Aside from such interests, the ex-steward was a member of that "forum" that gathered summer and winter around the stove in the Shell Road store. He had been wont to join this group at Cap'n Abe's every week day evening save prayer-meeting night. But as his pique against Christmas and its activities grew, even the salt savor of the company at the store became tasteless. Of late conversation when he was present was apt to turn, he found, upon the coming holiday season. The winks and smiles, the innuendoes, 'Liphalet considered, were all aimed at him. There seemed to be an itch in the public mind to learn just what he, Life Truitt, was going to buy to hang on the Chapel Christmas tree! He had never chanced to notice it before this season, perhaps because he had never been in so critical a mood; but all his neighbors seemed to be slyly watching him, and with smiles, as though endeavoring by insinuation and hypocrisy to recall themselves to his attention. Nothing but his deep interest in Cap'n Jonah Hand's trouble would have taken him to the store on this recent evening, the events of which were last related. And he was almost sorry he had done so. Cap'n Jonah had managed to roil his feelings as deeply as anybody in speaking as he had of Miss Sue. She was a great catch; 'Liphalet had lived ten years shaking in his shoes, if the truth were known, for fear that some braver soul than he would ask her for her hand. She was at the bottom of all 'Liphalet's trouble--she and her fortune. Every time he saw her, every time her name was mentioned, the barb was sharpened in his soul. Jonah Hand might be brave enough to attempt to marry Miss Sue and her money! But Life Truitt could not walk up to the doctor's sister and ask her if she would have him. Here was the swift stab of jealousy! But he did pluck up courage the evening after meeting Sue at the post-office to stuff his flute into his pocket and tramp over to the Ambrose cottage. He had not sought music and Sue's companionship to soothe his soul for a long time. There she was--he saw her through the parted curtains of the parlor window--sitting at the melodeon, coaxing the harmonies from the yellowed keys. He stood near, with the first flakes of a snow squall falling upon him, watching the graceful figure that was as harmonious in its surroundings as were the notes pumped from the instrument. But after all, 'Liphalet could not enter. A call in his present mood he felt would be a profanation. Besides, there came into his sick mind again the thought of how Sue, too, had sought to draw at his purse strings on this very day for the Christmas entertainment. The devil of distrust said in his ear: "She's like the rest of 'em! She's like the rest of 'em!" So he turned back. Sad indeed was the case of the once cheerful man turned misanthrope. As he stubbed homeward through the crackling snowflakes somebody he met on the road hailed him gayly: "Been to town to do your Christmas shopping, Life?"