“Upset you, Mr. Arp?” she cried.  “I don’t quite see.”

The old man shook his head deploringly.  “After what I’d written you about that boy—­”

“Ah,” she said, softly, touching his sleeve with her fingers, “I haven’t thanked you for that.”

“You needn’t,” he returned, sharply.  “It was a pleasure.  Do you remember how easy and quick I promised you?”

“I remember that you were very kind.”

“Kind!” He gave forth an acid and chilling laugh.  “It was about two months after Louden ran away, and before you and Roger left Canaan, and you asked me to promise to write to you whenever word of that outcast came—­”

“I didn’t put it so, Mr. Arp.”

“No, but you’d ought of!  You asked me to write you whatever news of him should come, and if he came back to tell you how and when and all about it.  And I did it, and kept you sharp on his record ever since he landed here again.  Do you know why I’ve done it?  Do you know why I promised so quick and easy I would do it?”

“Out of the kindness of your heart, I think.”

The acid laugh was repeated.  “No, ma ’am!  You couldn’t of guessed colder.  I promised, and I kept my promise, because I knew there would never be anything good to tell!  And there never was!”

“Nothing at all?” she insisted, gravely.

“Never!  I leave it to you if I’ve written one good word of him.”

“You’ve written of the treatment he has received here,” she began, “and I’ve been able to see what he has borne—­and bears!”

“But have I written one word to show that he didn’t deserve it all?  Haven’t I told you everything, of his associates, his—­”

“Indeed you have!”

“Then do you wonder that I was more surprised than most when I saw you walking with him to-day?  Because I knew you did it in cold blood and knowledge aforethought!  Other folks thought it was because you hadn’t been here long enough to hear his reputation, but I knew!”

“Tell me,” she said, “if you were disappointed when you saw me with him.”

“Yes,” he snapped.  “I was!”

“I thought so.  I saw the consternation in your face!  You approved, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Yes, you do!  I know it bothers you to have me read you between the lines, but for this once you must let me.  You are so consistent that you are never disappointed when things turn out badly, or people are wicked or foolish, are you?”

“No, certainly not.  I expect it.”

“And you were disappointed in me to-day.  Therefore, it must be that I was doing something you knew was right and good.  You see?” She leaned a little closer to him, smiling angelically.  “Ah, Mr. Arp,” she cried, “I know your secret:  you admire me!”

He rose, confused and incoherent, as full of denial as a detected pickpocket.  “I don’t!  Me admire?  What?  It’s an ornery world,” he protested.  “I don’t admire any human that ever lived!”