re; and Father Honore told
me afterward that he was thinking of that same thing. We both wondered
if Mr. Van Ostend recalled that evening, and the fact of our first
acquaintance, although unknown to one another."

"I wonder--" said Aileen, musingly.

Champney spoke abruptly again; there was a note of uneasiness in his
voice:

"I wonder what keeps Honore--I'll just run up the road and see if he's
coming. If he isn't, I will go on till I meet the boys. I wish," he
added wistfully, "that McCann felt as kindly to me as Billy does to my
son; I am beginning to think that old grudge of his against me will
never yield, not even to time;--I'll be back in a few minutes."

Aileen watched him out of sight; then she turned to Aurora Googe.

"We are blest in this turn of affairs, aren't we, mother? This meeting
is the one thing Champney has been dreading--and yet longing for. I'm
glad it's over."

"So am I; and I am inclined to think Father Honore brought it about; if
you remember, he said nothing about Mr. Van Ostend's being here when he
stopped just now."

"So he didn't!" Aileen spoke in some surprise; then she added with a
joyous laugh: "Oh, that dear man is sly--bless him!"--But the tears
dimmed her eyes.

II

"Go straight home with Honore, Billy, as straight as ever you can," said
Father Honore to eight-year-old Billy McCann who for the past year had
constituted himself protector of five-year-old Honore Googe; "I'll watch
you around the power-house."

Little Honore reached up with both arms for the usual parting from the
man he adored. The priest caught him up, kissed him heartily, and set
him down again with the added injunction to "trot home."

The two little boys ran hand in hand down the road. Father Honore
watched them till the power-house shut them from sight; then he waited
for their reappearance at the other corner where the road curves
downward to the highroad. He never allowed Honore to go alone over the
piece of road between the point where he was standing and the
power-house, for the reason that it bordered one of the steepest and
roughest ledges in The Gore; a careless step would be sure to send so
small a child rolling down the rough surface. But beyond the
power-house, the ledges fell away very gradually to the lowest slopes
where stood, one among many in the quarries, the new monster steel
derrick which the men had erected last week. They had been testing it
for several days; even now its powerfu