but will you
give us the pleasure of your company at supper?"

"You're very kind, William, but I don't think I can."

"Do, Mr. Bates. The wife will be as pleased as me--as I."

The old fellow looked up at Dale hesitatingly; and Dale, looking down
at his clean-shaven cheeks, bushy white eyebrows, and the long wisps
of white hair brushed across his bald head, felt a great reverence. He
would not look at the threadbare shabbiness of the gray cloth suit, or
at the queer tints given by time and weather to the black felt hat
that was being balanced on two shrunken knees.

"I, ah, don't think I'll present myself before Mrs. Dale--ah, without
more preparation than this. Besides, would it not put her out?"

"No, indeed. Quite unceremonious--taking us exactly as you find
us--pot-luck."

"Then be it so. You are very good. Thank you, William."

"Thank you, Mr. Bates." Dale seized upon the visitor's hat and stick.
"Now you may cut along, Norah, and tell Mrs. Dale that Mr. Bates is
kind enough to stay supper--without ceremony."

Norah glided across the office to the inner door, and, going out,
asked if she should bring a lamp.

"Yes, bring the lamp in ten minutes--not before. There's light enough
for two such old friends to chat together;" and Dale waited until she
had shut the door. "Now, sir, this is kind and friendly. Give me your
hand, Mr. Bates. I'd like to hold it in mine, while I say these few
prelim'nary words."

"Yes, William?" The old man had immediately offered his hand, and he
looked up with a puzzled and anxious expression.

"I merely wish to assure you, Mr. Bates, very sincerely, that if you
at this moment could see right into my heart, you'd plainly see my
respect, and what is more, my true affection for you, sir."

"I believe it, William."

"And it has always been a source of comfort to me to think that you,
sir, have entertained a most kindly feeling to me, sir."

Mr. Bates had averted his eyes, and he moved his feet restlessly, his
demeanor seeming to indicate that he regretted having accepted the
supper invitation and was perhaps desirous of withdrawing his
acceptance.

"I hope," Dale went on, "I haven't been presumptuous in my estimate of
your feeling, sir."

"No." And the old man looked up again. His eyes, his whole face had
grown soft, and the tone of his voice was firm, yet rather low and
very sweet. "No, William, my feeling for you began in taking note of
your sharpness combined with your