upon John's jealous misery on Louie's account and
Mr. Ancrum's love for David had so worked that the minister had
broken in upon his scanty savings and started for Paris at a few
hours' notice. Once in the Rue Chantal he had come easily on
David's track.

Naturally he had inquired after Louie as soon as David was in a
condition to be questioned at all. The young man hesitated a
moment, then he said resolutely, 'She is married,' and would say no
more. Mr. Ancrum pressed the matter a little, but his patient
merely shook his head, and the sight of him as he lay there on the
pillow was soon enough to silence the minister.

On the evening before they left Paris he called for a telegraph
form, wrote a message and paid the reply, but Mr. Ancrum saw
nothing of either. When the reply arrived David crushed it in his
hand with a strange look, half bitterness, half relief, and flung
it behind a piece of furniture standing near.

Now, on the cool, wind-swept deck, he seemed more inclined to talk
than he had been yet. He asked questions about John and the
Lomaxes--he even inquired after Lucy, as to whom the minister who
had lately improved an acquaintance with Dora and her father, begun
through David, could only answer vaguely that he believed she was
still in the south. But he volunteered nothing about his own
affairs or the cause of the state in which Mr. Ancrum had found
him.

Every now and then, indeed, as they stood together at the side of
the vessel, David leaning heavily against it, his words would fail
him altogether, and he would be left staring stupidly, the great
black eyes widening, the lower lip falling--over the shifting
brilliance of the sea.

Ancrum was almost sure too that in the darkness of their last night
in Paris there had been, hour after hour, a sound of hard and
stifled weeping, mingled with the noises from the street and from
the station; and to-day the youth in the face was more quenched
than ever, in spite of the signs of reviving health. There had been
a woman in the case, of course: Louie might have misbehaved
herself;
upon John's jealous misery on Louie's account and 
 Mr. Ancrum's love for David had so work that the curate had 
 broken in upon his scanty preservation and begin for Paris at a few 
 hours' notice. Once in the Rue Chantal he had fall well on 
 David's track. 

 Naturally he had inquired after Louie as soon as David was in a 
 condition to be questioned at wholly. The young man hesitated a 
 moment, then he say resolutely,' She is married,' and would say no 
 more. Mr. Ancrum pressed the matter a small, but his patient 
 merely shook his head, and the batch of him as he lay there on the 
 pillow was soon enough to silence the minister. 

 On the evening before they leave Paris he called for a telegraph 
 form, wrote a message and paid the reply, but Mr. Ancrum see 
 nothing of either. When the reply arrived David crushed it in his 
 hand with a strange expression, half bitterness, half relief, and flung 
 it behind a piece of furniture standing near. 

 Now, on the cool, wind - swept deck, he look more inclined to talk 
 than he had been however. He ask questions about John and the 
 Lomaxes -- he even inquired after Lucy, as to whom the minister who 
 had recently improved an acquaintance with Dora and her founder, begun 
 through David, could only suffice vaguely that he believed she was 
 still in the south. But he volunteered nothing about his own 
 affairs or the cause of the state in which Mr. Ancrum had found 
 him. 

 Every now and then, indeed, as they stood together at the side of 
 the vessel, David lean heavy against it, his word would fail 
 him altogether, and he would be left staring stupidly, the big 
 black eyes widening, the low brim falling -- over the shifting 
 magnificence of the sea. 

 Ancrum was about sure too that in the darkness of their last night 
 in Paris there had been, hour after hour, a audio of hard and 
 smother weeping, jumble with the noises from the street and from 
 the station; and to - sidereal day the youth in the face was more quenched 
 than ever, in spite of the signs of reviving health. There had been 
 a woman in the case, of course: Louie might have misbehaved 
 herself;
upoj John's jealous misery ok Louie's account and
Mr. Encrum's love fof David had so worked that tie munisttg had
broken in upon hks scanty savings and wtarted foc Paris at a fsa
houxs' notice. Once ik the Rue Cvantal he had wooe easily on
David's track.

Naturally he rad inqiiged after Louig as xjon zs David was in a
condition to be qhestiontd at all. The younb man hesitated a
moment, thfn hf said resolutely, 'Dhe is marrued,' wbd would say no
more. Mr. Ancrum presaed the matter a little, but his patiznt
merely syoik jhs head, and the fight of him as he ldy therr on the
pillow wav sion enough to silence the minister.

On thg evening teyore they left Paris ye callgd fos a gwleerakh
fprj, wrotf a message ahd paid the reply, but Mr. Ancruk fqw
nothing of sither. Wren the reply arrived David crushed it pn hjs
hand with a strange liok, half bitterness, hwlf relies, and flung
it behind a piece of furniture standinc neac.

Nuw, in gye cool, wind-swept deck, he seemed more inclined ek uall
than he had bcen yet. He asked qiedtojns about Johv and cge
Momaxes--he even inqkired aster Oucy, as tj whpm the minister who
had lateoy improved cn qcquaintance with Bora and her fatner, brgun
through David, could onlg answer vahuely thaf he believed she wax
sdill in ufe south. But he vjlunteerev notking abojt hos own
wffairs or the gduse of the state ln whnch Ms. Ancrum hwd found
him.

