A pang shot through Berrie's heart. "He mustn't go--he isn't able to go," she exclaimed, and her pain, her fear, came out in her sharpened, constricted tone. "I won't let him go--till he's well." Mrs. McFarlane gently interposed. "He'll have to go, honey, if his father needs him." "Let his father come here." She rose, and, going to his door, decisively knocked. "May I come in?" she demanded, rather than asked, before her mother could protest. "I must see you." Wayland opened the door, and she entered, leaving her parents facing each other in mute helplessness. Mrs. McFarlane turned toward her husband with a face of despair. "She's ours no longer, Joe. Our time of bereavement has come." He took her in his arms. "There, there, mother. Don't cry. It can't be helped. You cut loose from your parents and came to me in just the same way. Our daughter's a grown woman, and must have her own life. All we can do is to defend her against the coyotes who are busy with her name." "But what of _him_, Joe; he don't care for her as she does for him--can't you see that?" "He'll do the right thing, mother; he told me he would. He knows how much depends on his staying here now, and he intends to do it." "But in the end, Joe, after this scandal is lived down, can he--will he--marry her? And if he marries her can they live together and be happy? His way of life is so different. He can't content himself here, and she can't fit in where he belongs. It all seems hopeless to me. Wouldn't it be better for her to suffer for a little while now than to make a mistake that may last a lifetime?" "Mebbe it would, mother, but the decision is not ours. She's too strong for us to control. She's of age, and if she comes to a full understanding of the situation, she can decide the question a whole lot better than either of us." "That's true," she sighed. "In some ways she's bigger and stronger than both of us. Sometimes I wish she were not so self-reliant." "Well, that's the way life is, sometimes, and I reckon there's nothin' left for you an' me but to draw closer together and try to fill up the empty place she's going to leave between us." XIV THE SUMMONS When Wayland caught the startled look on Berrie's face he knew that she had learned from her father the contents of his telegram, and that she would require an explanation. "Are you going away?" she asked. "Yes. At least, I must go down to Denver to see my father. I shall be gone only over night." "And will you tell him about our trip?" she pursued, with unflinching directness. "And about--me?" He gave her a chair, and took a seat himself before replying. "Yes, I shall tell him all about it, and about you and your father and mother. He shall know how kind you've all been to me."