Janet recalled the old fancy now, leaning against the tall poplar which, indeed, was whispering in nervous fashion to the blushing scrub oaks clustering close. Some one was coming up the road from the station. In the far distance the girl heard the panting shriek of the engine of the morning train from the city. Could that shambling, weary figure approaching be Mark? Why, he looked older than Pa Tapkins! Janet waited until he was abreast of her. His hands were plunged in his pockets, his shabby valise slung over his shoulder, and his head was bowed upon his chest. "Mark!" she cried cheerily, "you look just worn out." The man raised his dull face and an awakening of interest and hope lit it. "Mornin', Janet," he replied and came to the tree. "Davy managed pretty good? I was kept longer than any reason. I hope Davy ain't petered out." "No. I helped some. Did you get Maud Grace's young man, Mark?" The amusement in the laughing voice made Mark shiver. All the pleasure dropped from his face like a mask. "I found where he was, all right, but I got there a day too late, he was off fur--fur--" "For where?" "There was no findin' out. He's jest clear gone an' vanished." "Well, I'm glad of it! I think Maud Grace ought to be ashamed of herself to want him when he did not want her. I'm out and out thankful she cannot have her way." The effect of this speech upon Mark was stupendous. His jaw dropped and a slow fire seemed to gleam in his pale eyes. Part of his nature rose in gladness because the girl could speak in that fashion. She had no knowledge within her to cause her to falter or stand abashed. But the tired man, in the poor fellow, cried out to this strong, brave creature to aid him understandingly where his own knowledge and slowness of nature made him a coward. And so they stood looking in each other's eyes. "I don't see why, Mark, you should try to help Maud. She's silly and has acted like an idiot with every man boarder her mother has had. She's turned her back upon you. This, maybe, will teach her a lesson." "Like as not it will!" Mark's words came with almost a groan. "Like as not it will!" What strength was in him conquered. This girl, so detached from him, must keep her childish faith. Whatever was to be borne and suffered, he, in his bungling fashion, must bear it and suffer alone. He knew the Quintonites, poor fellow! He knew there was work for him to do, but he would do it alone! "Whar you goin', Janet?" Mark took up his burden of duty with a sigh. He was awake to life and its meaning at last, and the reality steadied him. "On an errand." "Whar?" "That's telling!" The girl laughed mockingly. "And, Mark, as soon as you can, go up to the Light. I'll soon be back, Davy and I are going on a pirate hunt this afternoon." "A what kind of a hunt?" "Pirate. It's going to be great fun. Davy needs a change."