u," said Polly, as they were sitting down. "Tunk
has reformed."

"He must have been busy," said Trove, "and he's ruined his epitaph."

"His epitaph?"

"Yes; that one Darrel wrote for him: 'Here lies Tunk. O Grave!
where is thy victory?'"

"Tunk has one merit: he never deceived any one but himself," said
the widow.

"Horses have run away with him," Trove continued. "His character
is like a broken buggy; and his imagination--that's the unbroken
colt. Every day, for a long time, the colt has run away with the
wagon, tipping it over and dragging it in the ditch, until every
bolt is loose, and every spoke rattling, and every wheel awry. I
do hope he's repaired his 'ex.'"

"He walks better and complains less," the widow answered.

"Often he stands very straight and walks like you," said Polly,
laughing.

"He thinks you are the only great man," so spoke the widow.

"Gone from one illusion to another," said Trove. "It's a lesson;
every one should go softly. Tom, will you now describe the
melancholy feat of Theophilus Thistleton?"

The fable was quickly repeated.

"That Mr. Thistleton was a foolish fellow, and there's many like
him," said Trove. "He had better have been thrusting blueberries
into his mouth. I declare!" he added, sitting back with a look of
surprise, "I'm happy again."

"And we are going to keep you so," Polly answered with decision.

"Darrel would tell me that I am at last in harmony with a great law
which, until now, I have been defying. It is true; I have thought
too much of my own desires."

"I do not understand you," said Polly. "Now, we heard of the shot
and iron--how you came by them and how, one night, you threw them
into the river at Hillsborough. That led, perhaps, to most of your
trouble. I'd like to know what moral law you were breaking when
you flung them into the river?"

"A great law," Trove answered; "but one hard to phrase."

"Suppose you try."

"The innocent shall have no fear," said he. "Until then I had kept
the commandment."

There was a little time of silence.

"If you watch a coward, you'll see a most unhappy creature." It
was Trove who spoke. "Darrel said once, 'A coward is the prey of
all evil and the mark of thunderbolts.'"

"I'll not admit you're a coward," were the words of Polly.

"Well," said he, rising, "I had fear of only one thing,--that I
should lose your love."

Reaching home next day, Trove found that Allen had sold Phyllis.
The m