Brandon of the Engineers

"If you'd looked at the thing differently and shown a little kindness, it

would have cut me to the quick," Dick said hoarsely. "I'm not a thief and

a traitor, though I've been a fool, and it hurts to know what you think.

I'm going away to-morrow and I'll get on, somehow, without your help. I

don't know that I'll come back if you do send for me."

"You don't seem to understand your position, but you may come to realize

it before very long," Brandon replied.

He got up and Dick left the library; but he did not sleep that night. It

had been hard to meet his father and what he said had left a wound that

would take long to heal. Now he must say good-by to Helen. This would

need courage, but Dick meant to see her. It was the girl's right that she

should hear his story, and he would not steal away like a cur. He did not

think Helen was really fond of him, though he imagined that she would

have acquiesced in her relatives' plans for them both had things been

different. Now, of course, that was done with, but he must say good-by

and she might show some regret or sympathy. He did not want her to

suffer, but he did not think she would feel the parting much; and she

would not treat him as his father had done.

When he called the next morning at an old country house, he was told that

Miss Massie was in the garden, and going there, he stopped abruptly at a

gap in a shrubbery. Beyond the opening there was a stretch of smooth

grass, checkered by moving shadow, and at one side a row of gladioli

glowed against the paler bloom of yellow dahlias. Helen Massie held a

bunch of the tall crimson spikes, and Dick thought as he watched her with

a beating heart that she was like the flowers. They were splendid in form

and color, but there was nothing soft or delicate in their aggressive

beauty. Helen's hair was dark and her color high, her black eyes were

bright, and her yellow dress showed a finely outlined form. Dick knew

that she was proud, resolute, and self-confident.

Then she turned her head and saw him, and he knew that she had heard of

his disgrace, for her color deepened and her glance was rather hard than

sympathetic. The hand that held the flowers dropped to her side, but she

waited until he came up.

"I see you know, and it doesn't matter who told you," he said. "I felt I

had to come before I went away."

"Yes," she answered calmly, "I heard. You have courage, Dick; but perhaps

a note would have been enough, and more considerate."