imagination; but it would have been cruel to leave them at home, so after
tea, having tasted every one of Miss Deborah's dishes, he begged them to
come with him to see Dr. Howe. They were glad to go anywhere if only with
him, and each took an arm, and bore him triumphantly to the rectory.

"Bless my soul," said Dr. Howe, looking at them over his glasses, as they
came into the library, "it is good to see you again, young man! How did
you leave Helen?" He pushed his chair back from the fire, and let his
newspapers rustle to the floor, as he rose. Max came and sniffed about
Gifford's knees, and wagged his tail, hoping to be petted. Lois was the
only one whose greeting was constrained, and Gifford's gladness withered
under the indifference in her eyes.

"She doesn't care," he thought while he was answering Dr. Howe, and
rubbing Max's ears with his left hand. "Helen may be right about
Forsythe, but she doesn't care for me, either."

"Sit here, dear Giff," said Miss Ruth, motioning him to a chair at her
side.

"There's a draught there, dear Ruth," cried Miss Deborah anxiously. "Come
nearer the fire, Gifford." But Gifford only smiled good-naturedly, and
leaned his elbow on the mantel, grasping his coat collar with one hand,
and listening to Dr. Howe's questions about his niece.

"She's very well," he answered, "and the happiest woman I ever saw. Those
two people were made for each other, doctor."

"Well, now, see here, young man," said the rector, who could not help
patronizing Gifford, "you'll disturb that happiness if you get into