He put his arm about her. “I know it, Grandmother,” he broke in, quickly. “But that is all settled. I am going to try to make my own living in my own way. I am going to write and see what I am really worth. I have my royalty money, you know, most of it, and I have this order for the series of stories. I can afford to pay for my keep and I shall. You see, as I told Grandfather last night, I don't propose to live on his charity any more than on Mr. Fosdick's.” She sighed. “So Zelotes said,” she admitted. “He told me no less than three times that you said it. It seemed to tickle him most to death, for some reason, and that's queer, too, for he's anything but stingy. But there, I suppose you can pay board if you want to, though who you'll pay it to is another thing. _I_ shan't take a cent from the only grandson I've got in the world.” It was while on his stroll down to the village that Albert met Mr. Kendall. The reverend gentleman was plodding along carrying a market basket from the end of which, beneath a fragment of newspaper, the tail and rear third of a huge codfish drooped. The basket and its contents must have weighed at least twelve pounds and the old minister was, as Captain Zelotes would have said, making heavy weather of it. Albert went to his assistance. “How do you do, Mr. Kendall,” he said; “I'm afraid that basket is rather heavy, isn't it. Mayn't I help you with it?” Then, seeing that the old gentleman did not recognize him, he added, “I am Albert Speranza.” Down went the basket and the codfish and Mr. Kendall seized him by both hands. “Why, of course, of course,” he cried. “Of course, of course. It's our young hero, isn't it. Our poet, our happy warrior. Yes,--yes, of course. So glad to see you, Albert. . . . Er . . . er . . . How is your mother?” “You mean my grandmother? She is very well, thank you.” “Yes--er--yes, your grandmother, of course. . . . Er . . . er. . . . Did you see my codfish? Isn't it a magnificent one. I am very fond of codfish and we almost never have it at home. So just now, I happened to be passing Jonathan Howes'--he is the--er--fishdealer, you know, and . . . Jonathan is a very regular attendant at my Sunday morning services. He is--is. . . . Dear me. . . . What was I about to say?” Being switched back to the main track by Albert he explained that he had seen a number of cod in Mr. Howes' possession and had bought this specimen. Howes had lent him the basket.