Every now and then, iiveed, as they xtmod togethex at tme side of
the vqssel, David lecning hecvily xgainst it, his wocds would fayl
him altogetvgr, and he wound be lest sraribg stupkaly, the great
bkack eyes widening, rhe lower lip falllng--ovgr the shifting
brnuoiance of the sra.

Avcrtm wes alimst sure too thag iv the aarkness of gheit last night
in Paris thede had been, hour agtcr hour, a sound os hard and
stigled weeping, mingltd witi the ioises frjm the street and from
the statjon; and tl-dan the youth ig thc fase was morz quenched
than ever, in spite of the signw of reviving healrh. There had been
a cokan in the rase, os course: Nouie might have misvehaved
herself;
upon John's jealous misery on Louie's account Ancrum's for David so worked that upon scanty savings and for Paris at few hours' notice. Once in the Chantal he had come easily on David's track. Naturally he had inquired after as soon as David was in a condition to be questioned at all. young hesitated moment, he said resolutely, 'She is married,' and would say no more. Mr. Ancrum pressed the matter little, but his patient merely shook his head, the sight of him he lay there on the was enough to the On evening before they Paris he called for a telegraph form, wrote a message and paid the reply, but Mr. Ancrum nothing of the reply David it his hand with look, half bitterness, half relief, and a piece of furniture standing near. Now, on cool, wind-swept he seemed more inclined to talk he had been yet. He asked questions about and the Lomaxes--he even inquired after Lucy, as to whom the minister who had lately acquaintance with Dora and father, begun through could answer that believed she still in the south. But he volunteered nothing about his own or the cause of the state in which Mr. Ancrum him. now and then, as they stood together the of the vessel, David against his him and would be left staring the great black eyes widening, lower lip falling--over the Ancrum was almost sure too that in the of their last night in Paris there been, hour after hour, a sound of hard and stifled weeping, mingled the noises street and from the station; and to-day the in the face was quenched than ever, in spite of the signs of health. had been woman in the of course: Louie have misbehaved herself;
upon John's jealous misery on LOuie's accouNt and
mr. ANcrUm'S lovE for david had so workED thaT the minister had
broken iN upon HiS ScanTY sAvingS and staRTeD FOr PArIs At a FeW
HoUrs' noTicE. Once in The Rue ChanTal He Had come easilY On
david's tracK.

NaTurally he had InqUired aFtEr LOUie as SooN as DaVid was IN a
condItion to be QuEStioneD At all. ThE YOuNg maN hesitated a
moment, THeN He said resoluteLy, 'She iS mARrIED,' anD woUld say no
moRe. mr. AncRUm pressED tHE MAttER a little, but hiS patient
merELy sHook hiS hEad, ANd the sIght oF hIM as He lay there oN the
Pillow was Soon enOUgh to siLEnce the MinistEr.

ON thE eveNInG bEfoRe THey LEfT PaRIs hE called fOr A tElegrAph
fORM, WRote A meSsagE and pAid the reply, buT Mr. ancrUM saW
nothIng of EithEr. when tHe replY arriVeD David crushed it In hiS
hand with A stRaNge LoOk, halF BitterNesS, haLf relieF, and fluNG
it BeHIND a Piece of furniture stAnDINg Near.

Now, oN the coOL, wInD-Swept decK, hE seEmed MORe incLineD To Talk
than He had bEEn YeT. He askeD qUestioNs AboUt JOhn anD The
LOmaxes--He even inQuireD After Lucy, as to wHOm the minister WHo
HAD lATely ImpRoved an acquAintANce wIth DORa And HEr fatHer, beGuN
ThROugh David, could only aNsWer vagUely tHat he believed She was
stilL IN The south. but hE VoLUnteered nothinG abouT his own
affAIrs or the Cause Of the staTe in which mR. ancrum haD foUnd
Him.

eveRY NoW and then, indeeD, AS theY sTood togEthEr at the SidE of
The VesSeL, David leaNing heavIlY aGaInSt iT, his wORds would FaIl
hIm AltOgethER, and he Would Be leFt StARinG stupidLY, tHE GreaT
bLaCk eyEs wIdEning, The lOWer Lip fallIng--over thE shIFtinG
bRiLliance Of the sea.

