Along this line she argued with herself while
she ordered a tray to be sent up as soon as Doctor Martin arrived.

She gave particular instructions as to the preparation of the dainties
Martin enjoyed but which no one but Doris ever set before him.

"I chose the shield of silence," she mused. "Why should I ask another to
help me with it now?"

Still, in the end, her honest soul knew that it was not help for herself
she was seeking, but guidance for the children whose best interests she
must serve.

And then, as one looks back over the path he has travelled while he
pauses before going on, Doris Fletcher saw how the love of David Martin
had been transformed for her sake into friendship that it might brighten
her way. She had never been able to give him what he desired, but so
precious was she to him--and full well she knew it--that he had become
her friend.

Out of such stuff one of two things is evolved--a resentful man, or the
most sacred thing, that can enter a woman's life, a true friend.

Martin had made a success of his profession; his unfulfilled hopes had
seemed to broaden his sympathies instead of damming them.

As the clock struck nine Martin appeared at the doorway--a tall, massive
figure, the shoulders inclined to droop as though prepared for burdens;
the eyes, under shaggy brows, were as tender as a woman's, but the mouth
and chin were like iron.

"David, it was good of you to come." Doris met him on the steps and led
him to his favourite chair, drawn close to the blazing fire.

"To take any chance leisure of yours is selfish--but I had to!"

Martin took the outstretched hands and still held them as he sat down.
After all the silent years the old thrill filled his being.

"This is a great treat," he said in his big, kind voice. "I was just
back in the office. I steered two small craft into port this
afternoon--I need a vacation."

Doris recalled how this phase of Martin's profession always exhausted
him, and she smiled gently into his eyes. Just then the tray she had
ordered was sent up. He looked at it and his tired face relaxed; the
deep eyes betrayed the boyish delight in the thought that had prompted
the act.

"You must need me pretty bad to pay so high!" he said, watching Doris
pour the thick cream into his cup of chocolate.

"I do, David, but really I'm not buying; I'm indulging myself. May I
chatter while you eat? There are three kinds of sandwiches on the plate.
Take them in turn, the