self-confident pride she had looked down with contempt upon Ysleta
boomers and their methods. At the first beck of Elijah, yielding to the
subtle, intangible influence which he had thrown around her, she had
abandoned her principles and had become as one of them. Not openly, not
strongly, not defiantly, here was the shame and the pain of it; she had
not been herself, but another. She had protested, to herself, to Elijah,
she had stood up against him and had gone down before him. Day after
day, the meshes of this sinister influence had held her more closely in
its silken web; day after day, her past stood out more clearly with all
its pitiful failures, and day after day the future, even with the light
of the past beating white upon it, saw her yet more strongly bound. What
deeper depths would have yawned to engulf her, had not Elijah's
declaration jarred her to a loathsome recognition of what she was, of
what she might become, she shuddered to forecast. A smile of bitter
self-contempt played over her lips for a moment; then was gone.

In her darkness, there was yet a ray of light. She had failed, failed
miserably. She bore this in upon her soul with no softening words. This
was her darkness.

Brave, strong, patient hands had laid hold upon Elijah. If they had not
saved him, they had saved his work. They had laid hold upon her. If they
had not saved her, they had made her failures harmless. This was her
light. She could forget herself, her pain, her shame, in the glory of
Ralph's triumph. From the dust of her humiliation, she could yet raise a
heart filled with unselfish love.

Yet was there not hope? Ralph had known all that had lain on the surface
and he had offered her his love and had asked for hers in return. She
would be brave. She would tell him all. Even though he cast her aside,
she would yet have her love for him which could not harm him, but save
her. She would tell him all. Then if the light of love still shone in
his eyes, the light of the love he offered, the light of the love he
asked, she would know it; she could trust it without fear. She was
learning a lesson that might not avail her; but she was learning a
lesson. On the somber background of repentance the brightest pictures of
life are painted.

Through the pine boughs that hung low over the trail, she caught a
glimpse of hatless men who were carrying a burden between them. For a
moment her heart stood still. It was death. Then her heart once more