ty and--"

"I mean all along the line. When they've begun to think they'll make
good, when they've begun to play the game."

"For money?"

"Yes, for money, for pretty gold and dirty bills and silver. That's what
it amounts to, when you get down to it, behind all the bank balances and
equities. There's a film that grows over your eyes, you look at nothing
else. You don't think about--" his voice dropped and he glanced out at
the walled orchard as if it were even a sacred place--"you don't think
about grass, and dirt, and things. You're thinking about the game."

"Well," said Lydia joyously, seeing a green pathway out, "now you've
found it's so, you don't need to think about it any more."

"That's precisely it," said he heavily. "I've got to think about it all
the time. I've got to make good."

"In the same way?" said Lydia, looking up at him childishly. "With
money?"

"Yes," said he, "with money. It's all I know. And without capital, too.
And I'm going to keep my head, and do it within the law. Yes, by God!
within the law. But I hate to do it. I hate it like the devil."

He looked so hard with resolution that she took the resolution for
pride, though she could not know whether it was a fine pride or a
heaven-defying one.

"You won't do just what you did before?" asserted Lydia, out of her
faith in him.

"Oh, yes, I shall."

She opened terrified eyes upon him.

"Be a promoter?"

"I don't know what I shall be. But I know the money game, and I shall
have to play it and make good."

She ventured a question touching on the fancies that were in her mind,
part of the bewildering drama that might attend on his return. She
faltered it out. It seemed too splendid really to assault fortune like
that. And yet perhaps not too splendid for him. This was the question.

"And pay back--" There she hesitated, and he finished for her.

"The money I lost in a hole? Well, we'll see." This last sounded
indulgent, as if he might add, "little sister ".

Lydia plucked up spirit.

"There's something else I hoped you'd do first."

"What is it?"

"I want you to prove you're innocent."

She found herself breathless over the words. They brought her very near
him, and after all she was not sure what kind of brother he was, save
that he had to be supremely loved. He looked pale to her now, of a
yellowed, unhappy hue, and he was staring at her fixedly.

"Innocent!" he repeated. "What do you mean by innocent?"

Lydia took h