"Of course you can, and it was neither wrong nor very foolish in you to try. It was only very loyal and very loving. But there was no occasion for you to do anything of the sort." "But how can I help you if I don't try my best to understand the things you are dealing with?" "As I said before," he answered tenderly, "it is very loyal and very loving of you to think in that way, and I thank you for it. But that isn't what I have had in mind when we have talked of your helping me. I have never had a thought of burdening you with my affairs except to ask for your sympathy when things trouble me, and your counsel on all points of right and wrong, and all that. You see, you have two things that I need." "What are they?" "A singularly clear insight into all matters of duty, and a conscience as white as snow. In this matter of Tandy's account, for example, you have helped me more than you imagine. You have seen my duty clearly, where I was in doubt about it, and you have prompted me to the resolute doing of it, regardless of my own feelings, or Tandy's, or of any other consideration whatever. Moreover, it is an immeasurable help to me simply to sit in your presence and feel that you want me to do right always. I think association with you would keep any man in the straight road. I _know_ that your love would do so." "I am very, very glad," the girl answered with misty eyes, "but I must help in practical ways, too--in all ways. So I must do my best to understand all the things that you have to manage." "God bless you!" That was all he said. It seemed to him quite all there was to say. But early the next morning he sent a courteous note to Tandy, calling his attention to the "irregularity" of his relations with the bank, and asking him to call at once to set the matter right. After he had sent off the note he continued his examination of the details of the bank's affairs. He had gone over the books very carefully. He had examined the notes held for collection and the like. It remained only for him to make a personal inspection of the cash and securities held by the bank, and that was his task this morning. He had not gone far with it when he came upon a small three-cornered slip of paper, with a memorandum penciled upon it. It lay in the midst of a bundle of greenbacks. Looking at it carefully, Duncan turned sharply upon the teller who had charge of the currency, and demanded: "What does this mean? Why did you not bring that to my attention sooner?" Before the teller could reply with an excuse or explanation, Tandy was announced as waiting in the bank parlor to see Mr. Duncan. Duncan slipped the scrap of paper into his vest pocket, saying to the teller: "Make a memorandum that I have possession of this." Then he walked into the parlor. There he received Tandy with cold dignity and marked reserve--more of coldness, more of dignity, and far more of reserve than he would have thought necessary if he had not found that scrap of paper.