etter. She was so bright last night."

"Yes, last night," she returned impressively, setting the lid of the
tea-kettle firmly in its place. "Did you ever think that you did wrong in
writing to her so many years and then stopping short all of a sudden,
giving her no reason at all?"

"Do you mean _that_ has changed her, and hurt her?" he asked, in extreme
surprise.

"I do. I mean that. I mean that you gained her affections and then left
her," she returned with severity.

Hollis was now trembling in every limb, strong man as he was; he caught
at the back of a chair, and leaned on his two hands as he stood behind
it gazing into her face with mute lips.

"And now, what do you intend to do?"

"I never did that! It was not in my heart to do that! I would scorn to do
it!" he declared with vehemence.

"Then what did you do?" she asked quietly.

"We were good friends. We liked to write to each other. I left off
writing because I thought it not fair to interfere with Morris."

"Morris! What did he have to do with it?"

"She wears his ring," he said in a reasoning voice.

"She wears it as she would wear it if a brother had given it to her. They
were brother and sister."

Hollis stood with his eyes upon the floor. Afterward Mrs. West told Miss
Prudence that when it came to that, she pitied him with all her heart,
"he shook all over and looked as if he would faint."

"Mrs. West!" he lifted his eyes and spoke in his usual clear, manly
voice, "I have never thought of marrying any one beside Marjorie. I gave
that up when mother wrote me that she cared for Morris. I have never
sought any one since. I have been waiting--if she loved Morris, she could
not love me. I have been giving her time to think of me if she wanted
to--"

"I'd like to know how. You haven't given her the first sign."

"She does not know me; she is shy with me. I do not know her; we do not
feel at home with each other."

"How are you going to get to feel at home with each other five hundred
miles apart?" inquired the practical mother.

"It will take time."

"Time! I should think it would." Mrs. West pushed a stick of wood into
the stove with some energy.

"But if you think it is because--"

"I do think so."

"Then she must know me better than I thought she did," he continued,
thoughtfully.

"Didn't she go to school with you?"

"Not with me grown up."

"That's a distinction that doesn't mean anything."

"It means something to me. I am mo