“She isn’t sparking around with him. He is a nice boy, I guess; every one says he is, and a smart one, too. It’s the picture he is making of her in all her pretty things that caught her fancy. It would catch any girl’s. It must be a good picture, too. Esther says it is wonderful. I should like to see it.” He twisted in the rocker. “I don’t care if it is a panorama,” he snapped. “He had the cheek of a brass monkey to paint it. And, by the Lord Harry, if he so much as speaks to her again I’ll break his neck.” Reliance laughed. “He is a pretty husky specimen, from what I hear,” she observed. “He might break yours first, Foster, if it came to that.... Oh, where is your common sense?” she demanded, with a sudden return to seriousness. “You have been young yourself. Your own father swore you shouldn’t be a sailor, and the upshot of that was that you ran away to sea the first chance you got. Don’t you know that, for young folks, the forbidden thing is always the temptin’ thing? Esther isn’t in love with Bob Griffin yet--that is, I am pretty sure she isn’t from the way she talks--but she certainly will be if you keep on bullyin’ her the way you did last night. That is just as sure as the sun’s risin’.” He took a hand from his pocket to rub his beard the wrong way. “Well,” he grumbled, impatiently, “that may be so--or may not. What am I going to do to stop it?” “Make your peace with her first. Go straight home to her and apologize. Tell her you are sorry you made such a ninny of yourself last night and beg her pardon. Then, if you are careful how you do it, you might perhaps explain a little about why you didn’t like her goin’ to see Bob. And, if I were you, I should put the most stress on her goin’ there without tellin’ you. _That_ is what--so you must say--hurt your feelin’s most. It is what has hurt hers, too. Her conscience was troublin’ her a lot about that; she told me so.” “Well, it ought to trouble her. It was a dirty trick to play on me.” “Perhaps. But, remember, she and Bob together were goin’ to give you that picture for your birthday. It was to be a surprise for you.... It would have been, too, I guess.” She laughed at the idea. He put his hand back into the pocket. “Well, suppose I do get down on my knees to her?” he said, grudgingly. “What then? That won’t be keeping her away from him. How am I going to do that?” “I don’t know exactly. I think I know what _I_ should do. First I should go with her to Bob’s studio, or whatever he calls it, and see that picture.” He leaned back to stare at her. “What are you trying to do?” he demanded. “Make fun of me?” “No, of course I’m not. I’m tryin’ to show you how to save the pieces, now that you’ve smashed the pitcher. Tell her you would like to see the paintin’ and ask her to take you there to see it. Pretend you think it is splendid, no matter whether you do or not. When they give it to you, take it and be thankful.” He broke out with an indignant growl.