came over and laid a kindly hand on Garrison's shoulder.

And Garrison had been silent. He was in a mental and moral fog. He
guessed that his supposed father had not been all that a man should be.
The eminent lawyer, Mr. Snark, had said as much. He knew himself that he
was nothing that a man should be. His conscience was fully awakened by
now. Every worthy ounce of blood he possessed cried out for him to go;
to leave Calvert House before it was too late; before the old major and
his wife grew to love him as there seemed danger of them doing.

He was commencing to see his deception in its true light; the crime he
was daily, hourly, committing against his host and hostess; against all
decency. He had no longer a prop to support him with specious argument,
for the eminent lawyer had returned to New York, carrying with him
his initial proceeds of the rank fraud--Major Calvert's check for ten
thousand dollars.

Garrison was face to face with himself; he was beginning to see his
dishonesty in all its hideous nakedness. And yet he stayed at Calvert
House; stayed on the crater of a volcano, fearing every stranger who
passed, fearing to meet every neighbor; fearing that his deception must
become known, though reason told him such fear was absurd. He stayed
at Calvert House, braving the abhorrence of his better self; stayed not
through any appreciation of the Calvert flesh-pots, nor because of any
monetary benefits, present or future. He lived in the present, for the
hour, oblivious to everything.

For Garrison had fallen in love with his next-door neighbor, Sue Desha.
Though he did not know his past life, it was the first time he had
understood to the full the meaning of the ubiquitous, potential verb "to