, to her room.

Those last words of her husband's rang strangely in her heart. Why had
he put it like that?

Her thoughts went to Hugh--dear and faithful friend who had taken this
step on her behalf. What had passed between him and her husband during
that interview in the parlour? She longed to know.

But whatever it had been, Hugh had emerged victorious. He had destroyed
those foul suspicions of Jeff's. He had conquered the man's enmity,
overthrown his passionate jealousy, humbled him into admitting himself
to be in the wrong. Very curiously that silent admission of Jeff's hurt
her pride almost as if it had been made on her behalf. The thought of
Jeff worsted by Hugh Chesyl, however deeply in the wrong he might be,
was somehow very hard to bear. Her heart ached for the man. She did not
want him to be humbled.

When Granny Grimshaw came up with her tea, she was half-dressed.

"I couldn't sleep any longer," she said. "It's dear of you to take such
care of me. But I'm quite all right. Dear Granny, forgive me for giving
you such a horrible Christmas Day!" She bent suddenly forward and kissed
the wrinkled face.

"My dearie! My dearie!" said Granny Grimshaw.

And then, exactly how it happened neither of them ever knew, all in a
moment Doris found herself folded close in the old woman's arms, sobbing
her heart out on the motherly shoulder.

"You shouldn't cry, darling; you shouldn't cry," murmured Granny
Grimshaw, softly patting the slim young form. "It would hurt Master Jeff
more than anything to have you cry."

"No, no! He doesn't really care for me. I could bear it better if he
did," whispered Doris.

"Not care for you, my dearie? Why, what ever can you be thinking of?"
protested Granny Grimshaw. "He's eating his very heart out for you, and
I verily believe he'd kill himself sooner than make you unhappy."

"Ah! You don't understand," sighed Doris. "He only wants--material
things."

"Oh, my dear, my dear!" said Granny Grimshaw. "Did you suppose that the
man ever lived who could love a woman without? We're human, dear, the
very best of us, and there's no getting out of it. Besides, love is
never satisfied with half measures."

She drew the girl down into the chair before the fire and fussed over
her tenderly till she grew calmer. And then presently she slipped away.

Doris finished her tea slowly with her eyes on the red coals, then rose
at length to continue her dressing. As she stood at the table twisting