he saw it in the
same light."

"I know he did," said Stoker with a blaze as from a long-smouldering
fury, "and damn him, I'm not going to have it. I'm not going to, plead
the baby act with him, or with any man. You tell him so, when you get
the chance. You tell him I don't hold him accountable for anything I
made him do. That ain't business; I don't want him around me, any more;
but if he wants to go back to the paper he can have his place. You tell
him I stand by what I done; and it's all right between him and me. I
hain't done anything about it, the way I wanted him to help me to; I've
let it lay, and I'm a-going to. I guess it ain't going to do me any
harm, after all; our people hain't got very long memories; but if it is,
let it. You tell him it's all right."

"I don't know where he is, Mr. Stoller, and I don't know that I care to
be the bearer of your message," said March.

"Why not?"

"Why, for one thing, I don't agree with you that it's all right. Your
choosing to stand by the consequences of Burnamy's wrong doesn't undo
it. As I understand, you don't pardon it--"

Stoller gulped and did not answer at once. Then he said, "I stand by
what I done. I'm not going to let him say I turned him down for doing
what I told him to, because I hadn't the sense to know what I was
about."

"Ah, I don't think it's a thing he'll like to speak of in any case,"
said March.

Stoller left him, at the corner they had reached, as abruptly as he had
joined him, and March hurried back to his wife, and told her what had
just passed between him and Stoller.

She broke out, "Well, I am surprised at you, my dear! You have always
accused me of suspecting people, and attributing bad motives; and here
you've refused even to give the poor man the benefit of the doubt. He
merely wanted to save his savage pride with you, and that's all he wants
to do with Burnamy. How could it hurt the poor boy to know that Stoller
doesn't blame him? Why should you refuse to give his message to Burnamy?
I don't want you to ridicule me for my conscience any more, Basil;
you're twice as bad as I ever was. Don't you think that a person can
ever expiate an offence? I've often heard you say that if any one owned
his fault, he put it from him, and it was the same as if it hadn't been;
and hasn't Burnamy owned up over and over again? I'm astonished at you,
dearest."

March was in fact somewhat astonished at himself in the light of her
reasoning; but she went