March 13. Last night, at the Philomathean, Mr. Blodgett joined me, and asked me why I had not dined with them lately. He returned only a few days ago, and was thus ignorant that I have not been inside his door for weeks. I hesitated for an instant, and then replied, "I have been working very hard."

"What are you usually doing?" he asked, smiling. "Come in to Sunday dinner to-morrow."

"I shall be too busy with a lot of manuscripts I have on hand, that must be read," I told him.

"Stop killing yourself," he ordered. "As it is, you look as if you were on the brink of a bad illness. You won't get on a bit faster by dying young."

There the matter rested, and I did not go to dinner to-day, being indeed glad to stay indoors; for I very foolishly walked up town yesterday through the slush, and caught a bad cold. While I was trying to keep warm, this evening, a note was brought me from Mr. Blodgett, asking me to come to him at once; and fearing something important, I braved the cold without delay, ill though I felt. I was shown at once into his den, which was so cheerful with its open fire that I felt it was a good exchange for my cold room, where I had sat coughing and shivering all the afternoon.

"Twice in my life I've really lost my temper with the boss," he began, before I had even sat down, though he closed the door while speaking. "Never mind about the first time, but to-day I got mad enough to last me for the rest of my life."

"May I sit down?" I interrupted.

He nodded his head, and took a position in front of me, with his back to the fire, as he continued: "Women are enough to make a man frantic when they get a fixed idea! Now, to-day, at dinner, I said I'd invited you, and I saw in a moment something was in the wind; so when we had finished I told them to come in here, and it didn't take me long to find out the trouble."

"I didn't like to"—I began; but he went on:—

"And that was the beginning of their trouble. I tell you, there was Cain here for about ten minutes, and there weren't two worse scared women this side of the grave, while I was ranting; for the boss remembered the other time, and Agnes had never seen me break loose. I told them they'd done their best to drive you crazy with grief; that if they'd searched for ten years they couldn't have found a meaner or crueler thing, or one that would have hurt you more; that nine men out of ten, in your shoes, would have acted dishonestly or cut their throat, but that you had toed the chalk-line right along, and never once winced. And I let them know that for five dollars they'd added the last straw of pain to a fellow who deserved only kindness and help from them."

"Really, Mr. Blodgett"—I protested.

"Hold on. Don't attempt to stop me, for the fit's on me still," he growled. "They tried to come the surprised, and then the offended, but they didn't fool me. I never let up on them till I had said all I wanted to say, and they won't forget it for a day or two. When I sent Agnes upstairs, she was sobbing her eyes out, and the boss would have given her pin money for ten years to have escaped with her."

"It's too bad to"—

"That's just what it was!" he cried. "To think of those screws trying to blackmail you, and then telling me you were a skinflint because you wouldn't do what they wanted! Well, after Agnes had gone, I gave the boss a supplementary and special dose of her own. I told her she could double discount you on meanness, and then give you forty-nine points; and to make sure of good measurement, I added in the whole female sex along with her. I told her that if she knew the facts of your life, she'd get down on her knees and crawl round to your place to ask your pardon, and then she wouldn't be fit to have it. I told her that when the day of judgment came, she'd just go the other way in preference to hearing what the recording angel had written of her."

"I am afraid that your intended kindness will make my welcome scantier than ever."

"Not a bit of it. I'm the master of this house, as they found out this afternoon, and I say who'll come into it, and who'll not. I shan't need to interfere in your case, for you'll get a warm welcome from both."

"You didn't tell them?" I exclaimed, starting forward in my seat.

"Not a word, though the boss nearly went crazy with curiosity. But I did say that you were making a splendid up-hill fight, and if they knew the facts of the case they'd be proud to black your boots. My word goes in this family about as well as it does on the Street, and you'll get all the welcome you can stand from now on."

"You make me very proud and happy."

