"I have offended you," she said, taking the boy by the hand. "And I didn't mean it, I'm sure. I hope you don't think that I would say a word against her. We are all fond of her, I'm sure. But we are all interested in you." "In me? Who the--the deuce am I? What cause have you to be interested in me? You are not interested in me, except as a sort of freak--a mud-turtle, caught in the lake, viewed by woman with their 'ahs' and 'ohs,' standing back holding their skirts. I know that woman. She is worth----" "I thought you said you didn't know her till she came out here?" "I said I'd never spoken to her." "Know her but had never spoken to her. The plot curdles. Really, Mr. Milford, what I said was simply to draw you out. I don't know a thing against her; I don't think she's a failure. Now tell me what you know. I am hungry for something of interest; I'm tired to death of this everlasting market report. If she and you have been mixed up in a romance, tell me, please. Bobbie, don't pull at me. I'm going in a moment." "The ripening fruit of a romance," said Milford, putting his hand on the boy's head. "Isn't that enough for you?" "The fruit is a tender care; the bud a careless pleasure," she replied. "Tell me about it--now. I might not see you again." "Then you will soon forget." "Oh, no, I can't forget you. You have had a strong influence on me--for good, I am sure. You have some noble purpose, hidden away, and when we meet one with a noble purpose we feel stronger, though we may not know what that purpose is. I long to do something in the world, too----" "Then love your husband," said the tactless man. "What are you saying? I do love him." "If you love him, you have a noble purpose." "But who are you to talk so morally?" "A man who has seen so much vice that he would like to see virtue. There's my road," he said, pointing to the gate. "I must bid you good-bye." CHAPTER XIX. A WOMAN'S THREAT.