"And still, in the fulness of this knowledge, you contracted by implication to deliver to her this same thing--happiness," he said.

A second Harry Randall waited, then unconsciously he pa.s.sed his hand across his face.

"Yes," he echoed, "in the fulness of knowledge I did it. I loved her."

"Loved? And yet you sacrificed her! And on top of that again labelled her rebellion unjustified!" He was silent.

Again Harry Randall's hand pa.s.sed across his face, and this time it came back damp.

"G.o.d, you're hard on me!" he said. "I deserve it, though, and more. She was ignorant absolutely of what it meant to count pennies and deny herself. She couldn't realize, couldn't!"

Roberts said nothing. The leaven was working.

"I hoped, deluded myself with the belief, that it would be different; yet from the first I knew better. I was to blame absolutely. I simply loved her, as I do now--that was all."

"Yes." This time the voice was gentle, unbelievably gentle. "I think I understand--think I do. Anyway," the voice was matter of fact again, startlingly, perhaps intentionally, so, "we're wandering from the point.

The past is dead. Let's bury it and look into the future. Do you see the solution yet?"

Randall looked up swiftly. He smiled; the smile of a noncombatant.

"Yes, I see it; I can't help seeing it; but--" The sentence completed itself in a gesture of impotency confessed.

"Don't do that, don't!" The annoyance was not simulated. "It's unforgivable.... You're healthy, are you not?"

"Yes."

"And strong?"

"Reasonably."

"Well, what more can you ask? The world's full of work; avalanches of it, mountains of it. It seems as though there never was so much to be done as now, to-day; and the world will pay, pay if you'll do it. Can't you see light?"

Randall caught himself in time to prevent a second gesture.

"No, frankly, I can't. I've tried, but I'm fundamentally incapable."

Roberts' great fighting face flashed about.

"You've tried--how?"

Randall hesitated, and once again the color mounted his cheek.

"I do my work here in the department the best I can, creditably, I think; but still there isn't much to look forward to, nothing adequate."

"And that's as far as you've tried?"

"Yes; I have no other training."

Roberts looked at him, merely looked.

"No other training!... You fancy this little university, this little bounded, contracted circle, is the world? You've tried! Let me see your hands."

Higher and higher mounted the tell-tale color; obedient as a schoolboy Randall obeyed. Something compelled.

Again Roberts looked and turned away. "A woman's hands; I fancied so....

And you hoped to fulfil your contract, defied fate--with those hands!"

His own worked, and under command went still. "You agreed to let me help you, did you not?" he digressed suddenly.

"Yes."

"And promised to trust me? I wish that understood clearly in the beginning."

"Yes," again.

"Very well, then, that brings us back to the starting-point. I repeat my proposal that Mrs. Randall and you change your residence immediately.

Must I a.n.a.lyze further?"

"No, I understand--and appreciate. I accept too if Margery--" he halted with a wry smile. "Do you think she--would if I asked her?"

Roberts' expression did not alter. "Supposing you write her and find out," he suggested. "And in the meantime you'll have three days to settle in your new home," he added irrelevantly.

Again Randall colored, like a youth planning on building his first nest.

The contagion of the thing was upon him, the infinite, rosy possibilities manifest.

"I can do it easily," he said, "and she'll be surprised--and pleased--I can fancy the way she'll look now." Second thought intruded. "I'm afraid, though, the few things we've got here won't even make an impression there. The place is so big by comparison."

"That's all right," easily. "I said I'd want to take a hand." He had a seeming inspiration. "Supposing you get Miss Gleason to help you and suggest what more is needed. I'm sure she'd do it for Mrs. Randall and you. I'll speak to her too."

"Just the thing. I'd like that immensely. No one can help that way like Elice."

"Let's consider it settled then." His point carried, Roberts' great hands were loose in his lap again. "I had just one other matter I wished to speak about to-night. How'd you like to accept a position under me with the new company?" He did not elaborate this time, did not dissimulate.

"I'll personally guarantee you four thousand a year, beginning January first, with three weeks' vacation."

"How would I like it!" For the third time Harry Randall fell to polishing his gla.s.ses; but this time, in spite of an effort to prevent, his hand shook visibly. "You don't need to ask me that. It would be a miracle; only--only I'm a bit afraid of a position of that kind--afraid it would be too big."

"The company would expect you to earn it, of course," impa.s.sively.

"But I'm not worth it. I know that and I don't want to accept under false representations. It's beyond me."

"Beyond nothing!" curtly. "If I say you're worth it, you are. I'll make you so--help if necessary. Do you accept?"

"Accept, yes, and thank you. I won't protest, or presume to misunderstand your intent in offering it to me. I realize you're giving me a chance to make good where I failed to fulfil my obligation with Margery." The voice was not so steady as it might have been and for an instant Randall halted. "If you don't mind, though," he went on, "I'd like to ask you a question. I can't conceive why you, a stranger, practically, should do all this for me. I'm simply confused, it's all so unprecedented. Why do you do it, please?"

Into Darley Roberts' eyes crept the old odd smile that spread no farther.

"You mean it's all so unprecedented--of me," he returned bluntly.

Randall said nothing. It was true.