ew dim. "Morton, I brought this on you, and I'm
beginning to doubt. I don't believe I want you to go with her, after
all." She put her hands on his shoulders and gave way to a feeling of
loss and loneliness. "I've always hoped--I've always looked forward
to your having a splendid, dignified wife; and though I like her. I
don't believe--she's up to you."

"Now, don't trouble about that, sis. The important thing to me is, am
I worthy of her? She entered my heart the first time I saw her, and
has never left it. She came at a time when I was certain no woman
would ever move me again. I am indebted to her--now, that's the truth.
And so"--he stooped and kissed her--"if she decides to come to me, I
shall feel grateful to you. If she decides not to come--you can be
grateful to her!"

XXII

THE SPIRITUAL RESCUE

With a conviction that he was entering upon a new order in his life,
Morton Serviss opened the door of the coach for Viola and her mother.
Never before had he evaded a contest, or asked for consideration from
authority, and deceit had been quite foreign to him; but now, after a
deceptive word to the hall-boy, he was conscious of furtively scanning
the people approaching on the walk, aware of his weakness and his
doubt, for no man of regular and candid life can become a fugitive
with entire belief in the righteousness of his flight. He must
perforce of conscience look back for a moment.

Once within the carriage he put all question aside and joined Lambert
in his attempt to keep from the women the slightest suspicion that his
sudden departure involved any serious change in their fortunes. The
miner had taken his place beside his wife, thus bringing the young
people side by side on the forward seat, and this arrangement had much
to do with filling Morton's mind with a new and delicious content, for
Viola's face was almost constantly lifted to his, and at every lurch
of the vehicle her soft shoulder touched his arm, while the faint
perfume of her garments rose like some enchanter's incense, dulling
his sense of duties abandoned, quickening his delight in her beauty,
and restoring his joy in his own youth. What did the judgment of the
world matter at such a time?

He said little on the ride, just enough to hold the conversation to
subjects far removed from the causes of their retreat. He was
convinced of Viola's ability to read (in a vague way) what lay in his
thought, but he also believed in his power to pre