A door opened and closed. There was a distant rustling. Henry, paler, sprang to his feet. 'I must be cool,' he thought. 'Think before I speak. Everything depends on my steadiness now.' But the step was not Cicely's. She was slim and light. This was a solid tread. He gripped the little box more tightly. He was meeting with a curious difficulty in breathing. Then, in the doorway, appeared the large person, the hooked nose, the determined mouth, the piercing, hawklike eyes of Madame Watt. 'How d'do, Henry,' she said, in her deep voice. 'Sit down. I want to talk to you. About Cicely. I'm going to tell you frankly--I like you, Henry; I believe you're going to amount to something one of these days--but I had no idea--now I want you to take this in the spirit I say it in--I had no idea things were going along so fast between Cicely and you. I've trusted you. I've let you two play together all you liked. And I won't say I'd stand in the way, a few years from now---- 'A few years!...' 'Now, Henry, I'm not going to have you getting all stirred up. Let's admit that you're fond of Cicely. You are, aren't you? Yes? Well, now we'll try to look at it sensibly. How old are you?' 'I'm twenty, but----' 'When will you be twenty-one?' 'Next month. You see----' 'Now tell me--try to think this out clearly--how on earth could you expect to take care of a girl who's been brought up as Cicely has. Even if she were old enough to know her own mind, which I can't believe she is.' 'Oh, but she does!' 'Fudge, Henry! She couldn't. What experience has she had? Never mind that, though. Tell me, what is your income now. You'll admit I have a right to ask.' 'Twelve a week, but----' 'And what prospects have you? Be practical now! How far do you expect to rise on the _Gleaner!_' 'Not very high, but our circulation----' 'What earthly difference can a little more or less circulation make when it's a country weekly! No, Henry, believe me, I have a great deal of confidence in you--I mean that you'll keep on growing up and forming character--but this sort of thing can not--simply can not--go on now. Why, Henry, you haven't even begun your man's life yet! Very likely you'll write. It may be that you're a genius. But that makes it all the more a problem. Can't you see----' 'Yes, of course, but----' 'No, listen to me! I asked Cicely to-day why you were coming so often. I wasn't at all satisfied with her answers to my questions. And when I forced her to admit that she has been as good as engaged to you----' 'But we _aren't_ engaged! It's only an understanding.' 'Understanding! Pah! Don't excite me, Henry. I want to straighten this out just as pleasantly as I can. I _am_ fond of you, Henry. But I never dreamed---- Tell me, you and that young Weaver own the _Gleaner_, I think.' 'Yes'm we own it. But----' 'Just what does that mean? That you have paid money--actual money--for it?' 'Yes'm. It's cost us about four thousand.' 'Four thousand! Hmm!'