anybody connected with a circus COULD ever become a minister。
〃The wholeerertrade is so different；〃 she said。
Mr。 Kendall was not there that evening； his attendance being
required at a meeting of the Sunday School teachers。 Helen；
however； was not at that meeting and Captain Zelotes declared his
intention of asking her opinion by telephone。
〃She'll say same as I doyou see if she don't；〃 he declared。 When
he called the parsonage； however； Maria Price answered the phone
and informed him that Helen was spending the evening with old Mrs。
Crowell； who lived but a little way from the Snow place。 The
captain promptly called up the Crowell house。
〃She's there and she'll stop in here on her way along；〃 he said
triumphantly。 〃And she'll back me upyou see。〃
But she did not。 She did not 〃back up〃 any one。 She merely smiled
and declared the problem too complicated to answer offhand。
〃Why don't you ask Albert？〃 she inquired。 〃After all； he is the
one who must settle it eventually。〃
〃He won't tell；〃 said Olive。 〃He's real provokin'； isn't he？ And
now you won't tell； either； Helen。〃
〃Oh； I don't knowyet。 But I think he does。〃
Albert； as usual； walked home with her。
〃How are you going to answer your hero's riddle？〃 she asked。
〃Before I tell you； suppose you tell me what your answer would be。〃
She reflected。 〃Well；〃 she said； 〃it seems to me that； all things
being as they are； he should do this： He should go to the sideshow
manthe minister nowand have a very frank talk with him。 He
should tell him that he had decided to say nothing about the old
life and to help him in every way； to be his friendprovided that
he keep straight； that is all。 Of course more than that would be
meant； the alternative would be there and understood； but he need
not say it。 I think that course of action would be fair to himself
and to everybody。 That is my answer。 What is yours？〃
He laughed quietly。 〃Just that； of course；〃 he said。 〃You would
see it； I knew。 You always see down to the heart of things； Helen。
You have the gift。〃
She shook her head。 〃It didn't really need a gift； this particular
problem； did it？〃 she said。 〃It is notexcuse meit isn't
exactly a new one。〃
〃No； it isn't。 It is as old as the hills； but there are always new
twists to it。〃
〃As there are to all our old problems。〃
〃Yes。 By the way； your advice about the ending of my third story
was exactly what I needed。 The editor wrote me he should never
have forgiven me if it had ended in any other way。 It probably
WOULD have ended in another way if it hadn't been for you。 Thank
you； Helen。〃
〃Oh； you know there was really nothing to thank me for。 It was all
you； as usual。 Have you planned the next story； the fifth； yet？〃
〃Not entirely。 I have some vague ideas。 Do you want to hear
them？〃
〃Of course。〃
So they discussed those ideas as they walked along the sidewalk of
the street leading down to the parsonage。 It was a warm evening； a
light mist； which was not substantial enough to be a fog； hanging
low over everything； wrapping them and the trees and the little
front yards and low houses of the old village in a sort of cozy；
velvety； confidential quiet。 The scent of lilacs was heavy in the
air。
They both were silent。 Just when they had ceased speaking neither
could have told。 They walked on arm in arm and suddenly Albert
became aware that this silence was dangerous for him； that in it
all his resolves and brave determinations were melting into mist
like that about him； that he must talk and talk at once and upon a
subject which was not personal； which
And then Helen spoke。
〃Do you know what this reminds me of？〃 she said。 〃All this talk of
ours？ It reminds me of how we used to talk over those first poems
of yours。 You have gone a long way since then。〃
〃I have gone to Kaiserville and back。〃
〃You know what I mean。 I mean your work has improved wonderfully。
You write with a sure hand now； it seems to me。 And your view is
so much broader。〃
〃I hope I'm not the narrow； conceited little rooster I used to be。
I told you； Helen； that the war handed me an awful jolt。 Well； it
did。 I think it； or my sickness or the whole business together；
knocked most of that self…confidence of mine galley…west。 For so
much I'm thankful。〃
〃I don't know that I am； altogether。 I don't want you to lose
confidence in yourself。 You should be confident now because you
deserve to be。 And you write with confidence； or it reads as if
you did。 Don't you feel that you do； yourself？ Truly； don't you？〃
〃Well； perhaps； a little。 I have been at it for some time now。 I
ought to show some progress。 Perhaps I don't make as many mistakes。〃
〃I can't see that you have made any。〃
〃I have made one 。 。 。 a damnable one。〃
〃Why； what do you mean？〃
〃Oh； nothing。 I didn't mean to say that。 。 。 。 Helen； do you know
it is awfully good of you to take all this interest in mein my
work； I mean。 Why do you do it？〃
〃Why？〃
〃Yes； why？〃
〃Why； because Why shouldn't I？ Haven't we always talked about
your writings together； almost since we first knew each other？
