"The lowest terms--and not very different from others." His eye rested upon the glossy horses and the spotless victoria. "No!" Miss Hitchcock answered dispiritedly. "But I _won't_ think of it that way. I am coming to see you again, if I may?" "You were very good to look us up," he answered evasively. They lingered, speaking slowly, as if loath to part in this superficial manner. He told her of his employment in Burnside, and remarked slowly, "I wonder who could have put the manager on my track." "I wonder," she repeated, looking past him. "You see I didn't start quite at the scratch," he added, his face relaxing into a smile. "I shouldn't quarrel about _that_ handicap." "No, I am not as ready to quarrel as I once was." Her face had the eager expression of interest and vitality that he remembered. She seemed to have something more that she wanted to say, but she simply held out her hand, with a warm "good-by," and stepped into the carriage. When he returned to the temple, Alves was busy getting their dinner. She paused, and glancing at Sommers remarked, "How beautiful she is!" "She is a good woman. She ought to marry," he responded. "Why?" "Because she is so sound and fine at bottom." "You were glad to see her again." "Did I show it unduly?" "I knew you were, and she knows it." When he looked at her a few moments later, her eyes were moist. CHAPTER VII "Pshaw! pshaw!" Dr. Leonard exclaimed, in a coaxing tone. "I'm disappointed, Alves. 'Tain't natural. I mean to see _him_ and show him what harm it is." "No, no, don't speak of it again, at least to _him_," Alves pleaded anxiously. "He would do that, or anything, if he thought I wanted it. I _don't_ want it, I tell you; I'm happier as it is." "S'pose there are children?" the old dentist asked, in a convincing tone. "I hope there never will be." "Now, that shows how wrong you are, how fussed up--why, what's marriage for if it ain't for children? I guess I've had as hard a struggle as most to keep head to the tide, but I couldn't spare the children. Now, I'll get our minister to do the job. You and the doctor come out next Sunday to my house, and after the evening service we'll slip over to the church and make it all right." Alves smiled at the earnest kindness of the old dentist, but shook her head firmly. Dr. Leonard gathered up his overcoat and silk hat, but seemed loath to go. He peered out of the windows that Sommers had put into the big doors of the temple. "It's like your living out here in this ramshackle old chicken-coop, when you might have a tidy flat on Paulina Street; and the doctor could have a desk in my office next door to his old boss." Dr. Leonard spoke testily, and Alves laid her hand soothingly on his arm. "I guess we aren't made to be like other people." "You won't have any happiness so long as you defy God's law." "Did I have any when I lived according to it?" The dentist, at the end of his arguments, turned the door-knob.