"Oh, Mr. Houghton! my memory goes further back than that. I can see a tall man leap into a sinking boat and--and--oh, why did you sink with it? My father's agony over the thought that you had died for him turned his hair white." "I couldn't help sinking, Miss Bodine. If it hadn't been for that blasted pole--Well, perhaps it saved all our lives, for my boat was overloaded as it was. But don't think about that affair. It might have turned out worse." "It might indeed. If you knew how we all felt when we thought you were drowned!" "Well, I thank God that I happened to be near." "Happened! You seemed to have a presentiment of evil, and kept near." "I was facing a certainty of evil then, Miss Bodine. I expected to go North in a few days, and feared I might not see you again. There, I shouldn't speak so now. My memory goes back further than yours. I remember a blue-eyed stranger who drew near to me when I was facing a street bully, as if she meditated becoming my protector. I saw a noble woman's soul in those clear eyes, and she said 'I was a gentleman.' I must remember her words now with might and main. All that I ask is that you won't let any one else--that you will give me a chance when in your own home. Your father has--" "Mr. Houghton, is it not time for Mr. Clancy's medicine?" "Yes, and past time," he replied, ruefully. When he returned she said demurely, "I think I can promise what you ask. Now surely, since your mind is at rest, you can sleep. I will watch." "I'm too happy to sleep." "How absurd!" "Oh, the shock this morning did not disturb me half so much as to see those fellows around with their devouring eyes." "Mr. Houghton, don't you think that if we asked them, those colored people would be less loud? It must be dreadful for those who are sick, and there are so many." "They will be brutal indeed if they don't yield to you," and he led the way to the nearest centre of disturbance. "Oh, see! Mr. Houghton, there's our old Hannah."