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〃I hope I'm not the narrow； conceited little rooster I used to be。
I told you； Helen； that the war handed me an awful jolt。 Well； it
did。 I think it； or my sickness or the whole business together；
knocked most of that self…confidence of mine galley…west。 For so
much I'm thankful。〃
〃I don't know that I am； altogether。 I don't want you to lose
confidence in yourself。 You should be confident now because you
deserve to be。 And you write with confidence； or it reads as if
you did。 Don't you feel that you do； yourself？ Truly； don't you？〃
〃Well； perhaps； a little。 I have been at it for some time now。 I
ought to show some progress。 Perhaps I don't make as many mistakes。〃
〃I can't see that you have made any。〃
〃I have made one 。 。 。 a damnable one。〃
〃Why； what do you mean？〃
〃Oh； nothing。 I didn't mean to say that。 。 。 。 Helen； do you know
it is awfully good of you to take all this interest in mein my
work； I mean。 Why do you do it？〃
〃Why？〃
〃Yes； why？〃
〃Why； because Why shouldn't I？ Haven't we always talked about
your writings together； almost since we first knew each other？
Aren't we old friends？〃
There it was againfriends。 It was like a splash of cold water in
the face； at once awakening and chilling。 Albert walked on in
silence for a few moments and then began speaking of some trivial
subject entirely disconnected with himself or his work or her。
When they reached the parsonage door he said good night at once and
strode off toward home。
Back in his room； however； he gave himself another mental picking
to pieces。 He was realizing most distinctly that this sort of
thing would not do。 It was easy to say that his attitude toward
Helen Kendall was to be that of a friend and nothing more； but it
was growing harder and harder to maintain that attitude。 He had
come within a breath that very night of saying what was in his
heart。
Well； if he had said it； if he did say itwhat then？ After all；
was there any real reason why he should not say it？ It was true
that he had loved； or fancied that he loved； Madeline； that he had
been betrothed to herbut again； what of it？ Broken engagements
were common enough； and there was nothing disgraceful in this one。
Why not go to Helen and tell her that his fancied love for Madeline
had been the damnable mistake he had confessed making。 Why not
tell her that since the moment when he saw her standing in the
doorway of the parsonage on the morning following his return from
New York he had known that she was the only woman in the world for
him； that it was her image he had seen in his dreams； in the
delirium of fever； that it was she； and not that other； who
But there； all this was foolishness； and he knew it。 He did not
dare say it。 Not for one instant had she； by speech or look or
action； given him the slightest encouragement to think her feeling
for him was anything but friendship。 And that friendship was far
too precious to risk。 He must not risk it。 He must keep still； he
must hide his thoughts； she must never guess。 Some day； perhaps；
after a year or two； after his position in his profession was more
assured； then he might speak。 But even then there would be that
risk。 And the idea of waiting was not pleasant。 What had Rachel
told him concerning the hosts of doctors and officers and generals
who had been 〃shining up〃 to her。 Some risk there； also。
Well； never mind。 He would try to keep on as he had been going for
the present。 He would try not to see her as frequently。 If the
strain became unbearable he might go away somewherefor a time。
He did not go away； but he made it a point not to see her as
frequently。 However； they met often even as it was。 And he was
conscious always that the ice beneath his feet was very； very thin。
One wonderful August evening he was in his room upstairs。 He was
not writing。 He had come up there early because he wished to think；
to consider。 A proposition had been made to him that afternoon； a
surprising propositionto him it had come as a complete surprise
and before mentioning it even to his grandparents he wished to
think it over very carefully。
About ten o'clock his grandfather called to him from the foot of
the stairs and asked him to come down。
〃Mr。 Kendall's on the phone；〃 said Captain Zelotes。 〃He's worried
about Helen。 She's up to West Harniss sittin' up along of Lurany
Howes； who's been sick so long。 She ain't come home； and the old
gentleman's frettin' about her walkin' down from there alone so
late。 I told him I cal'lated you'd just as soon harness Jess and
drive up and get her。 You talk with him yourself； Al。〃
Albert did and； after assuring the nervous clergyman that he would
see that his daughter reached home safely； put on his hat and went
out to the barn。 Jessamine was asleep in her stall。 As he was
about to lead her out he suddenly remembered that one of the traces
had broken that morning and Captain Zelotes had left it at the
harness…maker's to be mended。 It was there yet。 The captain had
forgotten the fact； and so had he。 That settled the idea of using
Jessamine and the buggy。 Never mind； it was a beautiful night and
the walk was but little over a mile。
When he reached the tiny story…and…a…half Howes cottage； sitting
back from the road upon the knoll amid the tangle of silverleaf
sprouts； it was Helen herself who opened the door。 She was
surprised to see him； and when he explained his errand she was a
little vexed。
〃The idea of Father's worrying；〃 she said。 〃Such a wonderful night
as this； bright moonlight； and in South Harniss； too。 Nothing ever
happens to people in South Harniss。 I will be ready in a minute or
two。 Mrs。 Howes' niece is here now and will stay with her until
to…morrow。 Then her sister is coming to stay a month。 As soon as
I get her medicine ready we can go。〃
The door of the tiny bedroom adjoining the sitting room was open；
and Albert； sitting upon the lounge with the faded likeness of a
pink dog printed on the plush cover； could hear the querulous voice
of the invalid within。 The widow Howes was deaf and； as Laban
Keeler described it； 〃always hollered loud enough to make herself
hear〃 when she spoke。 Helen was moving quietly about the sick room
and speaking in a low tone。 Albert could not hear what she said；
but he could hear Lurania。
〃You're a wonder； that's what you be；〃 declared the latter； 〃and I
told your pa so last time he was here。 'She's a saint；' says I；
'if ever there was one on this earth。 She's the nicest； smartest；
best…lookin' girl in THIS town and 。 。 。' eh？〃
There had been a murmur； presumably of remonstrance； from Helen。
〃Eh？〃
Another murmur。
〃EH？ WHO'D you say was there？〃
A third murmur。
〃WHO？ 。 。 。 Oh； that Speranzy one？ Lote Snow's grandson？ The one
they used to call the Portygee？ 。 。 。 Eh？ Well； all right； I
don't care if he did hear me。 If he don't know you're nice and
smart and good…lookin'； it's high time he did。〃
Helen； a trifle embarrassed but laughing； emerged a moment later；
and when she had put on her hat she and Albert left the Howes
cottage and began their walk home。 It