Perhaps there was no way for him to help you that night, but the way he
took. Perhaps he nobly did the only thing he could--I hope to God this
is true; but there are other ways now, Joyce--he must know and give you
a choice."

"I--I--do not see--what you mean?" A frightened look spread over Joyce's
face, and she shivered even in the full glow of the autumn sunlight. "I
feel--you make me feel--as if I had been--as if I am--shut in a little
room, with the doors and windows about to be opened. What is coming in,
Mr. Drew? What am I going to see? You--you frighten me. I cannot--I will
not believe--anything dreadful could happen to him or me--when I am so
happy and safe."

The excitement was wearing upon Drew frightfully. His ghastly face
appealed suddenly to Joyce as she looked at him through her own growing
doubt.

"I'm going," she said, starting up; "I've made you worse. What can I
do?"

Drew smiled wanly and held out a trembling hand.

"Come again," he whispered. "It's all right, I'm much better--than when
you came."

And so he was, spiritually, for he had retained his belief in God's
goodness, somehow. Just why, he could not have told, but had the girl
been what he had, for a moment, believed, it would all have seemed so
uselessly hopeless and crude.

From the strange confession he had obtained but a blurred impression,
but that impression saved his faith in Joyce, at least. She was not a
bad, ignoble woman. Whatever she had done, had been done from the best
that was in her, and if Gaston had accepted her sacrifice he had, in
some way, managed to keep himself noble in her sight.

It was a baffling thing all around. A thing that he must approach from a
new standpoint; the one, the only comfort was, the girl's own evolution.
It was not possible Drew thought, that all was evil which had produced
what he had just seen.

CHAPTER XI

Gaston often took a trip to Hillcrest, remaining several days, at times,
and Joyce never questioned. Gradually she had accepted the place in
Gaston's life that he had allotted her without expectation or regret. To
live in the light and joy of his presence had become enough--almost
enough. She studied, and sought to be what he desired. She was, after
the very first, genuinely happy and full of quaint sweetness. As the
black interval of her life faded, she turned with grateful appreciation
to the present and played the part expected of her in an amazing manner.

Sometimes tha