so quick to observe that you are hardly a
fair test. That little thunderer will not get me again. I'll fool the
ones I want to fool. And I'm learning, Lanny, learning all the
time--getting a little deafer all the time. Miss Galland," he added,
struck in visible contrition by a new thought, "I am sorry"--he paused
with head down for an instant--"very sorry to have deceived you."

"But you are still a deaf gardener to me," said Marta, finding
consolation in pleasing him.

"Eh? eh?" He put his hand to his ear as he resumed his stoop. "Yes,
yes," he added, as a deaf man will when understanding of a remark which
he failed at first to catch comes to him in an echo. "Yes, the gardener
has no past," he declared in the gentle old gardener's voice, "when all
the flowers die every year and he thinks only of next year's
blossoms--of the future!"

Now the air of the room seemed to be stifling him, that of the roofless
world of the garden calling him. His face spoke pitifully a desire for
escape as he withdrew. The bent figure disappeared around a turn in the
path and they listened without moving until the sound of his slow,
dragging footfalls had died away.

"When he is serving those of his own social station I can see how it
would be easier for him not to have me know," said Marta. "Sensitive,
proud, and intense--" and a look of horror appeared in her eyes. "As he
came across the room his face was transformed. I imagine it was like
that of a man giving no quarter in a bayonet charge!"

"His secret was at stake!" Lanstron said in ready championship.

She put up her hand as if to shut out a picture.

"Don't let us think of it!" she exclaimed with a shudder. "He did not
know what he was doing. His is one of the natures that have moments when
an impulse throws them off their balance and ruins the work of years.
No, we must think only of his sacrifice, his enforced humiliation, in
order to try to make amends for the past according to his light. No one
could refuse him sympathy and respect."

Feller had won the day for himself where a friend's pleas might have
failed. This was as it should be, Lanstron thought; and he smiled
happily over the rare thing in Marta that felt the appeal which Feller
had for him.

"The right view--the view that you were bound to take!" he said.

"And yet, I don't know your plans for him, Lanny. Pity is one thing;
there is another thing to consider," she replied, with an abrupt change
of tone. "But