"That's too bad! Abel is a mean, conceited little upstart, who don't treat me half decent, though he would more than once have gone without a meal but for the help I gave his mother." "Has Mrs. Lane refused to loan you money to rebuild your shop?" "Yes; she won't think of it. She says I must have been careless, or the fire wouldn't have happened. It hasn't done much good to come to Portville. The only pleasure I've got out of it is meeting you." "Thank you, Mr. Crane. I wish your sister were more like you." "I'm a rough man, Gerald. There ain't much polish about me, but nobody can charge me with being mean and ungrateful. Some time I hope you'll come and see me." "Thank you, Mr. Crane. It may come about some day. Is there no one in your town who will lend you money to rebuild your shop?" "No; there ain't much money in Hillsdale. It's just a common country town, and the people are mostly farmers. I don't know what to do." And a look of sadness overspread his rugged countenance. "You are no worse off than I am, Mr. Crane. I have lost an indulgent father, and am left dependent upon a woman I cannot like or respect." "It does seem hard." "But I have faith that some time things will come out for the best." Gerald spoke gravely and calmly. He had been brought up to trust in God, and to have faith in His goodness. His words, young as he was, seemed to have a cheering effect on Mr. Crane. "You're right, Gerald," he said, "and I'll try to believe things are comin' out right, though I can't see how." "Why did you leave the house so soon, Mr. Crane? I thought you would have a long conversation with your sister and Abel." "I thought so, too, but Melindy didn't seem to hanker much after my company. About fifteen minutes after you went out, she said: 'I shall have to leave you, as I have an errand in the village. Perhaps Abel will stay with you?'" "'No, I can't,' said Abel. 'I'm going to play ball with some of the boys.'" Gerald smiled. "None of the boys have invited Abel to play ball. They don't like him." "Well, it don't make no difference. He wouldn't have been any company to me. It's strange that you seem a good deal nearer to me than my own kin." "I am very glad of that. I wish I were in a position to help you." "Perhaps you will be some day. If there's anything crooked about that will of your pa's, it'll come out right some time. Well, when Melindy and Abel had left me I thought I'd go out and take a walk. I strayed down to the lake and saw you rowing. I made bold to call to you. Would you mind my trying the oars to see if I've forgot how to row?" "Take them and welcome." Mr. Crane took the oars, and, though he was at first awkward, he soon showed that he had not altogether forgotten his old skill. "Well, I can row a little," he said, complacently. "Yes, Mr. Crane, you can row better than Abel. He went out with me a day or two ago, and upset the boat." "Did he tumble out?" asked Mr. Crane, laughing.