"Come and see, come and see," Mr. Withers pressed him warmly. "A ripe farewell should always hold the seeds of a future meeting." "That is very kindly said," Thane responded quickly; "and if you don't mind, I will plant one of those seeds right now." "So do, so do," the old gentleman urged unsuspiciously. "Your niece"--Thane began, but could see his way no further in that direction without too much precipitancy. Then he backed down on a line of argument,--"I need not point out the fact," etc.,--and abandoned that as beset with too many pitfalls of logic, for one of his limited powers of analysis. Fewest words and simplest would serve him best. "It is hardly likely," then he said, "that your niece's present state of feeling will be respected as long as it lasts; there will be others with feelings of their own. Her loss will hardly protect her all her life from--she will have suitors, of course! Nature is a brute, and most men, young men, are natural in that respect,--in regard to women, I mean. I don't want to be the first fool who rushes in, but there will be a first. When he arrives, sir, will you let me know? If any man is to be heard, I claim the right to speak to her myself; the right, you understand, of one who loves her, who will make any sacrifice on earth to win her." Mr. Withers remained silent. He had a sense of suffocation, as of waves of heat and darkness going over him. The wind sang in his ears, shouted and hooted at him. He was stunned. Presently he gasped, "Mr. Thane! you have not surely profaned this solemn journey with such thoughts as these?" "A man cannot always help his thoughts, Mr. Withers. I have not profaned my thoughts by putting them into words, till now. I cannot do them justice, but I have made them plain. This is not a question of taste or propriety with me, or even decency. It is my life,--all of it I shall ever place at the disposal of any woman. I am not a boy; I know what I want and how much I want it. The secret of success is to be in the right place at the right time: here is where I ask your help." "I do not question that you know what you want," said Mr. Withers mildly,--"it is quite a characteristic of the men of this region, I infer,--nor do I deny that you may know the way of success in getting it; but that I should open the door to you--be your--I might say accomplice, in this design upon the affections of my niece--why, I don't know how it strikes you, but"--