"You _are a gentleman_, truly! I gave you my confidence and expected"-- "Do not say more," said Louis, raising his hand deprecatingly against the coming falsehood, "do not help me to despise you. I am too sorry that I am forced to know what you said to me was untrue, and also to realize what my Emily has suffered and kept in her own heart." "Louis Desmonde," said Mr. Benton, "do you realize what you are saying?" "Only too well, sir; do not force me to say more. I admire your art. I am willing to help you to be a man." "_Indeed!_" replied Mr. Benton. "Philanthropic _boy_! who talks to a man of years and judgment!" It was a bitter pill for him, and I believe it was the knowledge of Louis' money, and of his own great need of it, that forced him to retreat in silence, while Louis sought and told me of their interview. "How could you help telling him of the letter, Louis?" "I did not have to try to help it, for I want to be sure of all I say to him, and as far as I spoke I had perfect authority. He may at some time need my help, though he spurned the aid of his 'philanthropic boy.'" "_Boy_," said I, "you are old enough to be his father in goodness, but here comes Aunt Hildy. The poor lamb must be better, else she would not come back so soon," and I opened the door for her entrance. "I know what you're after," she said, "she's better; the poor thing will get well. Oh dear! land! I wonder, when'll the same old story end." "Has she told it to you, Aunt Hildy?" "Partly to me and partly to Mis' Goodwin." (Aunt Hildy never said Mrs. ---- married or single, it was always Miss.) "She'll tell you all about it, I guess, for she wants to see you. She remembers your dark eyes, and Matthias she calls Peter--yes, she does, now she's come clean to her senses, and when she gets a little more strength, she says she must see him, and the dark eyes too; so you'll have to go over. Mis' Goodwin said mebbe you'd better wait till to-morrer, and so says Brother Davis. He come over and brought a few of his powders--he wanted to do something. I told him we could fetch her out straight--Mis' Goodwin and me--and I think he'd better tend to himself--says he's got a dreadful pain under his shoulder blades; acts as if he's goin' to be sick." "Could the young lady eat anything, Mrs. Patten?" said Louis. "Mercy! yes, I've made gruel twice for her and she's all right, only she'll be lame and sore-like for a good while, but I must go to work, I've been gone long enough. Where's your mother?" And the dear old soul hastened to her duties.