"But something happened. Perhaps being near such goodness made me a little better; and a great happiness and lack of fear helped--I think I got nearer to his high place. He loved to give me pretty things. He gave me this"--the fumbling fingers touched the yellow gown; "and I suppose I looked--different, and then he saw that I had--changed and--and he--loved me! I know he loved me; women can tell. I could not be wrong about that. You see I had always loved him--and had once hungered so for his love that when it came I could not be deceived. It--was--that--last--night he told me--about--the past! Then he went away to find Jude--to get Jude to set me free--and we were--going to--be--" the words trailed into a faint moan. "But I see, I see! Even if it had come out right--I'd always be, for all his goodness, old Jared Birkdale's daughter, and Jude Lauzoon's wife. That, he would have to bear and suffer for me--and his world would never forgive him--nor me! "No; I do love him too well for that. I give him back to his place, and you." "To me?" And Ruth Dale, haggard and trembling, came slowly around the table, clinging to it for support. When she reached Joyce, she put out cold, groping hands and clutched her by the shoulders. "You--give him back to me--why? Who is he?" "John Gaston is--John Dale. It has all come to me so suddenly, I cannot explain, but there is no mistake. I am going to Jude Lauzoon, so that neither you nor he can keep me--from what alone is mine; but be--good to him--or God will never forgive you! Please go now. I must hurry. Good-bye." "Joyce!" Ruth Dale was crouching at her feet. "I am--so tired." A long sigh broke from Joyce's lips. "Please do not make it harder. It _must_ be; and I have much to do." "But--there may be some mistake." A horrible fear shook Ruth Dale. Joyce rose and confronted the woman who knelt on the floor. "Do you believe there is?" she flung the question madly. "Do you?" There was no faltering, only a stern command. "No," shuddered Ruth Dale. "Then please, go. My part is all--over! But--be--oh! be heavenly good to him." Blinded and staggering under the blow, Ruth Dale got to her feet and went from the house. The outer cold steadied her somewhat, but when, a half-hour later, she entered Ralph Drew's study, the man by the fire gazed upon her as if she were a stranger. "What has happened?" he asked affrightedly, springing to her side. She let him take her icy hands in his. "I've found--John!" she gasped hoarsely. "John--who? Sit down, Ruth. You have had a terrible fright." He put her firmly, but gently in his own arm-chair. "Tell me all about it," he urged quietly. "John Dale. Philip's brother." "In heaven's name, where!" "Up at Gaston's shack. Gaston--is--John Dale." Ralph drew back and repeated dully: "Gaston--is John Dale? Gaston--is John Dale?" Presently the wonder became affirmation. "Yes," he almost groaned, "Gaston is--John Dale."