for the final conflict
which she knew she would have with Ted while they drove in to town. She
looked toward the barn-yard to see if he was most ready, and could not
but smile a little at his grim, resolute face as he was checking up the
horse. She could see so well that he was going to make the best of his
time while driving her in to the train. And it seemed she had nothing
left in her for combat; she would be glad to see the train that was to
take her away.

Three days before Stuart had gone suddenly to Denver. He went with his
friend Stoddard, regarding some of their arrangements for Montana. He
had found only at the last minute that he would have to go, had
hurriedly driven out from town to get his things and tell her he was
going. He had been in the house only a few minutes and was all
excitement about the unexpected trip. It was two days after their talk.
After their moment of being swept together by the feeling of things gone
he had, as if having to get a footing on everyday ground, ended the talk
with saying: "I'll tell you, Ruth, you need a little change. We'll have
to work it out." The next day they were both subdued, more gentle with
each other than they had been of late, but they did not refer to the
night before. After he had hurriedly kissed her good-by when leaving for
Denver he had turned back and said, "And don't you worry--about things,
Ruth. We'll get everything fixed up--and a little change--" He had
hurried down to the machine without finishing it.

She had gone to the window and watched him disappear. He was sitting
erect, alert, talking animatedly with his friend. She watched him as far
as she could see him. She knew that she would not see him again.

And then she hitched up the horse and drove into town and telephoned
Ted, who lived about fifty miles to the north. She told him that she was
going East and asked him to come down the next day and see her.

She had known that Ted would not approve, would not understand, but she
had not expected him to make the fight he had. It had taken every bit of
her will, her force, to meet him. Worn now, and under the stress of the
taking leave, at once too tired and too emotional, she wished that he
would let it rest. But the grim line of his jaw told her that he had no
such intention. She felt almost faint as they drove through the gate.
She closed her eyes and did not open them for some time.

"You see, Ruth," Ted began gently, as if realizing that she w