. "I thought that would pain you, and so did
Dora, but there is nothing else to do but to tell you about it frankly.
The heads of the work prefer men with wives, and Dora has her heart set
on aiding me in the Orient."

The smoldering embers of John's antagonism under its threatened blight
flared up. His blood flowed hotly to his brain. He knew that the
separation would be for years if not for all time, and how could he be
expected to submit calmly to such a heartless course? Could Dora find it
in her gentle nature to desert him like that after all they had been to
each other?

"I see that you are hurt," Harold sighed, softly, "and I am more than
sorry, Mr. Trott."

John's anger was dying down; a cool breath of sheer despair and
resignation seemed to blow over him. How could he live on alone? he
wondered, and yet the thing proposed was the logical outcome of many
natural circumstances and had to be borne.

"I believe," John answered, "that the missionaries, once they leave, do
not return to America frequently?"

"No, they are all poor people, Mr. Trott, and the money saved from such
costly traveling expenses can be well used in other ways."

"We'll let that pass," John said, "and come to something else. I have
put by a little money to be given or left to Dora, and--"

But raising his hand, and flushing freely now, Harold checked him.

"Don't speak of that, Mr. Trott, please!" he urged. "Dora mentioned
something of the sort to me. She said you had thrown out some hint of it
recently, and she and I talked it over. We both decided that we'd rather
not let you do anything of the sort. You are a young man yourself, and
have already done a thousand times more than your duty to Dora. Indeed,
we'd both feel very unhappy if you carried out such a plan. You laugh at
men of my calling and say they are grafters, but it is really not as you
think. Most of the missionaries I've met are poor men, and they are
willing to remain so. It would be an absurdity for Dora and me to accept
help from you, when our organization is pledged to see that
superannuated ministers and their wives are cared for as long as they
live."

John was about to speak, vaguely pleased by the manliness of Harold's
words, when Dora suddenly came in. Her face was flushed, but her eyes
were steady. She stood by Harold's side, who had risen, and smiled half
fearfully at John.

"Well, have you told him?" she asked Harold.

He nodded, and put his arm around