letter to go by. Now I have the evidence of my own senses. You may ask
me what I have against him. I tell you--nothing; but I misdoubt him
from my heart. I feel that he is false, that what he was when a boy, he
is now. There is no true ring about him."

The squire was silent for a minute or two. He had a very sincere
friendship and liking for his companion, a thorough confidence in his
judgment and principles. He knew his self-sacrificing nature, and that
he was only speaking from his love for his grandchild.

"Do not let us talk about it now, old friend," he said quietly. "You
and I put, before all other things, Aggie's happiness. Disagreement
between us there can be none on the subject. Give me tonight to think
over what you have said, and we will talk about it again tomorrow."



Chapter 6: A Storm.


After breakfast next morning, the squire asked his friend to go with
him into his study.

"I have been thinking this matter over," he said, "very seriously, and,
upon reflection, I agree with you that it is undesirable that Aggie
should see much of Richard, until she is of an age to form a fair
opinion for herself, and to compare him with other young men. I agree
with you, also, that we have not yet sufficient proofs that he is
completely changed. I hope that he is. You think he is not. At any
rate, he must have a longer trial, and until it is proved to your