The widow tapped her knuckles on the glass of a near-by window. “Supper!” she announced. “Hurry in whilst it's hot!” “I always do my best pondering on a full stomach,” said Captain Candage. “And I smell cream-o'-tartar biskits and I saw her hulling field strorb'ries. Better look on the bright side of things along with me, Captain Mayo.” Captain Mayo failed to find any bright side as he turned his affairs over in his mind. He had only a meager stock of money. He had used his modest earnings in settling the debts of the family estate. The outlook for employment was vague--he could not estimate to what extent the hostility of Julius Marston might block his efforts, provided the magnate troubled himself to descend to meddle with the affairs of such an inconspicuous person. His poor little romance with Alma Marston had been left in a shocking condition. He did not talk at the supper-table, and the widow's wholesome food was like ashes in his mouth. He went out and sat on the porch of the widow's cottage and looked into the sunset and saw nothing in its rosy hues to give him encouragement for his own future. Polly Candage came timidly and sat down beside him. “Father says you think of leaving in the morning!” “There's nothing for me here.” “Probably not.” A long silence followed. “I suppose you don't care to have me talk to you, Captain Mayo?” “I'll listen to you gratefully, any time.” “I'm only a country girl. I don't know how to say it--how to tell you I'm so sorry for you!” “That one little pat on my hand to-day, it was better than words.” “It's all I can think about--your unhappiness.” “That touches me because I know that you have enough sorrow of your own.” “Sorrow!” She opened her eyes wide. “Perhaps I have no business speaking of it,” he returned, with considerable embarrassment. “And yet I have been so bold as to speak to you!” There was a touch of reproach in her voice, and therefore he ventured: “Your father told me--I tried to stop him, but he went on and said--Well, I understand! But I have some consolation for you and I'm going to speak out. He says he is going to allow you to marry your young man.” “Did he dare to talk such matters over with you?” “He insisted on doing it--on asking my advice. So I advised in a way to help you. I am glad, for your sake, that he is coming to his senses.” “I thank you for your help,” she said, stiffly. “Of course it's none of my business. I'm sorry he told me. But I wish you all happiness.” She rose as if to go away. Then she stamped her foot and sat down. “My father ought to be muzzled!” She realized that he might misinterpret her indignation, for he said: “I'm ashamed because I meddled in your affairs. But from what you saw to-day in my case, I felt that I ought to help others who are in the same trouble.”