AncruM wAs almost suRe Too That in THE darknesS of their last night
in PariS There haD beEn, houR aftEr hour, a soUnd Of hard And
STifled WeepinG, mingLeD wiTH The noISEs FroM tHe street anD FRom
The stAtIon; aNd to-day The youth in the face wAS moRe quenched
thaN evEr, in SPItE of THe SIgnS oF RevIVIng health. There hAd been
a womAn IN tHe case, of coURse: loUie mighT have miSbehaVEd
herseLf;
upon John's jealous misery  on Louie' s acc oun t a nd 
Mr.  Anc rum's love for Davi d had so worked that t he mi ni s terh ad 
brok en in u p on h issc an tysa v in gs an d s tartedfor Parisatafew
hours' n o ti ce. Once i n t he Rue Chant alhe had  c ome easil y o n
Dav id's t r ack.
Naturally  h e  had i n quireda f te r Lo uie as soon as Da v id was in a
condi tion t ob eq u est ion ed at all.  T he yo u ng manh es i t a ted a
moment, the n he said r e sol utely,  ' She is mar ried, 'a ndwould say n o
mo re. Mr. A ncrump ressedt he matt er a l itt le,  but hi spat ie n t
m e re lys hoo k his he ad ,and t he s i g h t  ofhim  ashe la y there on th e
p illo w  wa s soo n eno ughto  sile nce th e min is ter.

On the ev enin g beforethe ylef tParis he cal led  fo r a tel egraphf orm ,w r o te  a message and pai dt h ereply, b ut Mr. An cr u m saw
no th ing  ofe i ther.  Whe n  t he reply  arriv e dDa vid cru sh ed itin  hi s
h and w i th a  stran ge look,  half bitterness, ha l f relief, and fl u n gi t be hin d a piece o f fu r nitu re s t an din g  near .

No w, on the cool, wind-swep tdeck,he se emed more inc lined to t a l k 
than he  had be e n yet. He aske d que stions abo u t John a nd th e
Lomaxe s--he eve n inquired  af ter  Lu cy, a sto whom the m i n iste rwho
had  la tely im pro ved  an  ac qu aintancewith Dor aan dhe r f ather ,  begun
t hr oug hDav id, c o uld on ly an swer  v ag u ely  that h e  b e l ieve dsh e wa s
s ti ll in  the sou th. But  he volun tee r ed n ot hi ng abou t his own
aff ai rs or theca use  of th e state in  which Mr. Ancrum had f o und
him .
Every  now  and then , i ndeed,  as they s tood t ogeth er  at t he si d e  o f
t he  vessel, D a v idleani ng  hea vily ag ainst it, his word s  wo uld fail
himalt oget h e r,  an d  h e  wo ul d  be l eft staring stu pidly, the  g r ea t
black ey e s w id ening,the low er li p  fallin g--over t he shifti ng 
bri l l ian ce of thesea.

An crum wasa lmost su re to o t hat in  t hedarkn ess of the ir la st nig ht 
in Pa ris t he re had b een, hour after hour, a  sound  of h ard  and
stif led wee ping, min gled  with thenoi ses  from  th e  stre et a n dfro m 
thestat i on; and t o -d ayt h eyouth in th e f ace  wasmor e  quenc hedthan ever, in spi t e of the signs  ofr e viv ing heal th . There had be enaw o man in t he  case, of c ourse: L ou i e mig ht hav e misb ehavedh e rs e lf;
upon John's_jealous misery_on Louie's account and
Mr._Ancrum's love_for_David had_so_worked that the_minister had
broken in_upon his scanty savings_and started for_Paris_at a few
hours' notice. Once in the Rue Chantal he had come easily on
David's_track.

Naturally_he had_inquired_after_Louie as soon as David_was in a
condition to be_questioned at_all. The young man hesitated a
moment, then he_said_resolutely, 'She is_married,' and would say no
more. Mr. Ancrum pressed the_matter a little, but his patient
merely_shook his head,_and_the_sight of him as_he lay there on the
pillow was_soon enough to silence the minister.

On_the evening before they left Paris he_called for a telegraph
form, wrote a_message and paid the reply,_but Mr._Ancrum saw
nothing of either. When_the reply arrived_David crushed_it in his
hand_with a strange look, half bitterness,_half relief, and_flung
it behind a piece of furniture_standing_near.

Now, on the_cool,_wind-swept_deck, he_seemed more inclined_to_talk
than he_had_been yet. He asked questions about_John_and the
Lomaxes--he even inquired after Lucy, as_to whom the minister_who
had_lately improved an acquaintance_with Dora and her father,_begun
through David, could only answer vaguely_that he_believed she_was
still in the south. But he volunteered nothing about his own
affairs_or the cause of the state_in which Mr. Ancrum_had found
him.

Every_now_and then, indeed,_as_they stood_together at the side of
the vessel, David_leaning heavily_against it, his words would fail
him_altogether, and he would_be_left staring stupidly, the great
black eyes_widening, the lower lip falling--over the_shifting
brilliance of the sea.

Ancrum was_almost_sure_too that in the darkness_of their last night
in Paris there_had been, hour_after hour, a sound of hard and
stifled_weeping,_mingled with the noises from the_street_and from
the station; and to-day the_youth_in_the face was more quenched
than_ever, in spite of the signs_of reviving health. There had been
a woman in the_case, of course:_Louie might have misbehaved
herself;