"It was all very well for John and Charlie Martin to be buddies, as
they call it, during the war," she went on. "It was different over
there in France. But now that it is all over and they are home again,
and Captain Martin has gone back to his old work in the Mill where John
has practically become the manager, there is no sense in brother's
keeping up the intimacy. Really I don't wonder that father is worried
almost to death over it all. I suppose the next thing John will be
chumming with this Jake Vodell himself."

"I don't suppose you see much of your old friends the Martins these
days, do you, Helen?" said the old basket maker, reflectively.

She retorted quickly with an air, "Certainly not."

"But I remember, in the old-house days, before you went away to school,
you and Charlie Martin were--"

She interrupted him with "I was a silly child. I suppose every girl at
about that age has to have her foolish little romance."

And the Interpreter saw that her cheeks were crimson.

"A young girl's first love is not in the least silly or foolish, my
dear," he said.

She made an effort to speak lightly. "Well, fortunately, mine did not
last long."

"I know," he returned, "but I thought perhaps because of the friendship
between John and the Captain--"