"Now, you are mocking me. Ah, come in, my dear." Mrs. Elbridge had returned. "Yes, we will go to hear Bradley preach. And I warrant I can remember more of the sermon than you." "Mr. Bradley is here now," said Mrs. Elbridge. "Ah, is he? Did you tell him I would be in pretty soon?" "He has come to see Agnes, I think. He asked for her." "Ah, the sly dog. Well, he couldn’t ask for a better girl. Are you going, Howard?" "Yes, sir, to take a walk with Florence, if she cares to go." The Judge frowned, but his wife did not notice it. Howard did, however, and was sorry that he spoke of his intention, but he had no opportunity to apologize, if indeed he felt an inclination to do so. It was a sorrow to feel that his father was set against him, but to know that he was trying to influence the girl was more than a sorrow—it was a grief hardened with anger. He found Florence and they went out together, walking southward. "How soft the air is," she said. "Nature is breathing low." They walked on in silence beneath the cottonwoods and elms. Laughter, the buzz of talk and tunes softly hummed came from door-steps and porticos where families and visitors were gathered, to the disgust of Astors and flunkies from over the sea. "Florence," said Howard, "before I came home this evening I was determined to move out of that old building down town, and to get an office in a modern building. But now I have decided upon something else." "To remain there out of respect for your father and his memories?" "No. To get away from this town—out West, to build a home for you. I hope you don’t object." "Object. I am pleased. I think it is the very wisest thing you could do. And as soon as you are ready for me, I will go." He took her hand and held it till, passing under a lamp, near a group of persons on a flight of steps, he gently let it fall. "Yes, it is the wisest thing I can do. The law is altogether different from what it was when father was in his prime—the practice of it, I mean—and I don’t believe I could ever build up here. Oh, I might. The fact is, I don’t want to practice here. I am disheartened. The idea of a man, at his age, turning against—do you know what he holds against me, Florence?" "Howard, you must not ask me." "Must not ask you? Then you know." "Please don’t ask me." They were in the light, amid laughter and the humming of tunes, and he waited till they reached a place where there was no one to hear, and then he said: "If you know and love me, it would be unnatural not to tell me." "Howard, Peter may have denied his Lord, martyrs may have denied their religion, but you can’t deny my love." "No, I can’t; but how can you keep from me a secret that concerns me so vitally? Do you suppose I could hold back anything from you?" "Not if your mother were dead and you had taken an oath upon her memory?" "Not if God were dead and I had sworn—" "Howard, you must not talk that way."