do that for
Charlie?"

"Yes. He did it for you."

"For me? For ME?"

"Yes. . . . Oh, can't you understand? It's absurd and foolish and
silly and everything, but I know it's true. Jed Winslow is in love
with you, Mrs. Armstrong."

Ruth leaned back in her chair and stared at her as if she thought
her insane.

"In love with ME?" she repeated. "Jed Winslow! Maud, don't!"

"It's true, I tell you. I didn't know until just now, although if
it had been any one but Jed I should have suspected for some time.
But to-day when I went in there I saw him sitting before his desk
looking down into an open drawer there. He has your photograph in
that drawer. And, later on, when you came out into the yard, I saw
him watching you; I saw his face and that was enough. . . . Oh,
don't you SEE?" impatiently. "It explains everything. You
couldn't understand, nor could I, why he should sacrifice himself
so for Charlie. But because Charlie was your brother--that is
another thing. Think, just think! You and I would have guessed it
before if he had been any one else except just Jed. Yes, he is in
love with you. . . . It's crazy and it's ridiculous and--and all
that, of course it is. But," with a sudden burst of temper, "if
you--if you dare to laugh I'll never speak to you again."

But Ruth was not laughing.

It was a cloudy day and Jed's living-room was almost dark when Ruth
entered it. Jed, who had been sitting by the desk, rose when she
came in.

"Land sakes, Ruth," he exclaimed, "it's you, ain't it? Let me
light a lamp. I was settin' here in the dark like a . . . like a
hen gone to roost. . . . Eh? Why, it's 'most supper 'time, ain't
it? Didn't realize 'twas so late. I'll have a light for you in a
jiffy."

He was on his way to the kitchen, but she stopped him.

"No," she said quickly. "Don't get a light. I'd rather not,
please. And sit down again, Jed; just as you were. There, by the
desk; that's it. You see," she added, "I--I--well, I have
something to tell you, and--and I can tell it better in the dark, I
think."

Jed looked at her in surprise. He could not see her face plainly,
but she seemed oddly confused and embarrassed.

"Sho!" he drawled. "Well, I'm sure I ain't anxious about the
light, myself. You know, I've always had a feelin' that the dark
was more becomin' to my style of beauty. Take me about twelve
o'clock in a foggy night, in a cellar, with the lamp out, and I
look pretty n