"Forgive you! Will you forgive me for misjudging you?"
"Land sakes, don't talk that way. But there's one thing I haven't said yet and you may not like it. I guess you and your brother'll have to go to Sam and tell him the whole story."
Her expression changed. "The whole story?" she repeated. "Why, what do you mean? Tell him that Charles has been in—in prison? You don't mean THAT?"
"Um-hm," gravely; "I'm afraid I do. It looks to me as if it was the only way."
"But we can't! Oh, Mr. Winslow, we can't do that."
"I know 'twill be awful hard for you. But, when I talked to Sam about my havin' a possible candidate for the bank place, the very last thing he said was that he'd be glad to see him providin' his references was all right. I give you my word I'd never thought of references, not till then."
"But if we tell him—tell him everything, we shall only make matters worse, shan't we? Of course he won't give him the position then."
"There's a chance he won't, that's true. But Sam Hunniwell's a fine feller, there ain't any better, and he likes you and—well, he and I have been cruisin' in company for a long spell. Maybe he'll give your brother a chance to make good. I hope he will."
"You only hope? I thought you said you believed."
"Well, I do, but of course it ain't sartin. I wish 'twas."