d
a brother in the country, and once he had been to see us when I was very
little, and the doctor telegraphed him, and he answered that his wife
was sick, and if I was able to work I could come, and he would bury her,
and give me a home. The doctor borrowed the money and bought the coffin
you found her in. He couldn't do better or he would, for he learned to
love her. He paid our fares and took us to the train. Before I started
I went on my knees to him and worshipped him as the Almighty, and I am
sure I told him that I always would be indebted to him, and any time he
required I would pay. The rest you know."

"Have you heard from him, Ruth?"

"No."

"It WAS yourself the other day on the bridge?"

"Yes."

"Did he love you?"

"Not that I know of. No! Nobody but you would love a girl who appeared
as I did then."

The Harvester strove to keep a set face, but his lips drew back from his
teeth.

"Ruth, do you love him?"

"Love!" cried the Girl. "A pale, expressionless word! Adore would come
closer! I tell you she was delirious with hunger, and he fed her. She
was suffering horrors and he eased the pain. She was lifeless, and
he kept her poor tired body from the dissecting table. I would have
fulfilled my offer, and gone straight into the lake, but he spared me,
Man! He spared me! Worship is a good word. I think I worship him. I
tried to tell you. Before you got that license, I wanted you to know."

"I remember," said the Harvester. "But no man could have guessed that a
girl with your face had agony like that in her heart, not even when he
read deep trouble there."

"I should have told you then! I should have forced you to hear! I was
wild with fear of Uncle Henry, and I had nowhere to go. Now you know! Go
away, and the end will come soon."

The Harvester arose and walked a few steps toward the lake, where he
paused stricken, but fighting for control. For him the light had gone
out. There was nothing beyond. The one passion of his life must live on,
satisfied with a touch from lips that loved another man. Broken sobbing
came to him. He did not even have time to suffer. Stumblingly he turned
and going to the Girl he picked her up, and sat on the bench holding her
closely.

"Stop it, Ruth!" he said unsteadily. "Stop this! Why should you suffer
so? I simply will not have it. I will save you against yourself and the
world. You shall have all happiness yet; I swear it, my girl! You are
all right. He was a noble