ody shouted but the cashier. Dan sat in a stupor, and Biddy was
weeping, with one arm flung around Dan's neck. Dan was turning his hat
around on his fingers and staring at Clement's face for some solution
to the situation. It was beyond his imagination.

Clement did not speak again for some moments. When he did his voice
was husky and tremulous with emotion. "You notice I say quarter
interest--that's because there is a new member in the firm now. She
comes in to-morrow. I want you to see how she looks." He extended a
picture of Ellice to Biddy. She made a marvelous dramatic shift of
features, and a smile of admiration broke through the red of her broad
countenance.

"Oh, the swate, blessed angel. Sure, she's beautiful as one of the
saints in the church. Luk at her, Dan."

"I'm lukin'. She's none too good for him."

"Don't say that, Dan!" Clement protested in an earnest tone. "All you
have to-night you owe to her. All the best thoughts in me to-day I owe
to her."

CHAPTER II

There remained to him now all the joy of riding back to tell her of
his purification of soul. His heart was so joyous it kept time to
every happy song in the world.

The gloom and doubt of himself had passed away, but the wonder and
mystery of woman's love for man remained. He felt himself to be an
honest man, but a man big, crude and coarse compared to her beauty and
delicacy. He marveled at her bravery and her magnanimity. Leaving
Susanna he leaped upon a fresh horse and set off, riding fast toward
the divide. The wind had risen and was blowing from the dim domes of
the highest mountains--a cold wind, and he would have said a sad wind
had his heart not been so light. As it was, he lifted his bared
forehead to it exultantly.

He put behind him, so far as in his power lay, all thought of the
great wealth he had given away. He was eager to pour out the whole
story to her, and hear her say, "Well done, Richard."

Over and over again his thought ran: "Now I am an honest man. I am not
worthy of her, but at least my heart is clean."

Henceforth she was to be his altar of sacrifice. All he did would be
for her approval. All there was of his money, his inventive skill, his
command of men, should be hers. She should regulate every hour of his
coming and going, and share all the plans and purposes of his life.

"Oh, I must live right, and deal justly," he thought. "I must be a
better man from this time forth."

In the east the pale la