Elizabeth Hunter had told far more than she supposed. She had bared a yearning, struggling heart to Luther's gaze, a soul seeking a right path where there seemed no sure road, nothing but confusion. Luther longed to help, but the problem presented insurmountable difficulties; to adopt a rigid code of morals as such was to come out at the end of the journey with something in herself and society satisfied, and Hugh Noland's life sacrificed, as Doctor Morgan had said; to adopt a sympathetic attitude would spare the life of a useful man, but with her code shattered. If only she could take John into her confidence both might be possible. "Lizzie, you couldn't tell Hunter, could you?" Even as he asked it he knew it could not be done. "I would tell John instantly if he were like you, Luther," was her reply. "I think Hugh himself would have been glad to. If he could have explained, he could have got away. No--John isn't the kind of man. He wouldn't understand, and he'd make it a great deal worse than it is to everybody. He'd accuse me and spoil Jack's life, and----" The hopelessness of it left her silent for a minute, and then Doctor Morgan's warnings came up to be reckoned with. "The doctor says he'll die if he's worried, Luther. What am I to do?" she demanded, wanting him to settle the question for her, and letting the tears run unrestrained down her cheeks. Luther Hansen looked at her pityingly and shook his head. "There are some things we have to settle for ourselves, Lizzie, and this is one of them for you. I do know," he said trustfully, "whatever you do 'll be right." The interview was ended. Luther helped Elizabeth to her feet, and went away to his own house and waiting chores, leaving the question with her--Elizabeth Hunter--whose life had been punctuated with interrogation points. Elizabeth walked back slowly, going over every hint and suggestion to be gained from Luther's discussion of her situation. Nothing was clear except that whatever her decision, it must be the nearest right of anything she was able to understand. She remembered as she stopped to fasten the barnyard gate behind her that Luther had said as he left her: "He'll go away as soon as he is able, you say, Lizzie," and she remembered the lingering tones of fondness in Luther's voice when Hugh's name was mentioned. It was not easy for Luther to say, let him die, either. Elizabeth remembered at that point that Hugh's medicine was long overdue, that medicine was more important just now than any of the questions with which she had been struggling. With a frightened little cry she ran to the house and to the sick-chamber. "Never mind, Elizabeth," Hugh said when he saw her shuffling the papers about in search of the bottle. "Jack came in and I had Hepsie give it to me. I've decided that it isn't a good plan to have it there, and I'll keep it under my pillow hereafter."