by craft and partially by luck,
he had prevented her father's discovering young Howard's presence in
the house, she had unreservedly given him her friendship. And this gift
Galusha appreciated. He had liked her when they first met and the liking
had increased. She was a sensible, quiet, unaffected country girl. She
was also an extremely pretty girl, and when a very pretty girl--and
sensible and unaffected and the rest--makes you her confidant and asks
your advice concerning her love affair and her heart's most precious
secrets, even a middle-aged "mummy duster," whose interest in the female
sex has, until very recently, centered upon specimens of that sex who
have been embalmed several thousand years--even such a one cannot help
being gratified by the subtle flattery.

So when Lulie asked his advice Galusha gave it, such as he happened to
have in stock, whole-heartedly and without reserve. He and she had many
chats and the subjects of these chats were almost invariably two--her
father and Nelson Howard. How could she reconcile the one with and to
the other? Mr. Bangs' council was, of course, to wait and hope, but
a council of procrastination is, to say the most, but partially
satisfying.

One afternoon, in the middle of May, he met her on the way back from the
village and, as they walked on together, he asked her if there were any
new developments in the situation. She looked troubled.

"I don't exactly know what you mean by developments," she said. "If you
mean that father is any more reconciled to Nelson, he isn't, that's all.
On any other subject he is as nice as he can be. If I wanted anything in
the world, and he had money enough to buy it, I do believe I could have
it just for the asking. That is a good deal to say," she added, with a
half smile, "considering how fond father is of money, but honestly, Mr.
Bangs, I think it's true."

Galusha declared that he had no doubt of its truth, indeed, no.

"But, you see," continued Lulie, "the one thing I do want--which is for
father to like Nelson--can't be bought with money. I try to talk with
him, and argue with him; sometimes when he is especially good-natured
and has been especially nice to me, I try to coax him, but it always
ends in one way; he gets cross and won't listen. 'Don't talk to me
about that Howard swab, I won't hear it.' That's what he always says. He
always calls Nelson a 'swab.' Oh, dear! I'm so tired of it all."

"Yes--ah--yes, I'm sure you must b