"You have done very well, if you will let me say so," he began,
gently. "I hope you are right in what you said, and that Mr. Lockwood
will not meet with a rebuff or an ungracious answer. Why," he went on
quickly, "I have seen him take out his gun now every spring and every
fall for the last ten years and clean and polish it and tell what
great shots he and Henry, as he calls him, used to be. And then he
would say he would take a holiday and get off for a little shooting.
But he never went. He would put the gun back into its case again and
mope in his library for days afterward. You see, he never married, and
though he adopted me, in a manner, and is fond of me in a certain way,
no one ever took the place in his heart his old friend had held."
"You will let me know, will you not, at once,--to-night, even,--
whether he succeeds or not?" said the cynical Miss Catherwaight. "You
can understand why I am so deeply interested. I see now why you said I
would not tell the story of that medal. But, after all, it may be the
prettiest story, the only pretty story I have to tell."
Mr. Lockwood had not returned, the man said, when young Latimer
reached the home the lawyer had made for them both.
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