That evening, while they were out for a walk, Mildred said to Roger, with a little tremor in her voice, “He’s come.”

He gave her a swift look, and then he turned as quickly away, but his arm grew rigid under her hand.

“Don’t fail me, Roger,” she pleaded.

“It’s unexpected—­I wasn’t prepared,” he said, in a low tone, and then he was silent.  He felt her hand trembling so greatly that he soon mastered himself for her sake.  “It’s all right, Millie,” he said heartily.  “Be just as happy as you can.”

“How can I be truly happy when you are not?” she sighed.

“Bless your kind heart! do you think I am going to stand off and lower at your happiness like a black cloud?  Do you think I’m going to droop, look forlorn and deserted, and heave great sighs in dark corners?  By all the powers! if I were capable of such meanness toward you, I’d whip myself worse than I did that fellow Bissel.”

“Do you think I’ll feel for you any the less because you are so good and brave about it?”

“Oh, confound it!” he said impatiently, “you must not feel too much.  Spoiling your happiness won’t do me any good; it would just make me savage.”

She leaned her head for a second against his shoulder and said, “I’m not a bit afraid of you, Roger.”

“There, Millie,” he said quietly, “you always get the better of the old Satan in me, but I sometimes feel as if I could more easily tame a whole menagerie than my own nature.  Come to think of it, it’s all turning out for the best.  To-morrow I go home on quite a long vacation.  Father isn’t very well this summer, and I’m to take charge of the harvest for him.”

“Isn’t this plan a little sudden?” she asked.

“Not more so than your news,” he replied grimly.

“Are you not willing to meet him yet?”

“Not quite.  After a few weeks in the fields I shall come back with the stoicism and appearance of a wild Indian.  Come, Millie, I said I wouldn’t fail you, nor shall I. Leave it all to me.  I will explain to Mrs. Wheaton to-night, and to our other friends when the right time comes, and I will make it appear all right to them.  If I justify you, they should have nothing to say.  And now you have nothing to do but accept your happiness and make the most of it.  I still request that you do not speak of me to Arnold except in a casual way.  When we meet you can introduce me simply as a friend who was kind during your troubles.  I’ll soon know after we meet whether we can get on together, and if we can’t it will save complications for you as well as myself.  You must let me serve you in my own way, and I think my judgment will be better than yours in this matter.”

She was silent for a few moments, and by the light of a lamp he saw that her eyes were full of tears.  “Roger,” she said softly after a while, “I sometimes think that my affection for you is greater than my love for Vinton, but it is so different.  It seems almost like my religion.  You are a refuge for me, no matter what happens.”