there, and saw him stop beside the smooth trunk of a
silver birch, he knew that a new knife had been given him that day, and
that he was going to carve his own name upon the bark. He knew that,
the task being accomplished, the child would fetch his mother, and lead
her to the tree to see how deep the knife cut, and how always--always
the name would be there!

Once, being tired with overmuch play, the child had fallen asleep
against that tree, and had wakened to hear his mother's voice
calling,--

* * * * *

The young man came back to the iron bench, his figure drooping. The
lower lip had fallen open, showing the small, regular teeth. Into the
face, "accustomed to refusals," into the wistful gaze of the pale blue
eyes, something of awe had crept. Presently he put up his boot upon his
knee, and once more his eyes fell upon the crack in the side. He moved
his foot within the boot--certainly a bulging showed; by to-morrow the
stocking would be seen.

To-morrow! Yes. He nodded his handsome head with eyes upon the boot and
breathed the word to himself.

How long ago it seemed since this tragedy of the broken boot had
befallen! Could it have been but yesterday? Was that possible?

His great need had developed his strategical powers, and accident had
seemed to further his design. Quick upon the discovery, he had
encountered his brother's page on his way to his brother's shoemaker,
bearing that relative's shoes to be repaired. Seizing the opportunity,
he had hastily divested himself of his own boot and had added that to
the page's burden.

His spirits so easily arose; such a load by that simple manoeuvre had
been lifted from his heart! He pushed his feet into his slippers and
came whistling downstairs to lunch. He had a perfect ear, and his
whistle was most melodious and sweet; the canaries in the dining-room
windows awoke and joined in shrilly. His brother, standing, with sour,
sarcastic face, upon the hearth, held fastidiously between finger and
thumb an article which apparently it was not agreeable to him to touch.

"I met Payne taking my boots," he said; "he had managed to get hold of
one of yours by mistake. I rescued it. I think we don't employ the same
bootmaker."

* * * * *

The young man's cheek did not burn any longer as he recalled that
incident. He felt nothing now, no anger, no bitterness. To such as he
it is so easy to f