He was not too busy to watch Helen Murray, and serve her in every way possible. He tried to atone for his past neglect of the Perkins family by getting Billy a good position on his return, and was rewarded by being allowed to walk up to Rosemount with Helen the night Billy came home. He was so quietly persistent in his devotion to the girl, making no demands, but always standing ready to serve her, that she could not but see how matters were with him. But the revelation brought her no joy. Her heart was still full of bitter memories, and with all gentleness and kindness, she set about the task of showing Roderick that his attentions were unwelcome. It was not an easy task, for she was often very lonely and sometimes she forgot that she must not allow him to waylay her in Willow Lane and walk up to Rosemount with her. Again she punished herself for her laxity by being very severe with him and at such times Roderick allowed himself to seek comfort for his wounded feelings in Leslie Graham's company, for Leslie was always kind and charming. One evening, Roderick and Fred Hamilton had been dining at the Grahams and had walked home with the Misses Baldwin. They were returning down the hill together, and Fred, who had been very sulky all evening, grew absolutely silent. Roderick tried several topics in vain and finally gave up the attempt at conversation and swung along whistling, his hands in his pockets. At last the young man spoke. "I'm going West this spring." "Oh, are you?" said Roderick, glad to hear him say something. "You're lucky. That's where I'd like to be going." "Yes, likely," sneered the other. "I guess any fellow can see what direction you're going all right." "What do you mean?" asked Roderick, nettled at the tone. "Oh, yes, as if you didn't know," growled his aggrieved rival. "You don't need to think I'm blind and deaf too, and a fool into the bargain." Roderick stopped short in the middle of the snowy side-walk. "Look here," he said quietly, "if you don't speak up like a man, and tell me what you're hinting at I--well, I'll have to make you, that's all." Fred had run foul of Roderick McRae at school and knew from painful experience that it was not safe to make him very angry. "Well, you needn't get so hot about it," he said half apologetically. "I merely hinted that you--well, you can't help seeing it yourself--" "Seeing what, you blockhead?" "Seeing that she--that Leslie doesn't care two pins about anybody but you. She'd be glad if I went West to-morrow." The hot blood rushed into Roderick's face. He turned upon the young man, but they were passing under an electric light and the look of misery in Fred's face disarmed him. He burst into derisive laughter.