ually hesitated the less to admit these
horrible suspicions. Love is impatient of uncertainly, and would rather
presume the guilt of a friend from its longing to pour itself out in
pity and tenderness, than restrain itself while judgment scrutinizes
evidence and decides by a straw's weight.

A practical reflection, moreover, had occurred to Silas.

If Joseph had really--he did not dare to say to himself what--then
it was of the utmost importance that they should quickly understand each
other, so as to take steps to place him in safety. His desire to share
Joseph's horrible secret was like the feeling with which one would fain
uncover a friend's loathsome disease in order to help him. Before he
went to sleep that night he resolved, therefore, that he would win his
confidence by letting him see in every possible way, short of actual
words, that he suspected the true state of things, and that Joseph might
still confide in him as a faithful brother who would stand by him in the
worst emergency.

On first meeting him the following morning he began to carry out this
project so worthy of fraternal devotion. He sought occasion to shake
hands with Joseph, and gave a meaning pressure to his clasp. At
breakfast he was the only one who talked, and endeavored by his manner
to let Joseph understand that he perfectly comprehended the situation,
and was talking to cover his embarrassment and prevent Mrs. Kilgore
from suspecting anything. Several times also he managed to catch his
brother's eye, and give him a glance implying sympathy and mutual
understanding. This demeanor added the last touch to Joseph's
exasperation.

Evading Silas's evident intention of walking down-street, he got away
alone, and took both dinner and tea at a restaurant, to put off meeting
his brother and sister-in-law as long as possible. He lingered long over
his tea in the darkest, loneliest corner of the eating-house, for the
prospect, no longer to be avoided, of returning home to confront his
sister-in-law's frightened face and Silas's pathetic glances appeared
intolerable. Wild ideas of flying from the city and returning never, or
not until the truth about the murder had come to light, occurred to him.
He even began to arrange what sort of a letter he should write to Silas.
But men of forty, especially of Joseph's temperament, who have moved in
the same business and domestic ruts all their lives, do not readily
make up their minds to bold steps of this sor