To understand her, it was
perhaps necessary to understand him, and if I could not hope to do this
offhand, I could not fail to get some idea of the man from even the most
casual look.

He was, as I soon learned, the fetcher and carrier of the small menage;
and the day came when I met him face to face in the street where they
lived. Did he disappoint me; or did I see something in his appearance
to justify her desertion of her father's home and her present life of
poverty? If I say Yes to the first question, I must also say it to the
last. If handsome once, he was not handsome now; but with a personality
such as his, this did not matter. He had that better thing--that
greatest gift of the gods--charm. It was in his bearing, his movement,
the regard of his weary eye; more than that it was in his very nature or
it would have vanished long ago under disappointment and privation.

But that was all there was to the man,--a golden net in which my
sister's youthful fancy had been caught and no doubt held meshed to
this very day. I felt less like blaming her for her folly, after that
instant's view of him as we passed each other in the street. But, as I
took time to think, I found myself growing sorrier and sorrier for her
and yet, in a way, gladder and gladder, for the man was a physical wreck
and would soon pass out of her life leaving her to my love and possibly
to our father's forgiveness.

But I did not know Theresa. After her husband's death, which occurred
very soon, she let me come to her and we had a long talk--Shall I ever
forget it or the sight of her beauty in that sordid room? For, account
for it as you will, the loveliness which had fled under her sense of
complete isolation had slowly regained its own with the recognition that
she still had a place in the heart of her little sister. Not even the
sorrow she felt for the loss of her suffering husband--and she did mourn
him; this I am glad to say--could more than temporarily stay this. Six
months of ease and wholesome food would make her--I hardly dared to
think what. For I knew, without asking her, or she telling me, that
she would accept neither; that she was as determined now, as ever that
nothing which came directly or indirectly from Father should go to the
rebuilding of her life. That she intended to start anew and work her way
up to a place where I should be glad to see her she did say. But
nothing more. She was still the sister-mother, loving, but sufficient