ilford is going.
We hope to have the pleasure of seeing you again soon. Our latch-string
is out. Katherine, shake hands with Mr. Milford. I will light him out."

He stood on the veranda holding the lamp. "It is a dark night, and I
wish we had a lantern. But the road is straight to your house.
Good-night, and God bless you."

"They have struck up a warm friendship," said the girl.

"Astonishing," her mother replied.

The Professor put the lamp on the mantel-piece. "Is he your lost
brother?" his wife asked.

"He is more than that," the Professor answered, sinking into a chair.
"He is a man."

CHAPTER XII.

THE OLD SOFA.

Early the next morning, the Professor hastened from the dining-room to
answer a rap at his door. And there stood Milford with a roll of bank
notes in his hand.

"Ha, you've got it; I see you have. Let me shut the door. They must not
hear. Was there ever such luck? Yes, let me take it, the money. Is it
all here? Yes, down to the forty cents." He stuffed the notes into his
pocket. He held up his hand to enjoin caution. "They would rather have a
new settee than an assurance of protection against want in the future.
They live from sun to sun. I live for them, but my mind is fixed on the
time to come. I don't know how to thank you. You are a man of nerve. And
that woman! She is glorious. What did she say?"

"Oh, nothing much."

"Didn't she agree that it was the very thing for the Doctor? Didn't she
acknowledge that it would spread the news of his high standing as a
physician and a thinker?"

"Yes, she said it would do him a great deal of good abroad."

"A woman in a million. Did the abstruse parts seem to impress her?"

"Yes, she caught all the kinks."

"The Socrates of her sex. Did she say that she would send it off at
once?"

"By the first train. She was particular to ask if you had let any one
else into the secret. She's sensitive--and as I was about to go, she
asked me not to refer to the matter again, and she hoped that you
wouldn't. I don't think she can bear to be thanked. So I promised that
neither of us would speak of the transaction, even to her."

"Delicate soul! And you did well to promise. My boy, if sincere thanks
are winged things that fly to heaven, there is now a flight of gratitude
to the sky. Won't you come in?"

"No, I've just had breakfast and must go to work."

"Well, I hope to see you again before long. And, by the way, I wish to
tell you that my wife an