“Wait a minute, let me ask you some questions before you tell me any more,” said Everett, quickly covering the sympathy that showed in his eyes with his business tone of voice.  “Is it Gideon Newsome who holds this mortgage?”

“Why, yes, how did you know?” asked Rose Mary with a mild surprise in her eyes as she raised them to his, bent intently on her.  “Uncle Tucker had to get the money from him six years ago.  It—­it was a debt of honor—­he—­we had to pay.”  A rich crimson spread itself over Rose Mary’s brow and cheeks and flooded down her white neck under the folds of her blue dress across her breast.  Tears rose to her eyes, but she lifted her head proudly and looked him straight in the face.  “There is a reason why I would give my life—­why I do and must give my life to protecting them from the consequences of the disaster.  No sacrifice is too great for me to make to save their home for them.”

“Do you mind telling me how much the mortgage is for?” asked Everett, still in his cool, thoughtful voice.

“For ten thousand dollars,” answered Rose Mary.  “The land is worth really less than fifteen.  Nobody but such a—­such a friend as Mr. Newsome would have loaned Uncle Tucker so much.  He—­he has been very kind to us.  I—­I am very grateful to him and I—­” Rose Mary faltered and dropped her eyes.  A tear trembled on the edge of her black lashes and then splashed on to the chubby cheek of Peter the reposer.

“I see,” said Everett coolly, and a flint tone made his usually rich voice harsh and tight.  For a few minutes he sat quietly looking Rose Mary over with an inscrutable look in his eyes that finally faded again into the utter world weariness.  “I see—­and so the bargain and sale goes on even on Providence Road under Old Harpeth.  But the old people will never have to give up the Briars while you are here to pay the price of their protection, Rose Mary.  Never!”

“I don’t believe they will—­my faith in Him makes me sure,” answered Rose Mary with lovely unconsciousness as she raised large, comforted eyes to Everett’s.  “I don’t know how I’m going to manage, but somehow my cup of faith seems to get filled each day with the wine of courage and the result is mighty apt to be a—­song.”  And Rose Mary’s face blushed out again into a flowering of smiles.

“A sort of cup of heavenly nectar,” answered Everett with an answering smile, but the keen look still in his eyes.  “See here, I want you to promise me something—­don’t ever, under any circumstances, tell anybody that I know about this mortgage.  Will you?”

“Of course, I won’t if you tell me not to,” answered Rose Mary immediately.  “I don’t like to think or talk about it.  I only told you because you wanted to help us.  Help offers are the silver linings to trouble clouds, and you brought this one down on yourself, didn’t you?  Of course, it’s selfish and wrong to tell people about your anxieties, but there is just no other way to get so close to a friend.  Don’t you think perhaps sometimes the Lord doesn’t bother to ‘temper the winds,’ but just leads you up on the sheltered side of somebody who is stronger than you are and leaves you there until your storm is over?”