“I dare say he would prefer not being thanked,” murmured Aline. “Do you think so? And yet, it would look very ungracious in us to neglect doing so. It would appear as if we thought the saving of our daughter’s life not even worthy a word of thanks. I should not like to have him think that we undervalued either your life or his services,” said Mrs. Rodney, with natural pride. “What can it matter what he thinks? I should not say one word to him,” cried Aline, with sudden peevishness. Mrs. Rodney gazed at her in surprise. “Aline, I never did understand your strange nature,” she said, rather coldly. “Do you mean for me to think that you are not grateful to Mr. Delaney for his inestimable service in saving you from such a horrible death?” Aline flushed under the rebuking glance her mother bent upon her. “Not exactly that, mamma,” she said. “But Mr. Delaney is so unsocial and retiring, I thought he might not care to be intruded upon, even to receive our thanks for what he has done. Of course I am grateful. I was dreadfully frightened down there in the water. I did not want to die, although I had as well be dead as living, since my life is ruined and blighted. But I dare say Mr. Delaney has almost forgotten the occurrence by now, and I do not think we have any right to intrude upon his privacy even to air our gratitude.” Mrs. Rodney did not take this view of the case at all. “I should not think it an intrusion if any one came to thank me for saving life,” she said. “In any case, I shall thank him; but, since he is so reticent and unsocial, perhaps the best way would be to send him a letter--don’t you think so?” “Yes, I think so,” answered Aline, closing her eyes with a weary sigh. She thought of the letter she had thrown into the garden to him, begging him to save her good name by allowing her to break the vow of silence he had imposed upon her. He had refused her prayer; he had allowed her hopes to be ruthlessly blasted, without lifting a finger to prevent it; and yet he had risked his life to save hers. She could not understand it. “Why was he there? People say he never goes out; yet he was at the church, and he was at the river. Was he watching me?” she asked herself, and the thought only made her wonder the more. What did his interest mean? “Twice I have owed my life to him,” she thought. “And yet he has suffered me to lose that which was dearer than life--my good name! I do not know what to think of him--while I hate him for the one thing, I must needs be grateful to him for the other.”