hen Carroll spoke quite to the point. "I could have sent for the
bill which you have so generously not sent, which you have so
generously allowed my poor, little daughter to think was settled,"
said he, "but if you had sent it I simply could not have paid it. I
could have written you what I wished to say, but I thought I could
say it better. I wish to say to you that I shall be obliged if you
will let me know the extent of my indebtedness to you, and if you
will accept my note for six months."

"Very well," said Anderson, gravely.

"If you will have the bill made out and sent me to-morrow, I will
send you my note by return mail," said Carroll.

"Very well, Mr. Carroll," replied Anderson.

Carroll arose to go. "You have a pleasant home here, Mr. Anderson,"
he said, looking around the room with its air of old-fashioned
comfort, even state.

"It has always seemed pleasant to me," said Anderson. An odd, kindly
feeling for Carroll overcame him. He extended his hand. "I am glad
you called, Captain Carroll," he said. He hesitated a moment. Then he
added: "You will necessarily be lonely with your family away. If you
would come in again--"

"I cannot leave my daughter alone much," Carroll answered, "but
otherwise I should be glad to. Thank you." He looked at Anderson with
evident hesitation. There was something apparently which he was about
to say, but doubted the wisdom of saying it.

"Your daughter is still with you?" Anderson said.

"Yes."

Then Anderson hesitated a second. Then he spoke. "Would you allow me
to call upon your daughter, Captain Carroll?" he asked, bluntly.

Carroll's face paled as he looked at him. "On my daughter?"

"Yes. Captain Carroll, will you be seated again for a few minutes. I
have something I would like to say to you."

Anderson was pale, but his voice was quite firm. He had a strange
sensation as of a man who had begun a dreaded leap, and felt that in
reality the worst was over, that the landing could in no way equal
the shock of the start. Carroll followed him back into the
sitting-room and sat down.

Anderson began at once with no preface. "I should like to marry your
daughter, if she can love me well enough," he said, simply.

"Does she know you at all, Mr. Anderson?" Carroll said, in a dazed
sort of fashion.

"She knows me a little. I have, of course, seen her in my store."

"Yes."

"And once, as you may remember, she came here."

"Yes, when she had the fright from the tra