e_ me live. I tried it fair and honest with Jude, Mr. Drew,
but no one could do it with him. The trail got choked with--awful
things--and I only had strength enough to run away, after one year. If I
had stayed--I--I would have rotted as I stood." She breathed thick and
fast. Her old life, even in memory, smothered her. Drew caught a slight
impression of what it must have been for this strange-natured woman. He
began to think she was not yet awake, and the thought made him kinder in
his estimate of her.

"But," he said gently, "was there no other way out of your difficulty?"

She looked pityingly at him.

"I didn't go to Mr. Gaston to--to stay," she whispered: "there was a
reason for my going--a reason about Jude--then things happened that I
guess were meant to happen. There was no other way out for me--but I had
not thought that far. I guess if God ever took care of any one, he took
care of me that night."

This utterly pagan outlook on the proprieties positively stirred Drew to
unholy mirth. But it did something else--it made him realize that the
girl before him was quite outside the reach of any of his preconceived
ideas. He could afford to sit down upon her plane and feel no moral
indignation. Perhaps, after all, she had brought his work to him when
she came herself.

"You see, after Jude and Mr. Tate and Jock Filmer found me there late at
night--there was nothing else for me to do. Jude would have killed
me--if I had gone away alone--he was--awful. Besides, where could I have
gone?"

"Gaston should have acted for you. He knew what he was doing to you."

The righteous indignation confused the girl.

"Why, he did act for me." The fire sprang to the wondering eyes. "He is
the best man on earth. There are more ways of being good than one. The
people here can't see that--but surely you can. Mr. Gaston made my
life safe and clean. I could grow better every day. Why, look at me."
She flung her arms wide as if by the gesture she laid bare her new life.

"He has taught me until I can see and think, wide and sure. He is always
gentle--and he never lets me work until--until I'm too tired to want to
live.

"Isn't it being good when you are growing into the thing God meant you
to be? Ought you not to take any way God offers to reach that kind of
life?" Joyce flung the questions out fiercely. She was perplexed by
Drew's attitude. If he were as much like Gaston as she had believed, why
did he look and act as he was doi