irl--" He left the sentence unfinished.

"You have not seen her since--since she was young?" questioned Ann.

Abner shook his head. "She married an Englishman. He took her back
with him to London."

"I don't like Englishmen," said Ann.

"They have their points," suggested Abner. "Besides, boys take after
their mothers, they say." And Abner rose and gathered his letters
together.

Ann remained very thoughtful all that day. In the evening, when Abner
for a moment laid down his pen for the purpose of relighting his pipe,
Ann came to him, seating herself on the corner of the desk.

"I suppose," she said, "that's why you never married mother?"

Abner's mind at the moment was much occupied with the Panama Canal.

"What mother?" he asked. "Whose mother?"

"My mother," answered Ann. "I suppose men are like that."

"What are you talking about?" said Abner, dismissing altogether the
Panama Canal.

"You loved my mother very much," explained Ann with cold deliberation.
"She always made you think of Wordsworth's perfect woman."

"Who told you all that?" demanded Abner.

"You did."

"I did?"

"It was the day you took me away from Miss Carew's because she said she
couldn't manage me," Ann informed him.

"Good Lord! Why, that must be two years ago," mused Abner.

"Three," Ann corrected him. "All but a few days."

"I wish you'd use your memory for things you're wanted to remember,"
growled Abner.

"You said you had never asked her to marry you," pursued Ann
relentlessly; "you wouldn't tell me why. You said I shouldn't
understand."

"My fault," muttered Abner. "I forget you're a child. You ask all
sorts of questions that never ought to enter your head, and I'm fool
enough to answer you."

One small tear that had made its escape unnoticed by her was stealing
down her cheek. He wiped it away and took one of her small paws in
both his hands.

"I loved your mother very dearly," he said gravely. "I had loved her
from a child. But no woman will ever understand the power that beauty
has upon a man. You see we're built that way. It's Nature's lure.
Later on, of course, I might have forgotten; but then it was too late.
Can you forgive me?"

"But you still love her," reasoned Ann through her tears, "or you
wouldn't want him to come here."

"She had such a hard time of it," pleaded Abner. "It made things
easier to her, my giving her my word that I would always look after the
boy. You'll help me?"