“You’re very unkind and--cruel--to tell me--that John’s business was dangerous--and that he didn’t care for anything--even me--and that I’d get wrinkled--” Harriet sat down beside her on the bed. Her manner had changed instantly when she had seen the effect of her words. When she spoke, her voice was very gentle. “Forgive me, dear. I spoke very foolishly; because I was tired, I suppose. But you didn’t understand me exactly. John loves you very, very much; you know that. When I said he didn’t care, I wasn’t thinking of you at all, but of other things: books, you know, and plays, and politics. And he’s perfectly sure to come out right, just as I said he was, no matter what he goes through. Only I think both of you will be happier if you keep quite out of his business world, and don’t let him bring it home with him, but try to interest him in other things when you’re with him, and make him forget all about his business; and the only way to do that is not to know. Don’t you see, dear?” She paused, and for a moment stroked the flushed forehead. Then she went on, speaking almost playfully:-- “So I want you to promise me that you won’t ask John about those things, or let him explain them, even if he wants to. It may be hard sometimes, but it’s better that way. Will you?” Alice nodded uncomprehendingly; Harriet kissed her good night, and rose to leave the room. “Are you quite sure he loves me better than the bank?” the young girl asked, smiling, albeit somewhat tremulously. “Quite sure,” laughed Harriet; “whole lots better.” When Sponley came in, still later that evening, she told him of John’s offer. “How did he come out with his explanation?” he asked. “I didn’t let him begin. I changed the subject.” “It’s just as well. He’s lucky if he can ever make her understand how to indorse a check, let alone anything more complicated.” “I fancy that’s true,” Harriet said, and she added to herself, “of course it’s true. I’ve had all my worries for nothing, and have frightened Alice half to death. But then, she didn’t understand it.” “Anyway, I’m glad that you understand,” Sponley was saying. “I’m glad, too,” she answered, and kissed him. John and Alice were married, as they had planned, in April; but the wedding trip was cut short by a telegram from Dawson, directing John to go to Howard City, to assume the management of the First National Bank there; and the house they had chosen and partly furnished had to be given up to some one else. Alice cried over it a good deal, and John was sorely puzzled to understand why she should feel badly over his promotion.