Husted, when will you understand life as it is? You take the false for
the real and the real for the false!"

"I take Mr. Poons for a fool!" said Miss Husted with some asperity, "and
I am not far wrong."

"On the contrary," assented Von Barwig, "to some extent you are right,
quite right! But he is young, and he is in love. To you, perhaps; love
is foolishness; but love is all there is in life." There was quite a
pause. Miss Husted toyed with the letter she had not yet given to the
professor.

"You may be right, of course," said Miss Husted after a while. She was
more placid now, more like herself. In thought she had gone back many
years to a certain episode, the memory of which softened her toward
love's young dream, and even toward Poons.

Von Barwig looked at her a moment, then took her hand in his.

"Is it possible, dear lady, that you, in your woman's heart, never wished
that you had something to take care of besides Skippy?"

"Yes, but Mr. Poons is not--" began Miss Husted, and then she blurted out
"I can't understand him; he can't understand me. I might talk to him for
a week and he wouldn't know what I was talking about!"

"Yes, but Jenny understands him. What joy have you in life alone? Think
of the joy of seeing a young couple begin life, just like two young birds
in a little bird's nest! God put love into their hearts; can you stop
them? No, neither you nor I can forbid! As well try to count the sands
of the sea, as well try to stop the waves, the tides!"

Miss Husted did not reply for a moment. It was evident that Von Barwig
had made some impression on her, but she would not admit it.

"I had built such hopes on Jenny," she said, shaking her head sadly.

"Can you tell how Poons will turn out?" inquired Von Barwig, feeling that
he was gaining ground.

Miss Husted elevated her nose slightly, and handed the professor his
letter. "He'll turn out of this house if he makes love to my niece!" she
said.

"Give the matter a little thought," urged Von Barwig. "They both love
you," he added.

Miss Husted sighed deeply as if thoroughly disappointed. Then she began
to whimper. She told Von Barwig the story of Jenny's life; which story,
with variations, he had heard annually for many years. He listened
patiently, and agreed with her. Finally he extracted from her a promise
to suspend action in reference to Poons until she had given the matter
more thought.

"But in the meantime," insist