ure,
unknotted the reins, mounted, and rode off at speed.

Rand's haste did not hold. Remorse does not necessarily break habit, and
the habit of his lifetime was attention to detail, system in matters of
business, scrupulous response to the call where he acknowledged the
right. He drew rein at Mrs. Selden's, dismounted, and lifted the
knocker.

Cousin Jane Selden herself met him in the hail. "Lewis! I'm as glad to
see you as if you brought the south wind! Come in to the fire, and I'll
ring for cake and wine. It is bitter weather even for January. All's
well at Roselands?"

"All's well."

They entered the small parlour and sat down before the fire. "I saw
Jacqueline," continued Mrs. Selden, "at church last Sunday. I thought
her looking very badly pale and absent. I know, Lewis Rand, that you
love each other dearly. There has been no quarrel?"

"No quarrel."

"I don't know," quoth Mrs. Selden, "of which I'm most sensible when it's
in the air--an east wind or something amiss. The wind's in the north
to-day, but the latter's on my mind. What is wrong, Lewis?"

"My dear old friend, what should be wrong?"

"That is what I asked you."

"Then nothing," he replied, "nothing but the north wind. Now about
Carfax--"

Advice given on the subject of all dealings with Carfax, the adviser
rose to take his leave. Mrs. Selden removed her spectacles and laid them
in her key-basket. It was a sign with her that she was about to speak
her mind.

"Lewis," she said, "I was a good friend to you once."

"Do I not know that?" he answered. "The best friend a poor boy ever
had."

"No, not quite that--except, perhaps, to help you a little with
Jacqueline. Mr. Jefferson was the best friend a poor boy ever had."

Rand winced. "You say true. The best friend a boy could have. Give me
another glass of wine, and then I'll go."

"A man like that during youth and a woman like Jacqueline for your
manhood--you have had much to prop your life."

"Yes. Very much."

"Then," she said sharply, "don't let it fall. Grow upward, Lewis, like
the vine that gave its strength to make this generous wine! If you
don't, you'll disappoint your Maker, to say nothing of some poor earthly
friends! Don't fall--don't run upon the earth like poison oak. You're
meant for noble uses--to help your kind, and to rejoice the heart of the
Maker of strong men. Don't you fail and fall, Lewis Rand!"

Rand paused before her. "How should I help my kind, now--now?"