at me about that."
"It would be because I cared for her—"
"Certainly! You didn't suppose I expected you to interfere from any other motive?"
He stood looking at her in stupefaction, with his hand on his hat and stick, like a man who doubts whether he has heard aright. Presently a shiver passed over him, another light came into his eyes, and he said quietly, "I'm going out to see Atherton."
"To-night?" said his sister, accepting provisionally, as women do, the apparent change of subject. "Don't go to-night, Ben! You're too tired."
"I'm not tired. I intended to see him to-night, at any rate. I want to talk over this South American scheme with him." He put on his hat, and moved quickly toward the door.
"Ask him about the Hubbards," said Olive. "Perhaps he can tell you something."
"I don't want to know anything. I shall ask him nothing."
She slipped between him and the door. "Ben, you haven't heard anything against poor Marcia, have you?"
"No!"
"You don't think she's to blame in any way for his going wrong, do you?
"How could I?"
"Then I don't understand why you won't do anything to help her."
He looked at her again, and opened his lips to speak once, but closed them before he said, "I've got my own affairs to worry me. Isn't that reason enough for not interfering in theirs?"
"Not for you, Ben."
"Then I don't choose to mix myself up in other people's misery. I don't like it, as you once said."
"But you can't help it sometimes, as you said."
"I can this time, Olive. Don't you see,—" he began.
"I see there's something you won't tell me. But I shall find it out." She threatened him half playfully.
"I wish you could," he answered. "Then perhaps you'd let me know." She opened the door for him now, and as he passed out he said gently, "I am tired, but I sha'n't begin to rest till I have had this talk with Atherton. I had better go."
"Yes," Olive assented, "you'd better." She added in banter, "You're altogether too mysterious to be of much comfort at home."
The family heard him close the outside door behind him after Olive came back to them, and she explained, "He's gone out to talk it over with Mr. Atherton."
His father gave a laugh of relief. "Well, if he leaves it to Atherton, I guess we needn't worry about it."
"The child isn't at all well," said his mother.
XXXIII
Halleck met Atherton at the door of his room with his hat and coat on. "Why, Halleck! I was just going to see if you had come home!"
"You needn't now," said Halleck, pushing by him into the room. "I want to see you, Atherton, on business."
Atherton took off his hat, and closed the door with one hand, while he slipped the other arm out of his overcoat sleeve. "Well, to tell the truth, I was going to mingle a little business myself with the pleasure of seeing you." He turned up the gas in his drop-light, and took the chair from which he had looked across the table at Halleck, when they talked there before. "It's the old subject," he said, with a sense of repetition in the situation. "I learn from Witherby that Hubbard has taken that money of yours out of the Events, and from what I hear elsewhere he is making ducks and drakes of it on election bets. What shall you do about it?"
"Nothing," said Halleck.
"Oh! Very well," returned Atherton, with the effect of being a little snubbed, but resolved to take his snub professionally. He broke out, however, in friendly exasperation: "Why in the world did you lend the fellow that money?"
Halleck lifted his brooding eyes, and fixed them half pleadingly, half defiantly upon his friend's face. "I did it for his wife's sake."
"Yes, I know," returned Atherton. "I remember how you felt. I couldn't share your feeling, but I respected it. However, I doubt if your loan was a benefit to either of them. It probably tempted him to count upon money that he hadn't earned, and that's always corrupting."
"Yes," Halleck replied. "But I can't say that, so far as he's concerned, I'm very sorry. I don't suppose it would do her any good if I forced him to disgorge any balance he may have left from his wagers?"
"No, hardly."
"Then I shall let him alone."
The subject was dismissed, and Atherton waited for Halleck to speak of the business on which he had come. But Halleck only played with the paper cutter which his left hand had found on the table near him, and, with his chin sunk on his breast, seemed lost in an unhappy reverie.
"I hope you won't accuse yourself of doing him an injury," said Atherton, at last, with a smile.
"Injury?" demanded Halleck, quickly. "What injury? How?"
"By lending him that money."
"Oh! I had forgotten that; I wasn't thinking of it," returned Halleck impatiently. "I was thinking of something different. I'm aware of disliking the man so much, that I should be willing to have greater harm than that happen to him,—the greatest, for what I know. Though I don't know, after all, that it would be harm. In another life, if there is one, he might start in a new direction; but that isn't imaginable of him here; he can only go from bad to worse; he can only make more and more sorrow and shame. Why shouldn't one wish him dead, when his death could do nothing but good?"
"I suppose you don't expect me to answer such a question seriously."
"But suppose I did?"
"Then I should say that no man ever wished any such good as that, except from the worst motive; and the less one has to do with such questions, even as abstractions, the better."
"You're right," said Halleck. "But why do you call it an abstraction?"
"Because, in your case, nothing else is conceivable."
"I told you I was willing the worst should happen to him."
"And I didn't believe you."
Halleck lay back in his chair, and laughed wearily. "I wish I could convince somebody of my wickedness. But it seems to be useless to try. I say things that ought to raise the roof, both to you here and to Olive at home, and you tell me you don't believe me, and she tells me that Mrs. Hubbard thinks me a saint. I suppose now, that if I took you by the button-hole and informed you confidentially that I had stopped long enough at 129 Clover Street to put Bartley Hubbard quietly out of the way, you wouldn't send for a policeman."
"I should send for a doctor," said Atherton.
"Such
