od doesn't care any more than
that?"

Horribly affected he stood bending over her, stroking her head. Then the
habit of a hundred death-beds helped him. "Come, Nollie! This life is
but a minute. We must all die."

"But not they--not so young!" She clung to his knees, and looked up.
"Daddy, I don't want you to go; promise me to come back!"

The childishness of those words brought back his balance.

"My dear sweetheart, of course! Come, Nollie, get up. The sun's been
too much for you."

Noel got up, and put her hands on her father's shoulders. "Forgive me
for all my badness, and all my badness to come, especially all my badness
to come!"

Pierson smiled. "I shall always forgive you, Nollie; but there won't
be--there mustn't be any badness to come. I pray God to keep you, and
make you like your mother."

"Mother never had a devil, like you and me."

He was silent from surprise. How did this child know the devil of wild
feeling he had fought against year after year; until with the many years
he had felt it weakening within him! She whispered on: "I don't hate my
devil.

"Why should I?--it's part of me. Every day when the sun sets, I'll think
of you, Daddy; and you might do the same--that'll keep me good. I shan't
come to the station tomorrow, I should only cry. And I shan't say
good-bye now. It's unlucky."

She flung her arms round him; and half smothered by that fervent embrace,
he kissed her cheeks and hair. Freed of each other at last, he stood for
a moment looking at her by the moonlight.

"There never was anyone more loving than you; Nollie!" he said quietly.
"Remember my letter. And good night, my love!" Then, afraid to stay
another second, he went quickly out of the dark little room....

George Laird, returning half an hour later, heard a voice saying softly:
"George, George!"

Looking up, he saw a little white blur at the window, and Noel's face
just visible.

"George, let the goat loose, just for to-night, to please me."

Something in that voice, and in the gesture of her stretched-out arm
moved George in a queer way, although, as Pierson had once said, he had
no music in his soul. He loosed the goat.

IV

1

In the weeks which succeeded Pierson's departure, Gratian and George
often discussed Noel's conduct and position by the light of the Pragmatic
theory. George held a suitably scientific view. Just as he would point
out to his wife--in the physical world, crea