ing. You must not continue to break our hearts."

"Break your hearts? Margaret, what's the use of words? I had a heart,
too, and a brother whom I loved and trusted as myself, yes, more than
myself, and--I had--Iola. All I have lost. My work satisfies me for a
few months, but try as I can this awful thing hunts me down and drives
me mad. There is nothing in life left for me. And there might have been
much but for--"

"Stop, Barney!" cried Margaret impulsively. "There is much still left
for you. God is good. How much better than we. You can't forgive a
fellow-sinner. Oh, shame! But He forgives and forgets, and surely you
ought to try--"

"Try! Try! Heavens above, Margaret! Try! Do you think I haven't tried?
That thing is there! there!" smiting on his breast again. "Can you tell
me how to rid myself of it?"

"Yes, Barney, I think I can tell you. God's great goodness will do this
for you. Listen," she said, putting up her hand to stay his words, "God
is bringing a great joy to you to shame you and to soften you. Here,
read this." She handed him Iola's letter, went to the window, and stood
with her back to him, looking out upon the great sweeping valley below.

"Margaret!" The hoarse voice called her back to him. His hard, proud,
sullen reserve was shattered, gone. His lips were quivering, his hands
trembling. The girl was touched to the heart. "Margaret," he cried
brokenly, "what does this mean?" He was terribly shaken.

"It means that she wants you, that she needs you. Dick was going
to-morrow to bring her back to you, Barney. That was his one desire."

"To bring her to me? To bring her back to me? Dick? Dear old boy! and
I--Oh, Margaret!" He put his trembling hands out to her. "Forgive me!
God forgive me! Poor Dick! I'll see him!" He started toward the door.
"No, not how," he cried, striving in vain to control himself. "I am mad!
mad! For three long years I have carried this cursed thing in my heart!
It's gone! It's gone, Margaret! Do you hear? It's gone!" He was shouting
aloud. "I feel right toward Dick, my brother!"

"Hush, Barney dear," said the girl, tears running down her face, "you
will wake him."

"Yes, yes," he cried, in an eager whisper, "I'll be careful. Poor old
boy, he has suffered, too. Dear old Dick! And she wants me! I'll go
to-night! Yes, to-night! What's the date?" He tore at the envelope with
trembling hands. The letter dropped to the floor. Margaret caught it up
and opened it for him. "A month