She was very angry, and Paul was angry, too, and answered hotly that Elithe would be invited, as he should do it himself. It was their first real quarrel, and they kept it up until they reached the Percy cottage, where Clarice, alarmed at Paul’s quiet, determined manner, which meant more than fierce, noisy passion, broke down and began to cry, wishing she had died before Paul ceased to care for her,—wishing she had never seen Elithe, and ending by saying she didn’t care who was invited to the wedding, and that she had been unreasonable and foolish and was sorry. Before she reached this point Paul’s anger had melted, and the quarrel was made up in every possible way. He, however, insisted that he could not write to Jack and that it was better to let him come, and take the chance of good or bad behavior. He did not ask to see Jack’s letter, nor did Clarice offer to show it to him, but after he had gone and she was alone in her room she read it again, softening and hardening at intervals, and not knowing whether she were more angry at Elithe or Jack for the latter’s proposed visit to Oak City. The letter was as follows: “Samona, Montana, July ——, 18——. “Dear Sister: “I have written you twice and had no answer, and I suppose you think me a greater scamp than when you used to tell me I was one every day of my life. Well, I own up. I was a scamp to use your money, but I really had to or be arrested. I shall pay it back, honor bright. I’m going into the mining business; am prospecting now in or near Samona, a right smart little town, as they say here at the West. I’ve been here two weeks or more, and have made the acquaintance of the Rev. Mr. Hansford, nephew of that cranky woman in Oak City who used to hold me in such high esteem. I’m quite hand in glove with the rector and his family and pass for a respectable man. His daughter is visiting his aunt, he tells me. Do you know her? I hope your infernal pride has not kept you from calling upon her. Her father is very kind to me, and I wish you’d be polite to her. Mr. Hansford is a good deal of a man, too. Ought to have a better parish than this, though what the miners would do without him I don’t know. They fairly worship him. Their daughter has written them of a wedding she expects to attend in August and to which everybody, I should think, is to be bidden except your scapegrace brother. Him you haven’t even told of your engagement. It is true you haven’t known exactly my whereabouts since I failed to pay. But a letter sent to Denver is sure to reach me some time. I got the one blowing me up for my rascality, and have heard nothing since of you until news of your approaching marriage came to me through the Rev. Mr. Hansford, or rather his son Rob, who told me that Elithe expected to attend a grand wedding. I did not tell him I had ever heard of you. Shame that I, your brother, should be so much a stranger