"You have reason to be proud," he asserted. "I'm not a man who slobbers much, but I'm going to tell you what I think of you. When you first came here, I sized you up as rather a softy, your manner was so quiet and gentle. I got over that delusion precious quick, and I want to say that for pluck and grit you're a trump, and there's my hand on it."

He went to the table, poured out a couple of glasses of whiskey and seltzer, and brought them to the fire. "You need something for that graveyard cough of yours," he said, handing one to me. "Well," he went on, "I didn't bring you out such a night as this to tell you of my scrap; but after the row, the boss was so ashamed of herself that she trumped up an A 1 excuse (as she thought) for having treated you as she had, and that led to a talk, and that's why I sent round for you. What do you suppose she has got into her head?"

"I can't imagine."

"I needn't tell you," he remarked, "that women always know an awful lot that isn't so. But just because they do, they every now and then discover a truth that can't be come at in any other way. Now the boss thinks she's done this, and I'm not sure that she hasn't. She says you are in love."

"I never knew a man who wasn't," I replied, trying to smile. "If it isn't with a woman, then it's always with himself."

"But the boss thinks she knows the girl, and has a down on you because you—because you don't try for her."

I laughed bitterly, and said, "You needed no explanation for that."

"That's what made the boss's idea reasonable to me," he explained. "She couldn't conceive why you should keep silent, and so was ready to pitch into you on the slightest pretense. Women haven't much use for a man who falls in love and doesn't say so. But of course I knew that your debt put marriage out of the question."

I merely nodded my head, for even to him I could not speak of my love for you, it was so sacred to me.

He drew up a chair to the fire, and continued: "There isn't another man to whom I'd care to say what I'm going to say to you, but you've got a heart and a head both, and won't misunderstand me." He finished his glass, and set it on the mantel. "Now I don't have to tell you that the boss is fond of you, and when I told her that I knew of a reason why you couldn't marry, she forgave you on the spot. What's more, she first wished to learn what it was; and failing in that, she then wanted to know if it could be remedied, so that you might have a chance to win the girl."

"She of course knows nothing of my position?"

"No," he said, "but she knows something of your character, and she's ordered me that, if it's possible, I'm to help you get the girl you care for."

"But my debt!" I exclaimed.

"How much is it now?" he queried.

"One hundred and eighteen thousand."

"Well, I'll lend Agnes's husband one hundred and eighteen thousand dollars at three per cent, and leave her the note when I die. From what I know of marriage, I venture to assert that if she squeezes him for payment it will be his own fault."

I sat speechless for a moment, too bewildered by the unexpected turn to even think.

"I was as surprised as you look," he went on, "for although I had seen that you and Agnes"—

"Indeed, Mr. Blodgett," I exclaimed hastily, "I am no more to Miss Agnes than a dozen of her friends! I"—

"So the boss says," he interrupted. "But that doesn't mean that you can't be. Though to speak the truth, my boy," he continued, resting his hand on my knee, "this wasn't my plan. I had hoped that you and Maizie would take a shine to each other, and so kiss the chalk-marks off that old score. But when I spoke of the scheme to the boss, this evening, she told me there had never been a chance of it; that you didn't like Mai, and that she is practically engaged to Whitely, and is only—Better have some more whiskey, or that cough will shake you to pieces."

I could only shake my head in my misery, but after a moment I was able to say, "Mr. Blodgett, I did not understand—I"—

"I want to tell you," he broke in, "before you say anything more, that I never believe in putting one's fingers into love affairs, and I shouldn't in this case if the boss didn't feel so keen about it, but I don't choose to be the one to stand in her way. And now I'm not offering my daughter's hand. You know as well as I that Agnes isn't the kind of girl who needs a prospectus or a gold clause to work her off. If she dropped her handkerchief to-morrow, fifty men would be scrambling for it, eh?"

"Yes." Then I added, "And, Mr. Blodgett, I can't find the words to tell how I thank you both for such a compliment. If"—

"I knew you wouldn't misunderstand me," he went on. "It's a good deal of a start in life to be born a gentleman."

