that I was in for it. I knew she was--was
attractive--and that made me hate to see Harry with her, and I could
not bear her being carried off to this horrible place--but as to
myself, I never thought of it till I saw her--white and broken--' and
then came that old action Ethel knew so well in her father, of clearing
the dew from the glasses, and his voice was half sob, 'and with no
creature but that selfish brother to take care of her. I couldn't help
it, Ethel--no one could--and this--this was her answer. I don't wonder.
I had been a supercilious prig, and I ought to have known better than
to think I could comfort her.'

'I think the remembrance must have comforted her since.'

'What--what, has she said anything?'

'Oh no, she could not, you know. But I am sure, if it did anger her at
the moment, there must have been comfort in recollecting that even such
a terrible trouble had not alienated you. And now--'

'Now that's just what I don't want! I don't want to stalk in and say
here's the hero of romance that has saved your brother! I want to get
her home, and show her that I can be civil without being satirical, and
then, perhaps, she would forgive me.'

'Forgive you--'

'I mean forgiveness won, not purchased. And after all, you know it was
mere accident--Providence if you please--that brought me to that poor
wretch; all my plans of tracking him had come to an end; any one else
could have done what I did.'

'She will not feel that,' said Ethel; 'but indeed, Tom, I see what you
mean, and like it. It is yourself, and not the conferrer of the
benefit, that you want her to care for.'

'Exactly,' said Tom. 'And, Ethel, I must have seen her and judged of
my chance before I can be good for anything. I tried to forget it--own
it as a lucky escape--a mere passing matter, like Harry's affairs--but
I could not do it. Perhaps I could if things had gone well; but that
dear face of misery, that I only stung by my attempts to comfort, would
stick fast with me, and to go and see Leonard only brought it more
home. It is a horrid bad speculation, and Flora and Cheviot and
Blanche will scout it; but, Ethel, you'll help me through, and my
father will not mind, I know.'

'Papa will feel as I do, Tom--that it has been your great blessing,
turn out as it may.'

'H'm! has it? A blessing on the wrong side of one's mouth--to go about
with a barb one knew one was a fool for, and yet couldn't forget!
Well, I know what you