ply at once. He must be fair to this woman of whose
determination he could now have no doubt; he must be fair to Hamlen, but
above all he must be fair to the girl herself. Could he assume any
position of impartiality? Would not each word really be a cry from his
own heart, not against Hamlen but against any one who should create a
barrier between himself and her? But Hamlen had besought his aid, so
after all a responsibility existed, not of his making, which could not
be shirked. He would meet the issue squarely with special care to
eliminate himself.

"I regret to say that I cannot sympathize with that plan," he said
deliberately.

Mrs. Thatcher looked at him in complete surprise. "I thought we
agreed--"

"I have had greater opportunity to study Hamlen since we last talked."

She was genuinely distressed by Huntington's attitude. "I have set my
heart upon it," she said firmly. "Through me his life was wrecked; it
would be only justice if I helped him to find his happiness."

At that moment Huntington wondered how Marian Seymour could ever have
attracted him. He had told Hamlen that the alchemy of a woman's heart
was past his comprehension, but he had believed that mothers' hearts
were all the same. He knew that Mrs. Thatcher was devoted to her
daughter, yet her insistence appeared to him inexplicable and
reprehensible. Had his companion been a man he would have told him so;
under the present circumstances he spoke more guardedly.

"Being friends and allies, we should be frank in expressing our
conviction," he explained; "this must excuse my otherwise unwarranted
objections."

"You know Merry now. Don't you agree with me that her interest is in men
older than herself?"

"Has she been consulted?"

Mrs. Thatcher flushed. "No," she answered; "I shall not speak to her
until Philip Hamlen has been persuaded."

"You think she will acquiesce?"

"I am sure of it. She may not understand at first, but I am certain that
she will feel as I do. Who could fail to see that he would be an ideal
husband for her?"

"What would your life have been if you had married Hamlen?"

"But he has changed,--he has learned much from his experience."

"He is still, and always will be an abnormal personality," Huntington
insisted. "Marriage, in my opinion, has no place in his life, and no
woman could possibly endure his eccentricities. He can still find much
to interest him among men, but I beg of you not to pursue an experiment
whi