"Indeed I should," replied Dunham, immediately conscious of beginning to glide, and anchoring himself with an arm across the mahogany back. "It would be sacrilege ever to use such a miracle of whiteness and shine, with a cameo monogram." "How foolish," returned Miss Martha, visibly cheered. "No, indeed," continued John; "I'm going to have it framed and hung where my laundress can use it for a model." His companion emitted a faint laugh. "I'm glad you can joke," she said, "and it's real kind of you to come and thank me for such a trifle. Oh, Mr. Dunham, I haven't had a happy minute since that day we were in Boston. I was just now sitting down to write a letter to Thinkright. He doesn't know the suspense I'm in. I suppose she's told him how hateful I was, and he thinks I don't care." "Yes, a letter came only to-day. Here it is. It was one of my errands to bring it." "Good news? Oh, is it good news?" Miss Lacey's attitude changed alertly, and she seized the offered envelope. "I don't know," replied John. "She's there." His companion had already torn open the sheet, and was reading greedily. "Oh, dear--_dear_!" she ejaculated above her breath. At last she looked up. "The judge showed you this, of course?" "No." "Then"-- "No, really, Miss Lacey, it's none of my business, you see." "None of your business, after you've been so _kind_ and taken such an _interest_? I should say it is! Listen." John brought his teeth together in a resigned sigh while his hostess read aloud, occasionally lifting her eyes to comment. At the close he spoke. "I was surprised to learn that you and Miss Derwent are friends." "Oh, you know her?" asked Miss Martha absently. "Up to a few years ago, I did, very well." "You can see what opinion Thinkright has of Judge Trent and me." "Yes," returned John, harking back to his monosyllables. "No doubt you have the same," said Miss Lacey dismally, "even though I explained to you fully"-- "Well, your mind can be at rest now," returned Dunham. "The young lady is provided for." "Thinkright is certainly a good man," said Miss Lacey, her brow still drawn, "although he isn't exactly what folks would call a professor. No one that knows him has a particle of doubt that he means well, and I feel that his notions can't do Sylvia any real harm when he lives such a good life." "What are his notions? Do you mean that he is a freethinker?"