ly fading sparks under a blanket of gray
ashes, and the wavering, flickering light that died on the curling
smoke. She had not spoken for a long time, when the old woman roused
her.

"Whar was you dis mawnin', honey chile? Mister Willits done wait mo'n
ha'f a hour, den he say he come back an' fetch his sorrel horse wid him
dis arternoon an' take ye ridin'. But he ain't come--dat is, Ben done
tol' me so."

"No, mammy," she answered wearily--"I sent him word not to--I didn't
feel like riding to-day."

CHAPTER XIX

Over two years have passed away since that mournful night when Harry
with his hand in St. George's, his voice choking, had declared his
determination to leave him the next day and seek his fortunes across the
seas.

It was a cruel blow to Temple, coming as it did on the heels of his own
disaster, but when the first shock had passed he could but admire the
lad for his pluck and love him the better for his independence.

"All right, my son," he had said, concealing as best he could his
intense suffering over the loss of his companion. "I'll try and get
along. But remember I am here--and the door is always open. I don't
blame you--I would do the same thing were I in your place. And now about
Kate--what shall I say to her?"

"Nothing. I said it all this morning. She doesn't love me any more--she
would have passed me by without speaking had I not called to her. She'll
be married to Willits before I come back--if I ever do come back. But
leaving Kate is easier than leaving you. You have stuck to me all the
way through, and Kate--well--perhaps she hasn't understood--perhaps her
father has been talking to her--I don't know. Anyhow, it's all over. If
I had had any doubts about it before, this morning's talk settled it.
The sea is the best place for me. I can support myself anyway for a
while until I can help you."

Yes! the boy was right, St. George had said to himself. It was all over
between them. Kate's reason had triumphed at last. She, perhaps, was not
to blame. Her experiences had been trying and she was still confronted
by influences bitterly opposed to Harry, and largely in favor of
Willits, for, weak specimen as Prim was, he was still her father, and in
so important a step as her marriage, must naturally exercise authority.
As for his own influence, that, he realized, had come to an end at
their last interview: the whole thing, he must admit, was
disappointing--cruelly so--the keenest disapp