The one opened the door with a latch-key and went in, followed by a young fellowwho awkwardly removed his cap. He wore rough clothes that smacked of the sea, and he was manifestly out of place in the spacious hall in which he found himself.He did not know what to do with his cap, and was stuffing it into his coat pocketwhen the other took it from him. The act was done quietly and naturally, and theawkward young fellow appreciated it. "He understands," was his thought. "He'll seeme through all right."He walked at the other's heels with a swing to his shoulders, and his legs spreadunwittingly, as if the level floors were tilting up and sinking down to the heave andlunge of the sea. The wide rooms seemed too narrow for his rolling gait, and tohimself he was in terror lest his broad shoulders should collide with the doorwaysor sweep the bric-a-brac from the low mantel. He recoiled from side to sidebetween the various objects and multiplied the hazards that in reality lodged onlyin his mind. Between a grand piano and a centre-table piled high with books wasspace for a half a dozen to walk abreast, yet he essayed it with trepidation. Hisheavy arms hung loosely at his sides. He did not know what to do with those armsand hands, and when, to his excited vision, one arm seemed liable to brush againstthe books on the table, he lurched away like a frightened horse, barely missing thepiano stool. He watched the easy walk of the other in front of him, and for the firsttime realized that his walk was different from that of other men. He experienced amomentary pang of shame that he should walk so uncouthly. The sweat burstthrough the skin of his forehead in tiny beads, and he paused and mopped hisbronzed face with his handkerchief."Hold on, Arthur, my boy," he said, attempting to mask his anxiety with facetiousutterance. "This is too much all at once for yours truly. Give me a chance to get mynerve. You know I didn't want to come, an' I guess your fam'ly ain't hankerin' to seeme neither.""That's all right," was the reassuring answer. "You mustn't be frightened at us. We'rejust homely people-Hello, there's a letter for me."He stepped back to the table, tore open the envelope, and began to read, giving thestranger an opportunity to recover himself. And the stranger understood andappreciated. His was the gift of sympathy, understanding; and beneath his alarmedexterior that sympathetic process went on. He mopped his forehead dry andglanced about him with a controlled face, though in the eyes there was an 5expression such as wild animals betray when they fear the trap. He was surroundedby the unknown, apprehensive of what might happen, ignorant of what he shoulddo, aware that he walked and bore himself awkwardly, fearful that every attributeand power of him was similarly afflicted. He was keenly sensitive, hopelessly selfconscious, and the amused glance that the other stole privily at him over the top ofthe letter burned into him like a dagger-thrust. He saw the glance, but he gave nosign, for among the things he had learned was discipline. Also, that dagger-thrustwent to his pride. He cursed himself for having come, and at the same timeresolved that, happen what would, having come, he would carry it through. Thelines of his face hardened, and into his eyes came a fighting light. He looked aboutmore unconcernedly, sharply observant, every detail of the pretty interiorregistering itself on his brain. His eyes were wide apart; nothing in their field ofvision escaped; and as they drank in the beauty before them the fighting light diedout and a warm glow took its place. He was responsive to beauty, and here wascause to respond