Jean Duval frowned. "She took one," he replied, "but he ran away. I’m thinking the Mam’selle Jo is not reaching out for more." "Then I will go to her," said Law in his most ingratiating manner; "she shall not reach out for me." Jo was in the barn, but Donelle stood by the gate, her fair, uncovered head shining in the warm October light. "I am Anderson Law!" Donelle turned and her wide eyes grew dark. "I have come late, I’m afraid, child," Law saw that his name was familiar to the girl, saw her lips quiver, "but I’ll do my best now to mend the trouble. You must accept me for Alice Lindsay’s sake." Bluntly, but with grave tenderness, he put out his hand. There are some people who come into the world for no other reason, apparently, than to lighten the burdens of others. The mere sight of them is the signal for the shifting of heavy loads. Weary, lost ones know their deliverers. Donelle gave a long, long look, her eyes filled with sudden and sadly-suppressed tears. All the weight she had borne since the time she had entered the Walled House cried out for support. "Oh! I am so glad you’ve come. So glad!" And Donelle’s hands lay in Law’s. And so Mam’selle found them, clinging to each other like shipwrecked souls, when she came up with Nick wheezing at her heels. Nick wheezed now, there was no denying it. "And, sir, you are——?" she said, standing with her feet astride, her hands reaching down to where her father’s old pockets used to be. "A boarder, Mam’selle, heaven willing." "I can take no more boarders, sir. But I can hitch up Molly and drive you to Captain Longville’s." "Mam’selle Morey, I am Alice Lindsay’s friend, Anderson Law." Then Jo, who had always been a burden-bearer herself, scented another of her kind. She came a step nearer. Her lifted brows disclosed her wonderful eyes, the eyes of a woman who had suffered and made no cry. Law held her by a long glance; a searching glance. "Mam’selle," he said; "I half believe you will reconsider and take me in." "I half believe I will!" Jo’s lips twitched. Her instinct guided her. "The upper chamber is ready," she added, "and the noon meal is about to be set on the table." "And I’ll show you the way!" Donelle went on before Law, a new look upon her face, a gladder look than had rested there for many a day. *CHAPTER XXI* *DONELLE AT LAST SEES TOM* "The greatest wrong Norval did was to leave you in the dark." Law and Donelle sat in the wood-cabin, and the room was warm and bright. Norval’s deserted pictures were hung in good light and now some of Law’s own had also found a place on the rough walls. "You are woman enough to have understood." "Yes, I would have understood," Donelle replied from her seat near the window. She was knitting; knitting, always knitting.