Peter's lips twisted painfully. "My happy marriage is in Limbo, Judith, with the rest of my dreams. As for being old--why, Jude, I'm still in my forties." "Forty!" gasped Judith. "Yes, forty; and if I hadn't been a fool I'd still be facing the most useful part of my life. Heaven knows, children, I'm not offering myself or any one else in Lost Chief as an example to you." "What do you offer?" asked Jude with an impish smile. Again Peter paced the room before coming to pause by Douglas' pillow. "You both heard what I said this morning about the lack of a church in Lost Chief. That's what you children need for a pattern. Disagree with his creed as you might, the right kind of a preacher in here could answer your questions as they should be answered. If the church doesn't form ideals for young people like you, loose women and loose men will." "That might be true, Peter," said Douglas; "but I don't see why you should expect us to believe the stuff you can't believe yourself." Peter winced, then said gruffly, "I don't know as I do. All I know is that when I was a boy I went to church on Sunday morning with my mother and that there was an old vicar who would have set me straight on the things you are talking about, if I'd have let him." "Couldn't you believe what he said?" asked Douglas. "I never went to him. I preferred my own rotten ideas. I--" He drew himself up with a sudden expression of disgust. "Faugh! How like a fool I'm talking!" He stalked out, this time closing the door of the room behind him. "I wonder who Peter really is?" said Judith in a low voice. Douglas shook his head. "Dad says he's seen better days. He sure has suffered a lot over something or other." "I wish I knew all about life that he does!" exclaimed Judith. "I don't wish either of us did," said Douglas. Then he put out his hand to touch Judith's knee with infinite tenderness. "Couldn't you manage to fall in love with me, Jude dear? I'd stay your lover all my life." Judith put her hand over Douglas' and her fine eyes were all that was womanly and soft as she answered, "O my dear, you don't know what you are talking about. What you promise is impossible." "But how do you know, Judith? I am an unchanging sort of a chap. You realize that, don't you?" Judith shook her head. "You don't know what you are promising. You can't force love to stay, once it has begun to fade." "Try me, Judith! Try me, dear!" Judith looked at him, lips parted, eyes sad. "Douglas, I'm afraid!" she whispered. And again the sense of loneliness flooded Doug's heart. There was a look of remoteness in Judith's expression, a look of honest fear that had no response for the fine assured emotion that had held him captive for so many years. The two were still staring at each other when Peter returned.