cried upon her: 'We trusted you. We
trusted you.' And all the reply she made was: 'You thought I'd never
dare, but I love him.' Yes, love makes a woman's heart strong.

"Well, then, nothing would do, but they must have in the minister and
see us properly married. After that we stayed never a night in their
house, but I took her to Ireland to my grandfather's home. It was a
terrible year in Ireland, for the poverty was great, and while my
grandfather was well-to-do, as far as that means in Ireland, it was
very little they had that year for helping the poor." Larry Kildene
glanced no more at Harry King, but looked only in the fire, where the
logs had fallen in a glowing heap. His pipe was out, but he still held
it in his hand.

"It was little I could do. I had my education, and could repeat poems
and read Latin, but that would not feed hungry peasant children. I
went out on the land and labored with the men, and gave of my little
patrimony to keep the old folks, but it was too small for them all, so
at last I yielded to Katherine's importunities, and she wrote to her
brother for help--not for her and me, mind you.

"It was for the poor in Ireland she wrote, and she let me read it. It
was a sweet letter, asking forgiveness for her willfulness, yet saying
she must even do the same thing again if it were to do over again. She
pleaded only for the starving in the name of Christ. She asked only if
a little of that portion which should be hers might be sent her, and
that because he was her only brother and twin, and like part of her
very self--she turned it so lovingly--I never could tell you with what
skill--but she had the way--yes. But what did it bring?

"He was a canny, canny Scot, although brought up in America. Only for
the times when his mother would take him back to Aberdeen with my
Katherine for long visits, he never saw Scotland, but what's in the
blood holds fast through life. He was a canny Scot. It takes a time
for letters to go and come, and in those days longer than now, when in
two weeks one may reach the other side. The reply came as speedily as
those days would admit, and it was carefully considered. Ah, Peter was
a clever man to bring about his own way. Never a word did he say about
forgiveness. It was as if no breach had ever been, but one thing I
noticed that she thought must be only an omission, because of the more
important things that crowded it out. It was that never once did he
mention me any mor