r Artist
knows the boundaries.

She looked up through her tears. "I'll try to forgive you," she
said, tremulously; "but you must promise to give up your friendship
for Dick Harris."

Redding frowned and bit his lip. "That's not fair!" he said. "You
know Dick's my chum; that he hasn't the least influence over me;
that I am about the only one to stand by him."

"I am not afraid of his influence, but I don't want people to see
you together; it makes them say things."

"But, Lucy, you wouldn't have me go back on him? Dick has a big
heart; he's trying to brace up--"

"Oh, nonsense!" cried Lucy, impatiently. The fire in her eyes had
dried the tears. "He could straighten up if he wanted to. He likes
to drink and gamble, so he does it, and you keep him in countenance
by your friendship. Are you hesitating between us?" she demanded
angrily.

Redding's face was clouded, and he spoke slowly: "You wouldn't ask
this of me, Lucy, if you understood. Dick and I have been chums
since we were boys. He came to Kentucky three months ago, sick and
miserable. One day he came into the office and said, 'Bob, you 've
pulled through all right; do you think it's too late for me to
try?' What would you have said?"

"What you did, probably," answered Lucy; "but I would have profited
by the one experience, for he has hardly drawn a sober breath
since." She looked out of the window across the snowy landscape, and
in her face was something of the passionless purity of the scene
upon which her eyes rested.

"You are mistaken," he cried fiercely. "Because you have seen him
several times in that condition, you have no right to draw such a
conclusion. He is weak, nobody denies it; but what can you know of
the struggle he makes, of his eagerness to do better, of the fight
that he is constantly making with himself?"

His words fell on deaf ears.

"Then you choose Mr. Harris?"

"Lucy, this is madness; it is not like you in the least!"

The girl was cold with anger and excitement. "It is bad enough," she
said, "to know that my defense of you last night was worse than
useless, but to have you persist in a friendship with a man who is
beneath you in every way is more than I can stand." She slipped a
ring from her finger, and held it toward him. "I could never marry a
man of whom I was ashamed."

The shot went home; there was a white line about Redding's mouth as
he turned away.

"I would not ask you to," he said, with simple dignity, as he