"I had to tell him something, Brace; you know how Sandy is--I knew I could explain to you; you would understand." The pitiful, futile words and tone did not reach Northrup with appeal. "You can explain," he said harshly, "and I think I will understand, but I want the explanation to come in my way, if you please. Just answer my questions. Have you ever told Arnold--what he just made you promise to tell me?" Kathryn stood still, breathing hard. "Yes or no!" The girl was being dragged to a merciless bar of judgment. She realized it and all her foolish defences fell; all but that power of hers to leap to some sort of safety. There still was Arnold! "Yes," she said gaspingly. "You mean you love Arnold; that only duty held you to me?" "Yes." "Well, by God!" Northrup flung his head back and laughed--"and after all I have been fearing, too!" To her dying day Kathryn never knew what he meant by those words. There was a moment's silence, then Northrup spoke again: "I don't think there is anything more to say. Shall I take the side entrance?" Outside, the summer night was growing sultry; a sound of thunder broke the heavy quiet of the dark street--it brought back memories that were evil things to remember just then. "Good God!" Northrup thought, "we're coming back to all kinds of hells." He was bitter and cynical. He hardly took into account, in that hard moment, the feeling of release; all his foregone conclusions, his stern resolves, had been battered down. He had got his discharge with nothing to turn to. In this mood he reached home. More than anything he wanted to be by himself--but his mother's bedroom door was open and he saw her sitting by the window, watching the flashes of heat lightning. He went in and stood near her. "I've about concluded," he said harshly, "that the fellows who keep to the herd are the sensible ones." The words conveyed no meaning to Helen Northrup, but the tones did. "Sit down, dear," she said calmly. "If this shower strikes us, I do not want to be alone." Northrup drew a chair to the window and the red flashes lighted his face luridly. "Having ideals is rot. Dying for them, madness. Mother, it's all over between Kathryn and me!" Helen's own development had done more for her than she would ever realize, but from out its strength and security she spoke: "Brace, I am glad! Now you can live your ideals." Northrup turned sharply. "What do you mean?" he said. "Oh! we've all been so stupid; so blind. Seeing the false and calling it the truth. Being afraid; not daring to let go. My work has set me free, son. Lately I have seen the girl that Kathryn _really_ is, looming dark over the girl she made us believe she was. I have feared for you, but now I am glad. Brace, there _are_ women a man can count on. Cling hold of that." "Yes, I know that, of course." "Women whose honour is as high and clear as that of the best of men." "Yes, Mother."