t be revivified from such a poison, much less our poor
selves, sir, who strive a lifetime constructing character for those
damned polluters to blight with their graveyard whisperings! I detest
it, sir! The stench of it is repulsive to honest men and gentle women!
But come," he added more genially, "before we spoil our breakfasts."

Miss Liz was waiting at the table and she poured their coffee with more
than her usual concern. The Colonel could invariably detect in what
humor that dear lady happened to be by the way she rendered him this
service. He told her of Mesmie's condition, and portions of the other
news imparted by Aunt Timmie--breathing no word of the man-hunt, or what
had led to it. For awhile her usually severe face was softened, and then
she arose.

"You must both get on without me this morning," she said, with a faint
smile. "I must go to that girl, for she needs someone besides Timmie,
and Timmie needs rest." At the door she hesitated. "Have I not told you,
brother John, that the middle class is our country's safeguard?--that we
would be in a sorry plight without it?"

Meaning no unkindness toward Nancy, but to vindicate himself in a former
argument--and, of course, having kept from her the unpleasant
termination of the mountaineer's visit, he said:

"Had she not come, we might have had Dale. You know that he offered
himself."

"Yes, and I am very glad; for Dale is of that great treasure house--the
middle class!"

The Colonel cleared his throat. "Well, my dear, I gathered from Timmie
that Brent, not once but twice, offered the same service most
handsomely."

"Cut it!" Brent, flushing, whispered savagely across at him.

"One may always depend upon a gentleman," she drew herself up with
dignity, "to meet any situation!"

"Then it is not a question of class, but of being a gentleman, that
should decide," the Colonel chuckled.

But Miss Liz swept haughtily from the room and her untenable position,
her answer trickling back to them until she reached the porch:

"There has been too much noble generosity shown upon your place during
these twelve hours for you and me, John, to part with mutual
recriminations!"

Straining his ears to catch the last of this, the old gentleman looked
resignedly at Brent. "A wonderful institution is woman," he sighed. "By
the way, where is Dale?"

Uncle Zack, whose wondering eyes had scarcely left their travel stained
clothing, answered that he was in the library. Yet,