arlove and Brightstone, getting it
ready for re-occupation, since it was but seemly that the dread guest
who had come under its roof should be decently lodged.

Thor, having spent some hours before the stupefied village authorities,
was surprised and obscurely disappointed not to be put under arrest.
Public disgrace would have appeased in a measure the clamor of
self-accusation. To be treated with respect and taken at his word in his
account of what had happened between himself and Claude was like an
insult to a martyr's memory. When dismissed to his home he found it hard
to go.

Having dragged himself back through the gray morning light, it was to
discover strange wonders wrought in the immediate surroundings. Lois and
her four assistants had whisked the coverings from the furniture and
restored something like an air of life. Even the library, having been
sufficiently noted and described, had been set in what was approximately
order, the broken picture taken from its nail and the broken window
hidden by a curtain.

On the threshold of the room Thor paused, shrinking from a spot which
henceforth he must regard as cursed. But Lois insisted. "Come in, Thor
dear; come in." She felt it imperative that he should overcome on the
instant anything in the way of terrible association. He must counteract
remorse; he must not let himself be haunted. She herself sat still,
therefore, with the restrained demeanor of one who has seen nothing in
the circumstances with which she has not been able to cope. Pale, with
dark rings under the eyes betraying the inner effect of the night of
stress, she nevertheless carried herself as if equal to confronting
developments graver still. The strength she inspired came from rising to
the facts as to some tremendous matter of course.

Now that there was a lull in the excitement she had been quietly
discussing the conditions with Uncle Sim and Dr. Hilary. The latter went
forward as Thor, tall, gaunt, red-eyed, the wound in his forehead
stanched with plaster, advanced into the room.

"You're face to face with a great moral test, me dear Thor," he said,
laying his hands on the young man's shoulders, "but you'll rise to it."

Thor started back, less in indignation than in horror. "Rise? Me?"

"Yes, you, me dear Thor. You'll climb up on it and get it under your
feet. The best use we can make of mistake and calamity is to stand on
them and be that much higher up. I don't care what your sin has been