ed into a new struggle.

She neglected her work and grew pale and listless. Brace was worried and
bewildered. He had never seen his sister in like mood and, missing
Conning from the house, he drew, finally, his own conclusions.

One day, it was nearly a week after Truedale's call, Brace came upon his
sister in the workshop over the extension. She was sitting on the
window-ledge looking out into the old garden where a magnolia tree was
in full bloom.

"Heigho, boy!" she said, welcoming him with her eyes. "I've just
discovered that spring is here. I've always been ready for it before.
This year it has taken me by surprise."

Brace came close to her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"What's the matter, girl?" he asked in his quick, blunt way.

The tears came to Lynda's eyes, but she did not shrink.

"Brother," she said slowly, "I--I want to marry Con and--I do not
dare."

Kendall dropped in the nearest chair, and stared blankly at his sister.

"Would you mind being a bit more--well, more explicit?" he faltered.

"I'm going to ask you--some questions, dear. Will you--tell me true?"

"I'll do my best." Kendall passed his hand through his hair; it seemed
to relieve the tension.

"Brace, can a man truly love many times? Perhaps not many--but
twice--truly?"

"Yes--he can!" Brace asserted boldly. "I've been in love a dozen times
myself. I always put it to the coffee-urn test--that settles it."

"Brace, I am in earnest. Do not joke."

"Joke? Good Lord! I tell you, Lyn, I am in _deadly_ earnest--deadlier
than you know. When a man puts his love three hundred and sixty-five
times a year, in fancy, behind his coffee-urn, he gets his bearings."

"You've never grown up, Brace, and I feel as old--as old as both your
grandmothers. I do not mean--puppy-love; I mean the love that cuts deep
in a man's soul. Can it cut twice?"

"If it couldn't, it would be good-bye to the future of the race!" And
now Kendall had the world's weary knowledge in his eyes.

"A woman--cannot understand that, Lyn. She must trust if she loves."

"Yes." The universal language of men struck Lynda like a strange
tongue. Had she been living all her life, she wondered, like a
foreigner--understanding merely by signs? And now that she was
close--was confronting a situation that vitally affected her
future--must she, like other women, trust, trust?

"But what has all this to do with Con?" Kendall's voice roused Lynda
sharply.

"Why--everything