of Herridon before I come? I hope not, indeed. Always gratefully
yours,

IDA GLADNEY.


He thoughtfully folded the letter up, and put it in his pocket. Then he
said to Baron, "What did you say was the name of the pretty girl at the
View House?"

"Mildred, Mildred Margrave--lovely, 'cometh up as a flower,' and all that.
You'll see her to-night."

Hagar looked at him debatingly, then said, "You are in love with her,
Baron. Isn't it--forgive me--isn't it a pretty mad handicap?"

Baron ran his hand over his face in an embarrassed fashion, then got up,
laughed nervously, but with a brave effort, and replied: "Handicap, my
son, handicap? Of course, it's all handicap. But what difference does that
make when it strikes you? You can't help it, can you? It's like loading
yourself with gold, crossing an ugly river, but you do it. Yes, you do it
just the same."

He spoke with an affected cheerfulness, and dropped a hand on Hagar's
shoulder. It was now Hagar's turn. He drew down the hand and wrung it as
Baron had wrung his in the morning. "You're a brick, Baron," he said.

"I tell you what, Hagar. I'd like to talk the thing over once with Mrs.
Detlor. She's a wise woman, I believe, if ever there was one; sound as the
angels, or I'm a Zulu. I fancy she'd give a fellow good advice, eh?--a