"Can't we do something for him, between us?" she asked earnestly.
"We must," Huntington assented with decision. "I am still puzzling over the problem. Have you anything to suggest?"
Mrs. Thatcher did not reply at once, and Huntington respected her silence. He realized that her answer could not be given spontaneously, that the proposition was too vital for anything but the most serious consideration. As a matter of fact, however, she had already considered it. Marian Thatcher was a woman of strong impulses, with strength of will equal to carry them through to success. She had been appalled by Hamlen's condition, and felt keenly her personal responsibility. During the hours which had intervened since the accidental meeting, many of them sleepless hours of the night, she had searched her mind for some expedient which should in part work restitution. She had discovered a possible solution, but it was of a nature so intimate that she hesitated to take Huntington into her confidence.
"I had thought—" she began at length, but then she paused. "We must pull him out of himself," she began again; "we must get him where he will find something to think of other than himself."
"Suppose that to be accomplished, what then?"
"I had thought—he needs—he needs a woman who believes in him, to give him courage, to restore his lost faith in himself. A friendship such as you or any other man can give will help much, but if the right woman could happen to come into his life—"
"Isn't that taking too long a step for a first one? Huntington inquired.
"Perhaps; but I feel myself so largely responsible that it would mean much to me to atone—"
Marian's intensity made its impression upon Huntington even as it had upon Hamlen; but he could not follow her. How a married woman could make atonement just at this crisis was not clearly apparent. She realized that her stumbling remarks must be confusing.
"It is difficult for me to tell you just what I have in mind," she stated definitely at length. "You don't know me well enough not to misunderstand, and you don't know Merry. But if I am to accept your aid I must run that risk, mustn't I?"