"I'm glad you've told me about it, and I shall watch the progress of the work with interest. Al though I can't say that I entirely agree with you. Here and there is a woman who more than makes amends for whatever trouble her sisters have caused. One, for instance, with golden hair, and eyes that when they weep—"
"You're young," interrupted the little man, ris ing. "There ain't no use to debate it with you. I might as well try to argue with a storm at sea. Some men keep the illusion to the end of their days, and I hope you're one. I reckon I'll start your fire."
He went into the outer room, and Mr. Magee lay for a few moments listening to his prepara tions about the fireplace. This was comfort, he thought. And yet, something was wrong. Was it the growing feeling of emptiness inside? Un doubtedly. He sat up in bed and leaning over, gazed into the hermit's basket. The packages he saw there made his feeling of emptiness the more acute.
"I say, Mr. Peters," he cried, leaping from bed and running into the other room, where the her-