"But, Mr. Blodgett," I said, "there has been a mistake. I—it is hard to say, but"—then I faltered.

He looked at me keenly for a moment. "So the boss was wrong? It's only friendship, not love?"

"Just what she has given to me," I answered.

"Very well. Then if you want to please the boss—and me—let that friendship grow into something better. But don't misunderstand me. You must win Agnes, if she is won. We do nothing."

"Mr. Blodgett, should you be willing to let me try to win Miss Agnes, if I tell you that I do not love her as a man should love the woman he seeks for his wife?"

"Marriage is a funny business," he responded. "Now there's the boss. When I married her I thought she was so and so; little by little I found she wasn't; but by the time I had found it out I wouldn't have swapped her for ten of the women I had thought she was. Some men have no business to marry unless they're pretty strongly attached, for they don't run steady; but you're a fellow that would keep in the traces no matter what happened, and before long you'd find yourself mighty fond of Agnes. A sense of duty is about as good a basis to marry on, if there's natural sympathy and liking, as all this ideal make-believe. I don't think you dislike Agnes, do you?"

"Indeed, no!" I exclaimed. "Nobody could. She is too charming and sweet for any one to do that. Miss Agnes deserves far more than I can bring her. What have I to give in return for all this?"

"You can settle that with Agnes," he laughed; and then, as if to lessen my poverty in my own eyes, he kindly added, "In the first place, I'll get a son-in-law chock-full of heart and grit and brains; and I've had pretty good evidence that he isn't fortune-hunting, which is Agnes's great danger. But that isn't all, and I want you to know I'm not a fool. I'm a big fellow down in Wall Street, and even on the Royal Exchange, but do you think I don't know my position? They kept me up over two years at the Philomathean, and you four months. After you've worked ten years over books with your own name on them, you'll be received and kotowed to by people who wouldn't crook a finger to know me. You won't be famous as I am, for the number of naughts I can write after a figure, but your name will be known everywhere, and will be familiar long after mine has been forgotten. Who were the bankers and rich men fifty years ago? There isn't one person in a thousand can tell you. But who hasn't heard of Thackeray and Hawthorne, Macaulay and Motley? My girl will have more money than she'll need; so if she gets a good husband, and one with reputation, she can't do better. Don't you see I'm doing my level best for Agnes, and making a regular Jew bargain?"

"Perhaps Miss Agnes will not agree."

"We've got to take that chance; but she likes you, and good women think a heap more of brains than they do of money. If you'll let me tell her your story, it won't be long before she'll take notice. I shouldn't have had to ask the boss twice if I'd had any such trump card as you've got, and she was a sight less tender-hearted than Agnes!"

"Mr. Blodgett," I said, "I can't tell you the gratitude I feel, but I must be frank."

"Hold on!" he cried. "I don't want you to say anything now. You are to take a week on it, and not give me your answer till the end. If you have half the gratitude in you that you pretend, you'll do as the boss wants."

I had manned myself to tell him of my love for you, but I bowed assent, for indeed, I was too bewildered to think clearly, and was glad to have a respite. We shook hands without further parley, and I came back here, to cough and shiver while trying to think it all out. An hour ago I went to bed, but I was wakeful, and so sit here trying to write myself into sleepiness.

I have thought out what my course must be. If it is true, as indeed I know it to be, that Mr. Whitely has won you, Mr. Blodgett shall have the truth. I shall tell him that I will put you out of my heart, as perforce I must, and that if he is still willing I will go to Agnes, tell her too the whole truth, and promise her such love and devotion as I can give. So sweet a girl deserves far more, and I cannot believe that she will accept the little I can offer; but if she does, it shall be the labor of my life to be to her a true and tender husband. And even if she were not what she is, the thought that through her I have made reparation for the wrong done you will make easy both tenderness and love for her.

For the last time, perhaps, I have the right to say, "Good-night, my love."