Aren't we old friends？〃
There it was againfriends。 It was like a splash of cold water in
the face； at once awakening and chilling。 Albert walked on in
silence for a few moments and then began speaking of some trivial
subject entirely disconnected with himself or his work or her。
When they reached the parsonage door he said good night at once and
strode off toward home。
Back in his room； however； he gave himself another mental picking
to pieces。 He was realizing most distinctly that this sort of
thing would not do。 It was easy to say that his attitude toward
Helen Kendall was to be that of a friend and nothing more； but it
was growing harder and harder to maintain that attitude。 He had
come within a breath that very night of saying what was in his
heart。
Well； if he had said it； if he did say itwhat then？ After all；
was there any real reason why he should not say it？ It was true
that he had loved； or fancied that he loved； Madeline； that he had
been betrothed to herbut again； what of it？ Broken engagements
were common enough； and there was nothing disgraceful in this one。
Why not go to Helen and tell her that his fancied love for Madeline
had been the damnable mistake he had confessed making。 Why not
tell her that since the moment when he saw her standing in the
doorway of the parsonage on the morning following his return from
New York he had known that she was the only woman in the world for
him； that it was her image he had seen in his dreams； in the
delirium of fever； that it was she； and not that other； who
But there； all this was foolishness； and he knew it。 He did not
dare say it。 Not for one instant had she； by speech or look or
action； given him the slightest encouragement to think her feeling
for him was anything but friendship。 And that friendship was far
too precious to risk。 He must not risk it。 He must keep still； he
must hide his thoughts； she must never guess。 Some day； perhaps；
after a year or two； after his position in his profession was more
assured； then he might speak。 But even then there would be that
risk。 And the idea of waiting was not pleasant。 What had Rachel
told him concerning the hosts of doctors and officers and generals
who had been 〃shining up〃 to her。 Some risk there； also。
Well； never mind。 He would try to keep on as he had been going for
the present。 He would try not to see her as frequently。 If the
strain became unbearable he might go away somewherefor a time。
He did not go away； but he made it a point not to see her as
frequently。 However； they met often even as it was。 And he was
conscious always that the ice beneath his feet was very； very thin。
One wonderful August evening he was in his room upstairs。 He was
not writing。 He had come up there early because he wished to think；
to consider。 A proposition had been made to him that afternoon； a
surprising propositionto him it had come as a complete surprise
and before mentioning it even to his grandparents he wished to
think it over very carefully。
About ten o'clock his grandfather called to him from the foot of
the stairs and asked him to come down。
〃Mr。 Kendall's on the phone；〃 said Captain Zelotes。 〃He's worried
about Helen。 She's up to West Harniss sittin' up along of Lurany
Howes； who's been sick so long。 She ain't come home； and the old
gentleman's frettin' about her walkin' down from there alone so
late。 I told him I cal'lated you'd just as soon harness Jess and
drive up and get her。 You talk with him yourself； Al。〃
Albert did and； after assuring the nervous clergyman that he would
see that his daughter reached home safely； put on his hat and went
out to the barn。 Jessamine was asleep in her stall。 As he was
about to lead her out he suddenly remembered that one of the traces
had broken that morning and Captain Zelotes had left it at the
harness…maker's to be mended。 It was there yet。 The captain had
forgotten the fact； and so had he。 That settled the idea of using
Jessamine and the buggy。 Never mind； it was a beautiful night and
the walk was but little over a mile。
When he reached the tiny story…and…a…half Howes cottage； sitting
back from the road upon the knoll amid the tangle of silverleaf
sprouts； it was Helen herself who opened the door。 She was
surprised to see him； and when he explained his errand she was a
little vexed。
〃The idea of Father's worrying；〃 she said。 〃Such a wonderful night
as this； bright moonlight； and in South Harniss； too。 Nothing ever
happens to people in South Harniss。 I will be ready in a minute or
two。 Mrs。 Howes' niece is here now and will stay with her until
to…morrow。 Then her sister is coming to stay a month。 As soon as
I get her medicine ready we can go。〃
The door of the tiny bedroom adjoining the sitting room was open；
and Albert； sitting upon the lounge with the faded likeness of a
pink dog printed on the plush cover； could hear the querulous voice
of the invalid within。 The widow Howes was deaf and； as Laban
Keeler described it； 〃always hollered