Mr. Houghton rallied slowly, but grew calmer and more rational with time. He wished to see his confidential clerk on business, but Dr. Devoe said gently but firmly, "Not yet." He began to permit, however, a daily written statement from the office that all was going well. During this convalescence George felt that he must take no middle course. He resolved to have no further communication with Captain Bodine, and not to do anything which, if it came to his father's knowledge, would retard his recovery. One thing, however, he was resolved upon. In carrying out his father's wishes he would draw the line at an ambitious alliance at the North. "Since I have conquered Captain Bodine," he muttered, with a little resolute nod of his head: "I will subdue my own paternal ancestor; then the way will be open for a siege of the fair citadel, the peerless little baker. No wonder her cakes seemed all sugar and spice." Thus George often mused, complacently regardless of the incongruous terms bestowed upon Ella in his thoughts. Sometimes these reveries brought smiles to his face, and more than once he started and flushed as he observed his father looking at him searchingly yet wistfully. Meanwhile he scarcely left the old man night or day. He slept on a cot by his side, and at the slightest movement was awake, and ready to anticipate wishes before they could be spoken. On the last day of August his father was well enough to be up and dressed most of the forenoon. George began to read the beloved Boston papers, but Mr. Houghton soon said: "That will do, I'm in no mood for dog-day politics. Go off and amuse yourself, as long as you don't go near the harbor." "I've no wish to go out, father. When the sun is low I'll take a tramp of a mile or two." "In a week or so more I think I'll be able to travel, George." "I hope so." "I fear you don't wish to leave Charleston." "I wish to do what is best for your health." Then a long silence followed, each busy with his own thoughts. At last Mr. Houghton said: "It's strange we've heard nothing from those Bodines. They appear to accept their lives from your hand as a matter of course;" and the old man watched the effect of these tentative words. George flushed, but said gently: "Dear father, try to be just, even in your enmities. I have heard from Captain Bodine, and--" "What! have you been corresponding with them, and all that?" interrupted Mr. Houghton irritably. "Why didn't you tell me?" "I merely replied to Mr. Bodine's note the day after the accident. Since then I have not heard from any of the rescued party, nor have I made the slightest effort to do so. Dr. Devoe said you required quiet of body and mind, and I have not done anything which would interfere with this." "Thank you, my boy, thank you heartily. I shall owe my life more to your faithful attendance than to Dr. Devoe."