"Fit-as-a-fiddle," said Aladdin, slowly, as the wonder grew. And then he began to cry like a little child. Manners waited till he had done, and then wiped his face for him.

"So you see," said Manners, simply, though with difficulty,--for he was a man shy, to terror, of discussing his own feelings,--"I can't help liking you now, and--and I hope you won't feel so hard toward me any more."

"I feel hard toward you!" said Aladdin. "Oh, Manners!" he cried. "I thought all along that you were just a man that knew about horses and dogs, but I see, I see; and I'm not going to worship anybody any more except you and G.o.d, I'm not!"

Then he had another great long, hot cry. Manners waited patiently till it was over.

"Manners," said Aladdin, in a choky, hoa.r.s.e voice, "I think you're different from what you used to be. You look as if--as if you 'd got the love of mankind in you."

Manners did not answer. He appeared to be thinking of something wonderful.

"Do you think that's it?" cried Aladdin.

Manners did not answer.

"Can't I get it, too?" Aladdin cried. "Have I got to be little and mean always? So help me, Manners, I don't love any one but you and her."

"You 're not fit to talk," said Manners, with great gentleness. "You go to sleep." He arose, and going to the door of the house, opened it a little way and looked out.

"It's warm as toast out, Aladdin," he called. "There's going to be a big thaw." He closed the door and went into the next room, and Aladdin could hear him talking to the horse. After a little he came back.

"Greener says that she never was better stalled," he said.

"Manners," said Aladdin, "have I been raving?"

"Not been riding quite straight," said Manners.

"How soon are we going to start?" said Aladdin.

"We've got to wait till the snow's pretty well melted," said Manners.

"About noon, I think."

Then, because he was very tired and sick and weak, and perhaps a trifle delirious, Aladdin asked Manners if he would mind holding his hand.

Manners took the hand in his, and a thrill ran up Aladdin's arm and all over him, till it settled deliciously about his heart, and he slept.

The sun rose, and dazzling beams of light filled the room.

BOOK II

"In this combat no man can imagine, unless he had seen and heard as I did, what yelling and hideous roaring Apollyon made all the time of the fight, he spake like a Dragon; and on the other side, what sighs and groans burst from Christian's heart. I never saw him all the while give so much as one pleasant look, till he perceived he had wounded Apollyon with his two-edged sword: then indeed he did smile and look upward."

XIX

Senator St. John, attended by Margaret, her maid, and a physician, had made the arduous journey from Washington to Portland without too much fatigue, and it seemed reasonable to suppose that a long rest in his comfortable house, far from the turmoil of public affairs, would do much to reinstate his body after the savage attack of gout with complications to which it had been subjected during six long weeks. Arrived at Portland, he was driven to the house of his old friend Mr. Blankinship, and helped to bed. Next morning he was seized with acute pains in the region of the heart, and though his valiant mind refused for a single moment to tolerate the thought that the end might be near, was persuaded to send for his daughter and his sons.

Margaret was in the parlor with Aladdin. It was April, and the whole land dripped. Through the open window, for the day was warm, the moisture of the soaked ground and trees was almost audible. Margaret had much to say to Aladdin, and he to her; they had not met for several months.

"I want to hear about Peter," said Aladdin--"all about him. He met you, of course, and got you across the city?"

"Yes, and his father came, too," said Margaret. "Such an old dear--you never saw him, did you? He's taller than Peter, but much thinner, and a great aristocrat. He's the only man I ever saw that has more presence than papa. He looks like a fine old bird, and you can see his skull very plainly--especially when he laughs, if you know what I mean. And he's really witty. He knows all about you and wants you to go and stay with them sometime." Aladdin sighed for the pure delight of hearing Margaret's voice running on and on. He was busy looking at her, and did not pay the slightest attention to what she said. "And the girl came to lunch, Aladdin, and she is so pretty, but not a bit serene like Peter, and the men are all wild about her, but she doesn't care that--"

"Doesn't she?" said Aladdin, annoyingly.

"No, she doesn't!" said Margaret, tartly. "She says she's going to be a horse-breaker or a nurse, and all the while she kept making eyes at brother John, and he lost his poise entirely and smirked and blushed, and I shouldn't wonder a bit if he'd made up his mind to marry her, and if he has he will--"

Aladdin caught at the gist of the last sentence. "Is that all that's necessary?" he said. "Has a man only got to make up his mind to marry a certain girl?"

"It's all brother John would have to do," said Margaret, provokingly.

"Admitting that," said Aladdin, "how about the other men?"

"Why," said Margaret, "I suppose that if a man really and truly makes up his mind to get the girl he wants, he'll get her."

She looked at him with a grand innocence. Aladdin's heart leaped a little.

"But suppose two men made up their minds," said Aladdin, "to get the same girl."

"That would just prove the rule," said Margaret, refusing to see any personal application, "because one of them would get her, and the other would be the exception."

"Would the one who spoke first have an advantage?" said Aladdin.

"Suppose he'd wanted her ever so long, and had tried to succeed because of her, and"--he was warming to the subject, which meant much to him--"had never known that there was any other girl in the world, and had pinned all his faith and hope on her, would he have any advantage?"

"I don't know," said Margaret, rather dreamily.

"Because if he would--" Aladdin reached forward and took one of her hands in his two.

She let it lie there, and for a moment they looked into each other's eyes. Margaret withdrew her hand.

"I know--I know," she said. "But you mustn't say it, 'Laddin dear, because--somehow I feel that there are heaps of things to be considered before either of us ought to think of that. And how can we be quite sure? Anyway, if it's going to happen--it will happen. And that's all I'm going to say, 'Laddin."

"Tell me," he said gently, "what the trouble is, dear. Is it this: do you think you care for me, and aren't sure? Is that it?"

She nodded gravely. Aladdin took a long breath.

"Well," he said finally, "I believe I love you well enough, Margaret, to hope that you get the man who will make you happiest. I don't know," he went on rather gloomily, "that I'm exactly calculated to make anybody happy, but," he concluded, with a quavering smile, "I'd like to try."

They shook hands like the two very old friends they were.

"We'll always be that, anyway," said Margaret.