her easier, but I never believed it.
He has come into his own, if this wretched, suffering woman that Mrs.
Cleary picked up is my wife; and I will come into mine"--here his eyes
flashed--"if he has dragged her down and--"

Father Cruse again laid his quieting fingers this time on Felix's wrist.

"He has not dragged her down, Mr. O'Day. Of that you may be sure. A
woman of her class doesn't go to pieces in a year. When she reaches the
end of her means she will either seek work or she will go to one of the
institutions to wait until she can hear from her people at home. I have
known--"

Felix shook his head with an impatient movement. "You don't know her,"
he exclaimed excitedly, "nor do you know her family. Her father has shut
his door against her, and would step across her body if he found it
on the sidewalk rather than recognize her. Nor would she ask him for a
penny, nor let him or me or any one else know of her misery."

Again the priest sat silent. He did not attempt to defend his
theory--some better way of calming his visitor must be found. He merely
said, as if entirely convinced by O'Day's denial: "Oh, well, we will let
that go, perhaps you know best"; and then added, his voice softening,
"and now one word more, before we go into the details of our search,
so that no complications may arise in the future. You, of course, are
hunting for Lady Barbara to reinstate her as your wife if--"

O'Day sprang from his chair and stood over the priest. The suggestion
had come as a blow.

"I will take her back!"

The priest looked up in astonishment. "Yes, is it not so?"

The answer came between closed teeth. "I did not expect that of
you, Father Cruse, I thought you were bigger--MUCH bigger. Can't you
understand how a man may want to stand by a woman for herself alone
without dragging in his own selfishness and--No, I forgot--you cannot
understand--you never held a woman in your arms--you do not realize her
many weaknesses, her childishness, her whims, her helplessness. But take
her back? NEVER! That chapter in my life is dosed. My hunt for her all
these months has been to save her from herself and from the scoundrel
who has ruined her. When that is done I shall pick up my life as best I
can, but not with her."

For some seconds the priest did not speak. Then he said gently, again
avoiding any disagreement. "Let us hope that so happy an ending to
all your sufferings is not far off, my dear Mr. O'Day. And now another