sh and idle, her father
had been close and mean, and Ruth knew so little of other men she
thought them all alike, capable of ugly deeds that women never dreamed
of. Yet somehow Jim seemed different. Ruth was twenty-eight, which is
not old as women marry nowadays; but everything depends on the point of
view, and for a long time Ruth had thought she was to be an old maid.

"I am very fond of you, Mr. Jim, but I don't know that I love you," she
answered nervously, in a small voice as cold and aloof as in the early
days of her acquaintance with Jim.

But this time Jim laughed. "Don't be afraid of yourself, Ruth, dear," he
pleaded, "and don't go back to Vermont to think how you felt when you
lived there. I don't want you to be fond of me. You are fond of our old
dog, Shep. I want you to love me, Ruth, well enough to go through thick
and thin with me, to believe in me and fight for me to the last drop. We
are not little people, dear, and I don't want little loving. Love is the
biggest thing about us and I want all there is in it from you."

If Jim had leaned over at this moment and put his arm about Ruth, taking
her answer for granted he would have saved her and himself much sorrow,
for Ruth had one of those uncomfortable New England consciences which
would not let her accept the gift of happiness without days of
questioning and unrest.

Ruth turned toward her lover, with her eyes full of uncertain tears.
"Really I don't know whether I love you in the big way, Mr. Jim," she
faltered. "Will you let me wait a little while to find out?"

Poor Ruth--she knew that when she was weary she wanted Jim Colter's
strength to rest upon, that when she was sorrowful she wanted his
sympathy to comfort her, and that when she was happy she wished him to
be the sharer in her joys; yet she did not understand that this trinity
of simple emotions meant the big human mystery of love.

"Of course you may have all the time you need, Ruth," Jim replied, not
showing his disappointment. "You may have all my life if it takes you
that long to find out. But it would be easier for us both if you decide
this week. 'Tain't fair for a man to expect a woman to say her yes or no
right off at the first asking. He has had all the time beforehand to
decide that he wants her to be his wife, but she ain't supposed to think
of him as a husband until he has said the word. At least, that is the
kind of woman you are, Ruth, and there are plenty like you. I suppose,