That your reason for selling was an honorable one,
that is all I ask."

"It was that, Mother."

"I am sure of it. But," hesitatingly, "can you tell me this: You did not
do it because you needed money--for me? Our income is the same as ever?
We have not met with losses?"

"No, Mother. Our income is the same that it has been for years."

"Then it was not because of me; because you felt that I should have
those 'luxuries' you talk about so often? Oh, I don't need them, Roscoe
I really don't. I am--I scarcely dare say it for fear it may not be
true--but I THINK I am better than I have been. I feel stronger."

"I know you are better, Mother. Doctor Quimby is very much encouraged."

"Is he? I am so glad! For your sake, Boy. Perhaps the time will come
when I may not be your Old Man Of the Sea as I am now. But you did not
sell the land because of me?"

"No."

"You did not sell it for yourself, that I know. I wonder . . . But,
there! I mustn't wonder, and I won't. Captain Dean was very angry and
unreasonable, Dorinda says. I suppose his pride is hurt. I'm afraid he
will make it unpleasant for you in the village."

"He will do his best, I'm sure of that."

"You poor boy! As if you did not have enough to bear without that! He
has asked you to resign from the bank?"

I smiled. "He has pitched me out, neck and crop," I answered. "I
expected that, of course."

"But what will you do? Can't Mr. Taylor help you? Perhaps he will use
his influence with the captain."

"I don't need his influence, Mother. I took the place merely because of
a whim. Now that I have lost it I am no worse off than I was before."

"But you enjoyed the work?"

"Yes."

I was only beginning to realize how much I had enjoyed it. I sighed,
involuntarily.

Mother heard the sigh and the pressure of her hand on mine tightened.

"Poor boy!" she said again. Then, after a moment, "I wish I might talk
with Miss Colton about this."

I started violently. What had put that idea in her head?

"Miss Colton!" I exclaimed. "Mother, whatever you do, don't speak to
her--about me."

"Why not? She has not called on us for some time, but she is interested
in you, I know. And perhaps her father could--"

"Mother, don't."

She was silent for an instant. Then she said, quietly. "Boy, what is it?
Is there something else you haven't told me? Something about--her?"

"No, no," I stammered.

"Isn't there? Are you sure?"

I do not know what reply I should hav