all the
flowers strewn and the reluctant feet had left the silent city, I went
over behind the tall cedars into a corner and knelt beside Martha
Ensley, who had flung herself down across the new-made grave that held
all that was left of Jacob Ensley, the man who had bulwarked sin in his
Settlement and menaced all of Goodloets for many a year. The wide-eyed
boy crouched beside her and I took his hand in mine.

"Martha," I said, as I bent beside her in the twilight. "I want you to
come home with me, you and Sonny. Your place is there now and you must
bring him." All day I had thought and I had prayed to be aided in doing
what I knew was best.

"Oh, no, Miss Charlotte, no," she said, and shrank from my arms.

"Yes, Martha," I said, and drew her closer.

"It happened the summer we were all first grown and you were in Europe.
I couldn't fight him off. I knew he belonged to you and I loved you,
but I couldn't fight him off," she sobbed and the Stray's little arms
went around her neck.

"I'll fight fer you--I'll fight," he said, with brave, wonderment in his
eyes and voice.

"I went away this summer and I wanted to stay. Mr. Goodloe tried to help
me, but Nickols found where I was and made me come back. It was wrong to
you and I knew it. I stayed shut up in my room, but he would come. And I
sent him to his death. He was yours and I killed him for you! Please go
away and leave me!" And again Martha cowered away from me.

"Nobody need know you are in the house, Martha, but you must come with
me," I said, and I spoke with such quiet authority that she rose and
followed me out of the shadows into the starlit night which had come
down over stricken Goodloets. I found Billy waiting for me in his car
and he spoke gently to Martha and settled her and the boy on the back
seat with never a question in his kind eyes.

"God, you women!" he said to me under his breath, but I avoided his eye
and he drove us silently to the Poplars. The long halls were quiet and
empty in the anxious hush of the whole house which was keeping its
life--or death watch. I led Martha to the room that opened into mine, in
which all of the girl guests of the Poplars always slept, and made her
take off her hat and make the boy comfortable. Then I went for Dabney
and asked him to take food to them.

"Yes'm, I will. God love my little miss," was his answer, and I knew
that I could trust his kindness to Martha and the boy.

Then I went into the library to f