heart of the village. Joe tarried at the window
of a cabin, and passed a few remarks to a woman there, and then he
inquired for Mother Smith at her house. When they left here the Mormon
gave Shefford a nudge. Then they separated, Joe going toward the
school-house, while Shefford bent his steps in the direction of Ruth's
home.

Her door opened before he had a chance to knock. He entered. Ruth, white
and resolute, greeted him with a wistful smile.

"All ready?" she asked.

"Yes. Are you?" he replied, low-voiced.

"I've only to put on my hood. I think luck favors you. Hester was here
and she said Elder Smith told some one that Mary hadn't been offered
anything to eat yet. So I'm taking her a little. It'll be a good excuse
for me to get in the school-house to see her. I can throw off this dress
and she can put it on in a minute. Then the hood. I mustn't forget to
hide her golden hair. You know how it flies. But this is a big hood....
Well, I'm ready now. And--this 's our last time together."

"Ruth, what can I say--how can I thank you?"

"I don't want any thanks. It'll be something to think of always--to make
me happy.... Only I'd like to feel you--you cared a little."

The wistful smile was there, a tremor on the sad lips, and a shadow of
soul-hunger in her eyes. Shefford did not misunderstand her. She did
not mean love, although it was a yearning for real love that she mutely
expressed.

"Care! I shall care all my life," he said, with strong feeling. "I shall
never forget you."

"It's not likely I'll forget you.... Good-by, John!"

Shefford took her in his arms and held her close. "Ruth--good-by!" he
said, huskily.

Then he released her. She adjusted the hood and, taking up a little tray
which held food covered with a napkin, she turned to the door. He opened
it and they went out.

They did not speak another word.

It was not a long walk from Ruth's home to the school-house, yet if it
were to be measured by Shefford's emotion the distance would have been
unending. The sacrifice offered by Ruth and Joe would have been noble
under any circumstances had they been Gentiles or persons with no
particular religion, but, considering that they were Mormons, that Ruth
had been a sealed-wife, that Joe had been brought up under the strange,
secret, and binding creed, their action was no less than tremendous in
its import. Shefford took it to mean vastly more than loyalty to him
and pity for Fay Larkin. As Ruth and J