Madelene had told him, "Your mother won't have to worry any more, dear. We can send her away for a nice, long rest, and when Professor Young's lease is up, we'll fix the lake place for a summer home." "If I could marry Madelene," he thought, "the debts--" He got up, lighted a cigarette, his fingers shaking so he almost dropped the match. He couldn't marry Madelene! Yet to acknowledge his relation to the squatter girl meant a certain and final break with the Waldstrickers, the financial ruin of himself and his mother. Even at that cost, he must do it. Tessibel was his wife, his dear little wife. He had promised to make a home for her. But how? Could they get along at all, and what would he do with her impossible father? As his mother had said, he had no ability to earn anything. Bitter tears of discouragement filled his eyes. Suddenly, a thought found its way into his brain and seemed to clear the situation completely. "If I could explain it to Tess," he whispered, "and she would consent, everything would be easy. I know she'd help me!" Again and again, and from many different angles, the argument repeated itself. He lay wakeful in bed, his mind a confused jumble of diversified thoughts, in which his mother, then Tess, and again the Waldstrickers demanded his attention and sought to influence him. Worn out, at length he fell into a troubled sleep. He was late in rising the next morning. When he finally went into his mother's room, he found Madelene seated by the invalid's side, holding her hand. Frederick knew by the expression on their faces, that the girl had confided to his mother the agreement made in the drawing room the evening before. Smiling a little uncertainly, he crossed the room. "Good morning, mater! Good morning, Madelene!" said he. Madelene smiled shyly, stood up and moved a little away. Frederick bent over his mother, who kissed him and murmured, "I'm so pleased and happy." He straightened up and took Madelene's outstretched hand, very much inclined to tell them both then how impossible it was for him to carry out his engagement. But his mother, ostentatiously turning on her pillow, cried laughingly. "Don't mind me, children, dear!... Kiss your sweetheart, if you want to, Frederick!" Snuggling to his side, Madelene threw her arms around his neck, and whispered, "You do love me, dear, don't you?" Smiling into her eyes, he kissed her. "Of course I do," he lied promptly. "Don't you know it, little girl?" After breakfast, Mrs. Graves summoned them to her room again. Relieved of her pressing anxieties, and excited by the sudden fruition of her cherished plans, she looked and acted much better. She talked gaily to the young people of their future, laughed at the girl's blushes, and chaffed her son about his coming responsibilities. "Frederick," she suddenly said more soberly. "I think you should go right away now and see Ebenezer, and ask him properly for Madelene's hand."