"It is justice that moves me, more than my personal inclination," Ruth went on. "I will not deny, Mr. Calhoun, that in some ways, my husband's death has freed me from certain restrictions that hampered and galled me. I shouldn't mention this to you, but I know the sisters have told you that I have, in many ways, gone counter to Mr. Schuyler's wishes, since I have been my own mistress. It is true. He and I disagreed greatly on matters of the household and matters of my personal comfort and convenience. Now that I can do so, I am arranging my life differently. It is natural that I should do this, but the Schuyler ladies think that I have begun indecently soon. I say this, not by way of apology, but because I want you to understand." Ruth looked very sweet and wistful, as she seemed to make a bid for my sympathy. I was impressed anew by the soft pallor of her face and the sweet purity of her gray eyes. I contrasted her with Vicky Van. One, the embodiment of life and gayety, the other a gentle, dovelike personality, which, however, hinted sometimes at hidden fires. I believed that Ruth Schuyler had been so repressed, so dominated by her brute of a husband, that her nature had never expanded to its own possibilities. And, like a blinding flash of lightning, the knowledge came to me that I loved her! It was no uncertain conviction. The fact sprang full-armed, to my brain, and my heart swelled with the bliss of it. I scarcely dared look at her. I couldn't tell her--yet. I had no reason to think she cared for me, other than as the merest acquaintance, yet, then and there, I vowed to myself that she should care. I thought of Vicky Van--poor little Vicky. She had interested me--did interest me, but in only a friendly way. Indeed, my interest in her was prompted by sympathy for her luckless position and the trust she had reposed in me, I would hold her trust sacred. I would never play false to Vicky Van. But henceforth and forever my heart and soul belonged to my liege lady, my angel-faced Ruth. "What is the matter, Mr. Calhoun?" I heard her saying, and I looked up to see her smiling almost gayly at me. "Your thoughts seem to be a thousand miles away!" "Oh, not so far as that," I protested. Somehow, I felt buoyantly happy. I had no wish to tell her of my love, at present I was quite content to worship her in secret, and I exulted in a sort of clairvoyant knowledge that I should yet win her. I smiled into her dear eyes, as I continued: "They were really round the corner in Vicky Van's house." To my delight she pouted a little. "Let's talk of something else," she said. "I've no doubt Miss Van Allen is charming, and her home a perfect gem, but I own up I'm not anxious to discuss her all the time and with every one." "You shall be exempt from it with me," I promised. "Henceforth her name is taboo between us, and you shall choose our subjects yourself."