rward. He might have been a fly buzzing on the wall for all the
attention his uncle paid him.

"I presume likely the Dunns told you, Caroline," he repeated, calmly.

His niece met his gaze stubbornly.

"Well," she answered, "and if they did? Wasn't it necessary we should
know it? Oh!" with a shudder of disgust, "I wish I could make you
understand how ashamed I feel--how _wicked_ and ashamed I feel that
I--_I_ should have disgraced father's memory by.... Oh, but there! I
can't! Yes; Mrs. Dunn and Malcolm did tell us--many things. Thank God
that we _have_ friends to tell us the truth!"

"Amen!" quietly. "I'll say amen to that, Caroline, any time. Only I want
you to be sure those you call friends are real ones and that the truths
they tell ain't like the bait on a fishhook, put on _for_ bait and just
thick enough to cover the barb."

"Do you mean to insinuate--" screamed the irrepressible nephew, wild
at being so completely ignored. His uncle again paid not the slightest
attention.

"But that ain't neither here nor there now," he went on. "Caroline, Mr.
Pearson just told you that his coming to this house without tellin' you
fust of his quarrel with 'Bije was his fault. That ain't so. The fault
was mine altogether. He told me the whole story; told me that he hadn't
called since it happened, on that very account. And I took the whole
responsibility and _asked_ him to come. I did! Do you know why?"

If he expected an answer none was given. Caroline's lids drooped
disdainfully. "Steve," she said, "let us go."

"Stop! You'll stay here until I finish. I want to say that I didn't tell
you about the Trolley fuss because I wanted you to learn some things for
yourself. I wanted you to know Mr. Pearson--to find out what sort of man
he was afore you judged him. Then, when you had known him long enough
to understand he wasn't a liar and a blackguard, and all that Steve has
called him, I was goin' to tell you the whole truth, not a part of it.
And, after that, I was goin' to let you decide for yourself what to do.
I'm a lot older than you are; I've mixed with all sorts of folks; I'm
past the stage where I can be fooled by--by false hair or soft soap. You
can't pour sweet oil over a herrin' and make me believe it's a sardine.
I know the Pearson stock. I've sailed over a heap of salt water with
one of the family. And I've kept my eyes open since I've run acrost this
particular member. And I knew your father, too, Caroline Warren.