"Oh, no, everything's all right." "Letter from her, ain't it?" "Yes. She's in Michigan." "I used to go with a woman from Michigan," said the hired man. "And I thought I'd like to marry her, but I found out she'd been married twice, and I didn't feel like bein' no third choice." "I didn't suppose you'd object to that," Milford replied, folding his letter. "Well, I may be more particular than most fellers, but it sorter stuck in my crop. I guess it's a good plan to let all the women alone. For awhile at least," he added. "The best of 'em don't bring a man nothin' but trouble. What does your girl say in her letter?" "Oh, nothing much. She's teaching." "I guess she's a pretty good sort of a woman. Are you goin' to bring her here?" "Not if I know myself." "Yes, but a feller that keeps on foolin' with a woman gits so after a while he don't know himself. What's your object in not wantin' to bring her here?" "I've got something else to do first. She may not want me after I've told her--the truth." "Then don't do it, Bill. Talk to a woman all you're a mind to, but don't tell her any more truth than you can help. It gives her the upper hand of you." "I don't know, Bob, that I'd be warranted in accepting your theories about woman." "Mebbe not, but I'm the chap that's had the experience." Milford replied in effect that experience does not always make us wise. It sometimes tends to weaken rather than to make us strong. It might make freshness stale; it is a thief that steals enthusiasm; it enjoins caution at the wrong time. He took out his letter and read it again, studying the form of each word. The hired man said that he had received many a letter, had read them over and over, but that did not alter the fact that the writer thereof had proved false to him. "I don't want to pile up trash in no man's path," he said, "but I want to give it out strong that it's a mighty hard matter for a woman to be true even to herself. Look how I've been treated." Milford did not reply. He studied his letter, and the words, "wanted to kneel beside you," gathered a melody, and were sweet music to him. CHAPTER XXII. REMEMBERED HIS OBLIGATION.