r fear I may be indelicate. And yet I want to show you what I've
done!"

"Of course I understand," Merry replied cordially; "I'm proud to be
among the first to see your work."

"Before we go indoors, may I not take you around the grounds?" he turned
to Huntington. "Perhaps you are in the mood for it to-day?"

"By all means," his guest responded. "It will give us exactly the right
atmosphere for what is to follow."

Huntington rejoiced to see Hamlen's attitude. For an hour they wandered
from one point to another, Merry in a state of ecstasy from the superb
beauty of it all, Hamlen supremely happy in this sympathetic
companionship of which he knew so little, and Huntington contentedly
watching the life-drama enacting before his eyes. On the stage such a
sudden change from tragedy to comedy would have been considered crude,
for who could write lines of such delicacy as to portray the yearning of
a human soul, or what actors are there so great that they could mimic
the birth of hope? "God is the master-dramatist, after all," Huntington
murmured to himself as he studied the changes which made the tortured
derelict of a few days before into the contained and self-respecting
host.

They returned to the house, and Hamlen took them to his press and
bindery. Huntington purposely kept in the background, asking a question
now and then, adding a word only where it was necessary, and giving his
host the opportunity of explaining the finer points of the work to the
responsive and comprehending mind of the girl. Little by little he could
see the real Hamlen emerge from his manufactured self under the
influences around him.

But his interest was not wholly centered in Hamlen. Until to-day
Huntington had observed Merry only in her relation to others; now he
felt a personal pride in the way she carried herself, in her quick
understanding, her sympathetic responsiveness. He felt unconsciously for
these brief moments a pleasurable sense of possession which added to his
enjoyment.

"Now take us to your library," he said to Hamlen at length. "You told me
that you had there some examples of the old master-printers at which you
had scarcely looked. I want to see them; perhaps they may show us the
influences which unconsciously affected your work."

"Most of them belonged to my father," Hamlen explained, as he opened the
door for his guests to pass through into the larger room.

"He was a collector, then?"

"In a small way. As I loo