The evening before had developed nothing of any moment. The two boys rushed in after dinner, completely monopolized the situation for such time as they were present, and then dashed off to keep a college engagement. Things were too "thick," Billy explained to Merry, to have a real visit. Thatcher seemed worn out and asked the indulgence of his host to permit his early retiring; Mrs. Thatcher was happy and complacent, rejoicing in the change she found in Hamlen and grateful to her ally for having brought it about; Merry appeared strangely quiet, but even if her presence had been wholly silent it would have seemed a benediction to Huntington, whose sentiments no one suspected, and on whom all depended for the expression of their individual purposes. Huntington smiled grimly to himself as he recalled Hamlen's matter-of-fact assumption that love had never entered into his life; he even questioned whether his friend's self-imposed restraint was more difficult than the repression of his own emotion! After luncheon they walked out onto the golf links, Huntington and Marian finding a retreat in one of the thatched-roof shelters from which they could command an extended view on all sides. Thatcher and Hamlen had fallen behind, following Merry, who was eager to secure a better idea of the earlier holes in the course. Marian seated herself and then looked up into Huntington's face with an expression of complete satisfaction. "It is simply wonderful!" she exclaimed. "It is a fine course--" "I'm not thinking of the course," she interrupted. "What you have done with Philip Hamlen is simply wonderful!" "You must give your boy his share of the credit; his influence over Hamlen is no less than mine." "I am glad my son could do something toward paying his mother's debt," she replied feelingly. "Now if you and I can complete the work I shall feel that restitution has been amply made." "You refer to your daughter?" "Yes; if I can see Merry married to Philip Hamlen I shall be blissfully content." Huntington did not reply at once. He must be fair to this woman of whose determination he could now have no doubt; he must be fair to Hamlen, but above all he must be fair to the girl herself. Could he assume any position of impartiality? Would not each word really be a cry from his own heart, not against Hamlen but against any one who should create a barrier between himself and her? But Hamlen had besought his aid, so after all a responsibility existed, not of his making, which could not be shirked. He would meet the issue squarely with special care to eliminate himself. "I regret to say that I cannot sympathize with that plan," he said deliberately. Mrs. Thatcher looked at him in complete surprise. "I thought we agreed--" "I have had greater opportunity to study Hamlen since we last talked."