Hinton, upon whom no phase of the situation had been lost, came valiantly to Mr. Opp's rescue. He roused himself to follow his host's lead in the conversation; he was apparently oblivious to the many irregularities of the dinner. In fact, it was one of the rare occasions upon which Hinton took the trouble to exert himself. Something in the dreary old room, with its brave attempt at cheer, in the half-witted little lady who was making such superhuman efforts to be good, and above all in the bombastic, egotistical, ignorant editor who was trying to keep up appearances against such heavy odds, touched the best and deepest that was in Hinton, and lifted him out of himself. Gradually he began to take the lead in the conversation. With great tact he relieved Mr. Opp of the necessity of entertaining, and gave him a chance to eat his dinner. He told stories so simple that even Miss Kippy loosened her hold on her brother's hand to listen. When the sunset of the dinner in the form of a pumpkin pie had disappeared, the gentlemen retired to the fire. "Don't you smoke?" asked Hinton, holding a match to his pipe. "Why, yes," said Mr. Opp, "I have smoked occasional. It's amazing how it assists you in creating newspaper articles. One of the greatest editorials I ever turned out was when I had a cigar in my mouth." "Then why don't you smoke?" Mr. Opp glanced over his shoulders at Aunt Tish, who, with Miss Kippy's doubtful assistance, was clearing the table. "I don't mind telling you," he said confidentially, "that up to the present time I've experienced a good many business reverses and considerable family responsibility. I hope now in a year or two to be able to indulge them little extra items. The lack of money," he added somewhat proudly, "is no disgrace; but I can't deny it's what you might call limiting." Hinton smiled. "I think I've got a cigar somewhere about me. Here it is. Will you try it?" Mr. Opp didn't care if he did, and from the manner in which he lighted it, and from the way in which he stood, with one elbow on the high mantel-shelf and his feet gracefully crossed, while he blew curling wreaths toward the ceiling, it was not difficult to reckon the extent of his self-denial. "Do you indulge much in the pleasure of reading?" he asked, looking at Hinton through the cloud of smoke. "I did," said Hinton, drawing a deep breath. "It's a great pastime," said Mr. Opp. "I wonder if you are familiar with this here volume." He took from the shelf "The Encyclopedia of Wonder, Beauty, and Wisdom." "Hardly a thumb-nail edition," said Hinton, receiving it with both hands. "Say, it's a remarkable work," said Mr. Opp, earnestly; "you ought to get yourself one. Facts in the first part, and the prettiest poetry you ever read in the back: a dollar down and fifty cents a month until paid for. Here, let me show you; read that one." "I can't see it," said Hinton. "I'll get the lamp." "Never mind, Opp; it isn't that. You read it to me."