Anderson, who was rather
deaf and admitted to being a heavy sleeper, knew that Jeff dropped in
occasionally. He suspected she did not know how regularly, but she was
one of that large class of American mothers who let their daughters
arrange their own love affairs and would not have interfered had she
known.

Once or twice it flashed upon Jeff that this ought not to go on. Since
he had no intention of marrying Nell he must not let their relationship
reach the emotional climax toward which he guessed it was racing. But
his experience in such matters was limited. He did not know how to break
off their friendship without hurting her, and he was eager to minimize
the possibility of danger. His modesty made this last easy. Out of her
kindness she was good to him, but it was not to be expected that so
pretty a girl would fall in love with a man like him.

The most potent argument for letting things drift was his own craving
for her. She was becoming necessary to him. Whenever he thought of her
it was with a tender glow. Her soft long-lashed eyes would come between
him and the editorial he was writing. A dozen times a day he could see
a picture of the tilted little coaxing mouth. The gurgle of her laughter
called to him for hours before he left the office.

He got into the habit of talking to her about the things that were
troubling him--the tactics of the enemy, the desertion of friends,
the dubious issue of the campaign. Curled up in a big chair, her whole
attention absorbed in what he was saying Nellie made a good listener. If
she did not show a full understanding of the situation, he could always
sense her ready sympathy. Her naive, indignant loyalty was touching.

"I read what the _Advocate_ said about you today," she told him one
night, a tide of color in her cheeks. "It was horrid. As if anybody
would believe it."

"I'm afraid a good many people do," he said gravely.

"Nobody who knows you," she protested stoutly.

"Yes, some who know me."

He let his eyes dwell on her. It was easy to see how undisciplined of
life she was, save where its material aspects had come into impact with
her on the economic side.

"None of your real friends."

"How many real friends has a man--friends who will stand by him no
matter how unpopular he is?"

"I don't know. I should think you'd have lots of them."

He shook his head, a hint of a smile in his eyes. "Not many. They keep
their chocolate and sandwiches for folks whose t