.... I heard you were gassed, too."

"Oh, everything came my way, Mr. Iden.... And the finish isn't far
off."

Iden shifted his legs uneasily, then sat more erect, and for the first
time really looked at Lane. It was the glance of a man who had strong
aversion to the class Lane represented, but who was fair-minded and
just, and not without sympathy.

"That's too bad, Lane. You're a young man.... The war hit us all, I
guess," he said, and at the last, sighed heavily.

"It's been a long pull--Blair Maynard and I were the first to enlist,
and we left Middleville almost immediately," went on Lane.

He desired to plant in Iden's mind the fact that he had left
Middleville long before the wild era of soldier-and-girl attraction
which had created such havoc. Acutely sensitive as Lane was, he could
not be sure of an alteration in Iden's aloofness, yet there was some
slight change. Then he talked frankly about specific phases of the
war. Finally, when he saw that he had won interest and sympathy from
Iden he abruptly launched his purpose.

"Mr. Iden, I came to ask if you will give your consent to my marrying
Mel."

The older man shrank back as if he had been struck. He stared. His
lower jaw dropped. A dark flush reddened his cheek.

"What!... Lane, you must be drunk," he ejaculated, thickly.

"No. I never was more earnest in my life. I want to marry Mel Iden."

"Why?" rasped out the father, hoarsely.

"I understand Mel," replied Lane, and swiftly he told his convictions
as to the meaning and cause of her sacrifice. "Mel is good. She never
was bad. These rotten people who see dishonor and disgrace in her have
no minds, no hearts. Mel is far above these painted, bare-kneed girls
who scorn her.... And I want to show them what _I_ think of her. I
want to give her boy a name--so he'll have a chance in the world. I'll
not live long. This is just a little thing I can do to make it easier
for Mel."

"Lane, you can't be the father of her child," burst out Iden.

"No. I wish I were. I was never anything to Mel but a friend. She was
only a girl--seventeen when I left home."

"So help me God!" muttered Iden, and he covered his face with his
hands.

"Say yes, Mr. Iden, and I'll go to Mel this afternoon."

"No, let me think.... Lane, if you're not drunk, you're crazy."

"Not at all. Why, Mr. Iden, I'm perfectly rational. Why, I'd glory in
making that splendid girl a little happier, if it's possible."

"I drove my--my gir