him. He remembered how lightly the boy had taken his father's
tirade which had thrown him upon his own resources, and compared this
with the depressing effect which his own criticism had produced.

"Poor boy, I'm really sorry for him," he said to himself. "With old
Stephen on one side and with me on the other, and with his fancied
devotion to Alice on top of it all, he must feel that the world is
against him." Then Gorham's face became stern again. "But he must take
on ballast," he said, firmly; "he must get over these snap-judgments and
learn to recognize that he is playing with tools too heavy for him to
handle. It will do him good--but I love the boy for his courage. It will
land him somewhere if he keeps his head."

XX

The days passed by with nothing to justify Eleanor's apprehensions
resulting from Ralph Buckner's presence in New York, so her fears
vanished, and with them the necessity of disturbing her husband's
tranquillity with this confidence which already had been so long
postponed. Gorham's sudden trip to Washington made this even more
natural. Alice had told her of Covington's proposal, and was eager to
discuss the situation from every possible standpoint. To the older woman
the girl's attitude toward Allen seemed heartless, yet, knowing her
husband's feeling in the matter, she decided that it was wiser to leave
the young people to solve their own problem. Youth is ever heartless in
its attitude toward others, and it is only by its own suffering that it
learns the lesson of consideration. Eleanor sought to impress Alice with
the importance of being sure of her own heart before making her final
decision, and encouraged her to take plenty of time. She would have
hesitated to do this, on her husband's account, except that with Allen
so hopelessly out of the running the delay could do no harm. Alice must
make no error, Eleanor kept repeating to herself, recalling with painful
vividness the result of her own mistaken act of duty.

Covington became a constant visitor at the Gorham home, assuming more
and more the prerogatives of an accepted suitor. His attentions were
assiduous and his companionship was so agreeable that Alice considered
the arrangement ideal. Each time he urged her to give him a definite
reply she begged off in such a playful, girlish fashion that Covington
mildly acquiesced, feeling that each day's association made the
situation that much more favorable to him. And this courtship, cu