"No, it wasn't that. I've loved her since the first, but she couldn't love me, that's all. Then this awful thing happened." The deepening lines in his face and his twitching lips revealed the intensity of his solicitude. "Have you heard anything about her?" "Yes. A man by the name of Brewer, one of the squatters, brought me a message." "Yes, yes!" interrupted the man, very impatiently. Helen pressed her face against his arm. She divined the pain he was suffering. How was she to soften the hurt her answer would inflict, even her loving heart couldn't imagine. "She has a baby boy," she whispered. "God!" groaned Deforrest. "The baby was born a few days ago, and every day the squatter's been at our house, ostensibly to sell something, but really to tell me about her.... I saw him this morning, and he says they are both doing nicely. Forrie, don't you think--" There was something in her brother's stricken face that broke off her question. "Don't I think what, dear?" He got up and resumed his restless pacing up and down. "Oh, I want you to be happy. Couldn't you possibly--forget you've loved her?" "No, I can't," and he came to a standstill in front of her. "I might as well be truthful, dear, as long as you know this much.... If Tessibel will marry me, I'll take her and the boy--" he choked, paused a few seconds and went on. "I'll take them both away from Ithaca. It's the only happiness in store for me, and I believe I could make her happy, too." "I can't bear the thought of it," cried Helen, desperately. "Please don't think I'm meddling, but has she told you anything?" "No. Some one has mistreated the child shamefully, but she won't tell anything about it." "Poor little girl!" sighed Mrs. Waldstricker. "How I wish now I'd done more for her! I might have, you know." The lawyer raised his hand deprecatingly. "What's past, is done with," he answered gloomily. "I don't know how much she'll let me do, but I am going to help her in spite of herself. That shack by the lake is an awful place. I swear I'll give her decent surroundings and a chance to live.... I'm going down today." "But, Forrie," his sister objected, "I want you to come home with me to dinner. You haven't been to our house in a long time, not since the night you came from Binghamton and went off to Skinner's in the storm." "Helen, dear," Young explained, apologetically, "I can't come to your house as long as Ebenezer feels toward me the way he does. You see, don't you?" "Oh, I suppose I do, but I just can't stand it. Eb has acted badly and tried to shoulder it all off on you. But can't you overlook it, honey?"