oel; he's single. Marrying didn't seem to be--well, exactly in his
line. His time has been taken up with a growing business, his books, a
pet dog, and Dora. She was like a loving sister, I understand, till she
married a man she loved and moved out of the country. John is a sort
of--well, you might say a sort of stay-at-home, soured old bachelor that
never took much to women. At least that's the way I size him up. He
makes plenty of money, and has laid up some, but I don't think he cares
much for it. He's odd--a sort of deep-feeling fellow--different from the
general run of men."

In a nervous sort of movement Joel wiped his lips with his hand.

"There is a thing I'd like to know," he said, slowly, impressively,
frankly. "You say he is single, and that makes me wonder. Mr. Cavanaugh,
truth is truth, and, as you say, right is right; would you mind telling
me whether you think he has--has changed--well, in regard to his--his
feeling toward Tilly?"

"You are asking me a ticklish question," Cavanaugh said, with a start
and a dropping of his honest eyes. "You see, John never came right out
and talked plain on that line, and--"

"I was only asking for your _personal_ opinion," emphasized Joel; "in
talking with him did you gather that--that his sentiments had undergone
no change since he left here?"

"I don't see what good it will do," the old man said, "but since you
insist on knowing I may as well admit that I didn't see any change. In
my opinion, Joel, he loves her even more than he did. He didn't say so,
you understand, but that's what I gathered. I was watching him when I
told him about you and her getting married, and I must say I pitied him.
I don't know why, but I did. He looked so downcast, and, you might say,
almost astonished."

With the groping movement of a man in the dark, Eperson started to get
into his wagon, but was stopped by Mrs. Cavanaugh.

"Wait, Joel!" she called out. "You are forgetting these things," and she
brought them to him wrapped up in paper. "Give Tilly my love and tell
her if the waists don't fit I can take them in or let them out."

"Thank you; you are very, very, kind." Joel had lifted his hat, and,
with a hand that seemed bloodless, he took the parcel and put it into
his wagon, carefully covering it with his coat. He made no effort toward
starting on again, and, as there was an opening for it, Cavanaugh said
to his wife:

"I've just been telling him about John, and it seems to me tha