“Judas!  I am—­as much as I can.  If I wasn’t charitable to that Mullet girl I’d be talkin’ yet.  I hove to afore I’d got scarcely under way.”

Keith put in a word.  “Finishing schools are not all bad, by any means,” he said.  “There are various kinds and grades, of course, but a good private school for girls is a fine thing.  It teaches them to meet and judge people of all kinds, and that fine feathers don’t always make fine birds.  Then, too, a girl at a good school of that sort is under strict discipline and her acquaintances, male acquaintances especially, are chosen with care.  Sixteen to eighteen is a dangerous age for the average girl.

“By the way,” he added, “did your niece tell you of her experience with that traveling salesman the other day, the fellow selling Christmas novelties?  No?  Well, I happened to be here at the time.  It was rather interesting.”

He told of Mary-’Gusta’s session with Mr. Kron.  The partners listened with growing indignation.

“Well, by the jumpin’!” exclaimed Captain Shad.  “Did you ever hear such brassy talk in your life!  I wish to thunder I’d been here.  There’d have been one mighty sick patient ready for the doctor and he wouldn’t have been a South Harniss native either.  But Mary-’Gusta didn’t take none of his sauce, I tell you; that girl of ours is all right!”

“Yes, she is all right.  But she didn’t enjoy the experience, that was plain enough, and, so far as I can see, she is likely to have a good many others of the same kind.  Now it isn’t my business, I know that; you can tell me to shut up and clear out any time you like, of course; but do you think it is just fair to a girl like your niece to condemn her to a life of storekeeping or the alternative of marrying one of the promising young men you’ve been talking about?  Don’t you think such a girl as she is deserves a chance; every chance you can give her?”

The two partners stared at him open-mouthed.  Shadrach, as usual, spoke first.

“Condemn her?” he repeated.  “Condemn Mary-’Gusta?  A chance?  Why—­”

“Hush, Shadrach,” interrupted Zoeth.  “Mr. Keith ain’t done yet.  He’s goin’ to tell us what he means.  Go on, Mr. Keith, what do you mean?”

Keith, having broken the ice, and found the water not so chilly as he had feared it might be, plunged in.

“Well, I mean this,” he said.  “I confess frankly that I have been very favorably impressed by your niece.  She is an unusual girl—­unusually pretty, of course, but much more than that.  She is simple and brave and sensible and frank.  If she were my daughter I should be very proud of her.  I know you are.  She should have, it seems to me, the opportunity to make the most of her qualities and personality.  I’ve been thinking about her a great deal ever since my call at the store here the other day.  Now I’ve got a suggestion to make.  You can take it or leave it, but I assure you it is made with the best of intentions and solely in her interest as I see it; and I hope you’ll take it after you’ve thought it over.  Here it is.”