“I don't know anything about Lem,” she said hurriedly. “Nothing special. I just wanted to speak to you about Gay. Freeman Todder is making love to her; you know that. And I know it is not right. He is not to be trusted, Carter. You like Gay, don't you? You'll do something to save her, won't you?” “What can I do?” he asked. “She likes him best. She don't care a hang for me.” “She does! Make love to her, Carter,” urged Henrietta. “Make her love you; be--be strenuous about it; make strong love to her. She's the age when she craves it, and I know she will listen to you. You must; I know Freeman so well! I know he is bad for her, utterly bad.” Carter was red with embarrassment. “I 'm asking you because I think she's getting to like him,” Henrietta added. “Then I'm out of it--absolutely,” Carter said. “I won't butt in. No, thanks. I know when I'm not wanted.” Henrietta put her hand on the young man's shoulder and for a moment he thought she meant to shake him, as a naughty child is shaken, but she relaxed her grip somewhat. “No,” she said, “you do not know when you are not wanted. You only know that you feel resentful. And why? Because the fruit on the bough did not fall into the mouth you had opened to receive it. Because, when another's hand stretches out to pluck it, the fruit did not leap eagerly between your teeth. You are angry. That's pure conceitedness. And all I ask you to do is to put out your hand. Is n't your hand as brave as Freeman's hand?” She waited a moment to hear what he might say. What he might say made a vast difference to Henrietta. On all sides of her, catastrophes were towering, ready to crush her. You must remember she was a woman of forty now and her life had been hard--cruelly hard--because of her own acts and doings, and that here in Riverbank she had found friends and hoped to find long, peaceful, happy years. Instead she was in the midst of a tumult of troubles and dangers, with lies that threatened to return and destroy her and with Freeman's reckless wickedness an even more imminent menace. But still she meant to fight, and Freeman's attempt to win Gay, which if successful meant ruin for all, was a thing she must battle against first of all. Carter Bruce was her only weapon. “Don't look at me like that,” was what he said finally. Henrietta drew a deep breath. “Once more; just let me speak once more, Carter,” she pleaded. “You don't know Gay as well as I do. I know her so well that I know why she is yielding--in danger of yielding to Freeman--when you are in every way to be preferred. He makes love to her. He hurries her and drives her from defense to defense. She loves Love's attacks, as all women do, but she more than most. You must not expect to win by a siege when she is being won by another's bold charge. You can win if you charge, too, Carter.” “She likes him best. I'm out of it,” he said.