Mildred felt that she could not restrain her tears much longer, and she was glad when Lilian at last came in, thus affording her a good excuse for stealing away. She did not hear what passed between the two, but when Lilian came down to breakfast she said, “Lawrence had suggested their going home,” and as nothing could please her more, they would start the next day if he were able. “I’ll bet he won’t go before he gets a piece of my mind,” thought the Judge, as he watched for a favorable opportunity, but Lilian was always in the way, and when long after dinner he went to Lawrence’s room, he found that he had gone down to visit Oliver, who was still confined to his bed and seemed to be utterly exhausted. Lawrence had not expected to see him so pale and sick, and at first he could only press his hands in silence. “It was very kind in you, Clubs,” he said at last, “to save my life at the risk of your own.” “You are mistaken,” returned Oliver; “it was for Mildred I risked my life, far more than for you.” “For Mildred, Clubs,—for Mildred!” and all over Lawrence Thornton’s handsome face there broke a look of perplexity and delight, for Oliver’s words implied a something to believe which would be happiness indeed. “I can’t tell you now,” said Oliver, “I am too faint and weak. Come to me before you go and I will explain; but first, Lawrence Thornton, answer me truly, as you hope for heaven, do you love Mildred Howell?” “Love Mildred Howell,—love Mildred Howell!” Lawrence repeated, in amazement. “Yes, Clubs, as I hope for heaven, I love her better than my life, but she isn’t for me, she loves somebody else,” and he hurried down the stairs, never dreaming that the other was himself, for had it been, she would not have deserted him the previous day, when he was so near to death. “No, Oliver is deceived,” he said, and he walked slowly back to Beechwood, thinking how bright the future would look to him could he but possess sweet Mildred Howell’s love. “I never receive any help, from Lilian,” he unconsciously said aloud. “She lies like a weight upon my faculties, while Mildred has the most charming way of rubbing up one’s ideas. Mildred is splendid,” and his foot touched the lower step of the back piazza just as the Judge’s voice chimed in: “I’m glad you think so. That’s what I’ve been trying to get at this whole day, so sit down here, Thornton, and we’ll have a confidential chat. The girls are off riding, and there’s no one to disturb us.” Lawrence took the offered seat, and the Judge continued: