Now, as she looked at him, pale, haggard and leaning on his cane, stooping a little when he had been so erect and sturdy, the pity which she had felt for him ever since they brought him into her sitting-room on the day of the railway accident became keener than ever and with it came an additional flash of insight. She realized more clearly than she had before that it was not his bodily injuries which hurt most and were the hardest to bear; it was his self-respect and the pride which were wounded sorest. That he--_he_--Sears Kendrick, the independent autocrat of the quarter deck, should be reduced to this! That it was wringing his soul she knew. He had never complained except to her, and even to her very, very seldom, but she knew. And she ventured to ask the question she had wanted to ask ever since he had sufficiently recovered to listen to conversation. "Sears," she said "I haven't said a word before, and you needn't tell me now if you don't want to--it isn't any of my business--but is it true that you've lost a whole lot of money? It isn't true, is it?" He had been standing by the open door, looking out into the yard. Now he turned to look at her. "What isn't true, Sarah?" he asked. "That you've lost a lot of money in--in that--that business you went into. It isn't true, is it, Sears? Oh, I hope it isn't! They say--why, some of 'em say you've lost all the money you had put by. An awful sight of money, they say. Sears, tell me it isn't true--please." He regarded her in silence for a moment. Then he shook his head. "Part of it isn't true, Sarah," he answered, with a slight smile. "I haven't lost a big lot of money." "Oh, I'm _so_ glad. Now I can tell 'em a few things, I guess." "I wouldn't tell 'em too much, because the other part _is_ true. I have lost about all I had put by." "Oh, Sears!" "Um--hm. And served me right, of course. You can't make a silk ear out of a sow's purse, as old Cap'n Sam Doane used to love to say. You can't, no matter how good a purse--or--ear--it is. I was a pretty good sea cap'n if I do say it, but that wasn't any reason why I should have figured I was a good enough business man to back as slippery an eel as Jim Carpenter in the ship chandlery game ashore." "But--you----" Mrs. Macomber hesitated to utter the disgraceful word, "you didn't fail up, did you, Sears?" she faltered. "You know that's what they say you did." "Well, they say wrong. Carpenter failed, I didn't. I paid dollar for dollar. That's why I've got next to no dollars now." "But you--you've got _some_, Sears. You must have," hopefully, "because you've been paying me board. So you must have _some_ left." The triumph in her face was pathetic. He hated to disturb her faith.