alk of Lawson--her past must be forever unshriven and
uncomforted. Bailey Girard would be the last man on earth to whom she
could bare her heart in confession; these were the things that touched
him on the raw. He "hated the sound of Lawson's name." How many times
had George Sutton's face blotted out hers? If he knew _that_! She must
forever be unshriven. There would be things also, perhaps, that _she_
could not bear to hear! The eternal hurt of love, that it never can be
truly one with the beloved, touched her with its sadness, and then
slipped away in the thought of him now--not the man who was just to help
and protect her with his love, but the man whom she longed to help also.
His pleased eyes, his lips, the way his hair fell over his forehead--She
thought of him with the fond dream-passion of the maiden, that is often
the shyest thing on earth, ready to veil itself and turn and elude and
hide at the first chance that it may be revealed.

"Dosia! Dosia, where are you?"

Suddenly she saw that the sunshine had faded out, the sky had grown
gray, a chill wind had sprung up. All the trouble, all the stress of the
world, seemed to encompass her with that tone in the voice of Lois.

XXVI

"Justin has come home ill; he was taken with a chill as soon as he got
to town; he came in a carriage from the station. I want you to telephone
for the doctor, and ask him to get here as soon as he can." Lois spoke
with rapid distinctness, stooping as she did so to pick up the scattered
toys on the floor and push the chairs into place, as one who
mechanically attends to the usual duties of routine, no matter what may
be happening. "And, Dosia!" she arrested the girl as she was
disappearing, "I may not be down-stairs again. Will you see about what
we need for meals? My pocket-book is in the desk. And see about the
children. They're in the nursery now, but I'll send them down; they had
better play outdoors, where he won't hear them."

"Oh, yes, yes; I'll attend to everything," affirmed Dosia hurriedly,
going off for her first duty at the telephone, while Lois disappeared
up-stairs. For a man to stop work and come home because he is not well
argues at once the most serious need for it. It is the public crossing
of the danger zone.

With all her anxiety, Dosia was filled now with a wondering knowledge of
something unnatural about Lois, not to be explained by the fact of
Justin's illness. There was something newly impassioned in the du