, "you would try to defend
the deed."

"I certainly would!"

They smiled into each other's eyes at this.

"But, David, I am afraid to tell Nancy. Somehow I think the doubt would
hurt her more cruelly than the real truth might have. It has always been
the not knowing that mattered to Nan--unless what was to be known was a
happy thing. Merry was like that, you remember."

"Then why run a risk with Nancy, Doris?"

Martin had the look in his eyes with which he scanned the face of a
patient who could not be depended upon to describe his own symptoms.

"I--think--Ken should know."

"What?"

"Why--why--what there is to know!"

"Just muddle him. Nancy would be the same girl, but he'd get to puzzling
over her and tagging ideas on her--and to what end, Doris? The girl has
the right to her own path and you have, by the grace of God, pushed
obstacles from before her, in heaven's name give her fair play and
don't--flax out at this stage of the game."

"But, Davey, if in the future anything should disclose the truth, might
Ken not resent?"

"I don't see why he should. When the hour struck you could call him into
the family circle and share the news. By that time he'd feel secure in
his own right about Nancy."

"I'm not afraid of, or for, Joan, Davey." Doris lifted her head proudly.
"And, David, I want to tell you now that my coming to The Gap was more
on the children's account than my own. I have always felt that here, if
anywhere, the truth might be exposed. At first I was anxious; fearful
yet hopeful. I know now that The Gap has no suspicions, and I am more
and more confident that George Thornton has passed from our lives."

"Very good!" Martin sat up and bent forward in order to take Doris's
hands in his own.

"My dear," he said, gently, "have you never thought that--Nancy is--your
own?"

"Yes, Davey, I have grown to believe it. She is very like Meredith--not
in looks, but in her character and habits. She is stronger, happier than
Merry, and oh! Davey, for that very reason I hesitate to touch the
beautiful faith and love of the child. I do not want her disillusioned.
It would kill her as it did Merry."

"Then, again I caution against risks, especially when the odds are with
Nancy, not against her."

The fire burned low--a mere twinkle in the white ashes, then David asked
as one does ask a useless question:

"Are those words over the fireplace, Doris?" He puckered his
near-sighted eyes.

"I think so. Ther