pang; it took him a moment to own that Putney was right. Then he
said, "Of course, I must offer you proof somehow that I've come to you
in good faith. I don't know exactly how I shall be able to do it. Would
the assurance of my friend, Mr. Wade, the rector of St. Michael's--"

The name seemed to affect Putney pleasantly; he smiled, and then he
said, "Brother Wade is a good man, and his words usually carry
conviction, but this is a serious subject, Mr. Hilary." He laughed, and
concluded earnestly, "You _must_ know that I can't talk with you on any
such authority. I couldn't talk with Mr. Wade himself."

"No, no; of course not," Matt assented; and he took himself off
crestfallen, ashamed of his own short-sightedness.

There was only one way out of the trouble, and now he blamed himself for
not having tried to take that way at the outset. He had justified
himself in shrinking from it by many plausible excuses, but he could
justify himself no longer. He rejoiced in feeling compelled, as it were,
to take it. At least, now, he should not be acting from any selfish
impulse, and if there were anything unseemly in what he was going to do,
he should have no regrets on th