l to
him--something that seemed more of girlhood than womanhood. He drank
it all in--hungry--heart-hungry for comfort and love; and she saw and
understood.

Never had he enjoyed a lunch so much. Never had he seen so beautiful
a picture!

When it was over he lit a cigar, and the fine odor filled the old
room.

Then very quietly he told her the story of Mammy Maria's return, of
the little home she had prepared for them; of her coming that day to
the mill and taking Lily, and that even now, doubtless, she was there
looking for the elder sister.

She did not show any surprise--only tears came slowly: "Do you know
that I felt that something of this kind would happen? Dear
Mammy--dear, dear Mammy Maria! She will care for Lily and father."

She could stand it no longer. She burst into childish tears and,
kneeling, she put her beautiful head on Travis's lap as innocently as
if it were her old nurse's, and she, a child, seeking consolation.

He stroked her hair, her cheek, gently. He felt his lids grow moist
and a tenderness he never had known came over him.

"I have told you this for a purpose," he whispered in her ear--"I
will take you to them, now."

She raised her wet eyes--flushed. He watched her closely to see signs
of any battle there. And then his heart gave a great leap and surged
madly as she said calmly: "No--no--it is too late--too late--now.
I--could--never explain. I will go with you, Richard Travis, to the
end of the world."

He sat very still and looked at her kneeling there as a child would,
both hands clasped around his knee, and looking into his eyes with
hers, gray-brown and gloriously bright. They were calm--so calm, and
determined and innocent. They thrilled him with their trust and the
royal beauty of her faith. There came to him an upliftedness that
shook him.

"To the end of the world," he said--"ah, you have said so much--so
much more than I could ever deserve."

"I have stood it all as long as I could. My father's drunkenness, I
could stand that, and Mammy's forsaking us, as I thought--that, too.
When the glory of work, of earning my own living opened itself to
me,--Oh, I grasped it and was happy to think that I could support
them! That's why your temptation--why--I--"

He winced and was silent.

"They were nothing," she went on, "but to be forgotten, forsaken
by--by--"

"Clay?" he helped her say.

"Oh," she flushed--"yes,--that was part of it, and then to see--to
see--you so dif