Into Joanna's placid, serious face came a look of amazement. "You don't mean to say, Miss Ruth, that, Cyrus--is a--contemptible--thing and--and a fool!" "That's just exactly what I mean. He's a fool--a contemptible, weak, half-hearted, easily discouraged, stupid fool!" Ruth was clearly excited. She spoke rapidly and with vehemence, marching to and fro as if lashed to fury by some strange obsession. As Joanna watched the little figure she could hardly believe that this was the ever gentle Ruth Heywood of her acquaintance. Ruth went on: "Not a speck of perseverance! And what a coward! I never suspected he was such a hopeless coward!" "Cyrus a coward! Oh, but--Miss Ruth, you really----" "Of course he's a coward! Why has he run away? Do brave men run away? No. Cowards run away. A mean, contemptible thing. That covers it. A contemptible cowardly act by a contemptible, cowardly man. And so ungrateful! Even as a boy he was ungrateful." Now, to Joanna, who had known Cyrus intimately since the age of seven, he was the one perfect thing in creation. Morally he was an example for the angels; mentally the wonder of the age. So, being a somewhat literal person, these words came like stabs from a dagger and struck deep into her own heart. But she answered--more in sadness than in anger: "I really can't imagine anybody thinking Cyrus ungrateful." "Well, I do! He has no real love for anybody but himself. He thinks only of himself; only of himself!" "Why, Miss Ruth, when Mrs. Eagan was laid up for nearly a whole summer, years ago, Cyrus took her a bowl of ice cream himself, every Sunday, after our own dinner. We had ice cream once a week. He was nothing but a boy then, but he----" "Of course he did! Why not? Any boy would carry ice cream--just for the sake of holding it." Joanna shook her head. "No. All boys are not like that." Here Ruth turned fiercely upon her. "And how do you know he did? He probably ate it himself before he got to Mrs. Eagan's. He would tell you he didn't, of course. He's an awful liar and always was. You know that, Joanna, as well as I do." "Liar! No, no, Miss Ruth! You don't know him. He got entirely over that, years ago. He's as truthful as anybody. Long ago, before he went away to school, his father made him ashamed of his lies and----" "Oh, for a time perhaps! Bad boys don't become good over night." "But, Miss Ruth, please listen. You only knew him when you were both very young. He really cured himself. He has not lied since. He was too young to know better. But even with his lying he was always a good boy."