"That would be one way to make an interview brief, if such were my desire. I can not say, however, that that phase of the subject troubles me any. Well, I will take your advice, and put a large portion of my thought into a short sentence: I wish you could and would do something for Harry Matthews."
It was not in the least what she had expected. She supposed his words were to preface a flattering invitation, or something of that character. An apparently earnest sentence, concerning a merry young fellow in whom she was already somewhat interested, filled her with surprise, and kept her silent.
"Is that brief and abrupt enough?" he asked, and then, without waiting for answer, continued: "I mean it, strange as it may seem; and I so rarely do unselfish things that I can imagine it seems strange enough. I haven't a personal thought in the matter. Harry is a good fellow; a little fast, the old ladies say, and shake their heads, but they don't know what they mean by that. The boy is a favorite of mine; and he is one who has a good deal of force of character without any will-power, if that is not a contradiction. I fancy you know what I mean. I am going to speak more plainly now. Away back in some former generation—no, I am going to tell the naked truth. Do you know anything of his family, Miss Benedict?"
"Not anything."
"Well, his father was a good man and a drunkard. You think that is another contradiction of terms. Perhaps it is, as you would mean it, but not as I do. He was a good, warm-hearted, whole-souled man, and he drank himself into his grave; shipwrecked his property, and left his widow and this boy dependant on wealthy relatives, or on themselves. Harry is trying to be a man, and works hard, and is specially tempted in the line at which I have hinted. I feel afraid for him, and the only person in this little wretch of a village whom I think might help him is yourself. Will you try?"
"Mr. Ansted, why don't you help him?"
It was his turn to be taken aback. He had not expected this answer. He had looked for an instant and interested affirmative, and he had expected to tell her more of Harry Matthews, and of his peculiar associations and temptations.
"I!" he said, and then he laughed. "Miss Benedict, you are most remarkable as regards your talent for asking strange questions. It is evident that you are a stranger in South Plains; and I don't know what the gossips have been about, that they have not posted you better. You should know that I am really the last person in the neighborhood who is expected to help anybody; least of all, can I help Harry Matthews. The most helpful thing that I can think of for the boy is to keep away from me. My influence over him is altogether bad, and growing worse. What he needs is to be drawn away from present associations entirely, and, indeed, from his present associates, of which I am often one. I fancy that this organization of yours, in which he is already interested, might be managed in a way to help him, and it occurred to me to enlighten you in regard to him, and ask for your helping hand."