"And, Con, at first, when I knew, every fibre of my being claimed you! I wanted to push her and--and Ann away, but I could not! Then I tried to act for you. I saw that since Nella-Rose had been first in your life she should have whatever belonged to her; I knew that you would have it so. When I could bring myself to--to stand aside, I put us all into her keeping. She was very frightened, very pitiable, but she closed her eyes and I knew that she saw truth--the big truth that stood guard over all our lives and had to be dealt with honestly--or it would crush everything. I could see, as I watched her quiet face, that she was feeling her way back, back. Then she realized what it all meant. Out of the struggle--the doubt--that big, splendid husband of hers rose supreme--her man! He had saved her when she had been most hopelessly lost. Whatever now threatened him had to go! Her girlhood dream faded and the safe reality of what he stood for remained. Then she opened her eyes and made her great decision. Since you had never dishonoured her in your thought, she would not have you know her as she then was! But--there remained little Ann! Oh! Con, I never knew, until Billy came, what Nella-Rose's sacrifice meant! I thought I did--but afterward, I knew! One has to go down into the Valley to find the meaning of motherhood. I had done, or tried to do, my duty before, but Billy taught me to love Ann and understand--the rest!" There was silence for a moment. Among the white ashes a tiny red spark was showing. It glowed and throbbed; it was trying hard to find something upon which to live. "And, Lyn, after she went back to the hills--how was it with her?" "She laid everything but your name upon the soul of her man. He never exacted more. His love was big enough--divine enough--to accept. Oh! Con, through all the years when I have tried to--to do my part, the husband of Nella-Rose has helped me to do it! Nella-Rose never looked back--to Ann and me. Having laid the child upon the altar, she--trusted." "Yes, that would be her way." Truedale's voice broke a bit. "But, Con, I kept in touch with her through that wonderful old woman--Lois Ann. I--oh! Con, I made life easier, brighter for them all; just as--as you would have done. Lois Ann has told me of the happiness of the little cabin home, of the children--there are three--" A sharp pause caused Truedale to turn and look at Lynda. "And--now?" he asked. "Con, Nella-Rose died last year!" The stillness in the room pressed close; even the clock's ticking was unnoticed. The spark upon the hearth had become a flame; it had found something upon which to feed. Like a radiant hope it rose, faded, then leaped higher among the white ashes.