Captain Zelotes, regarding him keenly, leaned back again in his chair. “Read it if you want to, Al,” he said. “Maybe you'd better. I can wait.” Albert hesitated a moment and then tore open the envelope. The note within was short, evidently written in great haste and agitation and was spotted with tear stains. He read it, his cheeks paling and his hand shaking as he did so. Something dreadful had happened. Mother--Mrs. Fosdick, of course--had discovered everything. She had found all his--Albert's--letters and read them. She was furious. There had been the most terrible scene. Madeline was in her own room and was smuggling him this letter by Mary, her maid, who will do anything for me, and has promised to mail it. Oh, dearest, they say I must give you up. They say--Oh, they say dreadful things about you! Mother declares she will take me to Japan or some frightful place and keep me there until I forget you. I don't care if they take me to the ends of the earth, I shall NEVER forget you. I will never--never--NEVER give you up. And you mustn't give me up, will you, darling? They say I must never write you again. But you see I have--and I shall. Oh, what SHALL we do? I was SO happy and now I am so miserable. Write me the minute you get this, but oh, I KNOW they won't let me see your letters and then I shall die. But write, write just the same, every day. Oh what SHALL we do? Yours, always and always, no matter what everyone does or says, lovingly and devotedly, MADELINE. When the reading was finished Albert sat silently staring at the floor, seeing it through a wet mist. Captain Zelotes watched him, his heavy brows drawn together and the smoke wreaths from his pipe curling slowly upward toward the office ceiling. At length he said: “Well, Al, I had a letter, too. I presume likely it came from the same port even if not from the same member of the family. It's about you, and I think you'd better read it, maybe. I'll read it to you, if you'd rather.” Albert shook his head and held out his hand for the second letter. His grandfather gave it to him, saying as he did so: “I'd like to have you understand, Al, that I don't necessarily believe all that she says about you in this thing.” “Thanks, Grandfather,” mechanically. “All right, boy.”