Mattie said no more on the question; she was not a good hand at argument. At argument, sword's point to sword's point, possibly Mr. Gray would have beaten most men; his ideas were always in order, and he could pounce upon the right word, reason, or text, in an instant; but Mattie was certain that her father's zeal very often outran his discretion. She shuddered as she pictured Sidney Hinchford a victim to her father's obtrusiveness--her father, oblivious to suffering, and full of belief in the conversion he was attempting. She knew that her father was wrong, and she felt vexed that Sidney had been intruded upon at a time wherein she had not found the courage to face him herself. Things must be altered, and her promise to Sid's father must not become a dead letter. In all the world her heart told her she loved Sidney Hinchford best, and that she could make any sacrifice for his sake; and yet Sidney was not getting better, but worse, and her own father would make her hateful to him. The next evening, Mr. Gray came home later than usual. He had been sent for by his employers, had received their commissions, and then, fraught with his new idea, had started for Chesterfield Terrace, to strike a second moral blow at his new specimen. He came home late, as we have intimated, and began arranging his chimney ornaments, and putting things a little straight, in his usual nervous fashion. "Mattie, I shall have a job with that young man. He has forbidden me the house; he actually--actually swore at me this evening, for praying for his better heart and moral regeneration." Mattie compressed her lips, and looked thoughtfully before her for a while. Then the dark eyes turned suddenly and unflinchingly upon her father. "I have been thinking lately that if I were with him in that house--I, who know him so well--I might do much good." "You, Mattie!--you?" "He is without a friend in the world. I knew his father, who was my first friend, and I feel that I am neglecting the son." "You call there often enough, goodness knows!" Mr. Gray said, a little sharply. "He is alone--he is blind. What are a few minutes in a long day to him?" "All this is very ridiculous, Mattie--speaks well for your kind heart, and so on, but, of course, can't be----" "Of course, must be!"