e. You needn't be afraid to read
the letter!" Pinney's exultation came partly from his certainty that it
was really Northwick, and partly from the pleasure he felt in reassuring
him; he sympathized with him as a father. His pleasure was not marred by
the fact that he knew nothing of the state of Northwick's family, and
built his assertion upon the probability that the letter would contain
nothing to alarm or afflict him, "Like a glass of water?" he suggested,
seeing Northwick sit inert and helpless on the steps of the inn-porch,
apparently without the force to break the seal of the letter. "Or a
little brandy?" Pinney handed him the neat leather-covered flask his
wife had reproached him for buying when they came away from home; she
said he could not afford it; but he was glad he had got it, now, and he
unscrewed the stopple with pride in handing it to Northwick. "You look
sick."

"I haven't been very well," Northwick admitted, and he touched the
bottle with his lips. It revived him, and Pinney now saw that if he
would leave him again, he would open the letter. There was little in it
but the tender assurance Suzette gave him of their love, and the anxiety
of Adeline and herself to know how and where he was. She told him that
he was not to feel troubled about them; that they were well, and unhappy
only for him; but he must not think they blamed him, or had ever done
so. As soon as they were sure they could reach him, she said, they would
write to him again. Adeline wrote a few lines with her name, to say that
for some days past she had not been quite well; but that she was better
and had nothing to wish for but to hear from him.

When Pinney came back a second time, he found Northwick with the letter
open in his hand.

"Well, sir," he said, with the easy respectfulness toward Northwick that
had been replacing, ever since he talked with Matt Hilary, the
hail-fellow manner he used with most men, and that had now fully
established itself, "You've got some noble scenery about here." He meant
to compliment Northwick on the beauty of the landscape, as people
ascribe merit to the inhabitants of a flourishing city.

Northwick, by his silence, neither accepted nor disclaimed the credit of
the local picturesqueness; and Pinney ventured to add, "But you seem to
take it out in nature, Mr. Northwick. The place is pretty quiet, sir."

Northwick paid no heed to this observation, either; but after sitting
mute so long that Pinney be