his, Con?"

"I know it, now, from the bottom of my soul."

* * * * *

It was one of Betty's quaint sayings that some lives were guided by
flashlights, others by a steady gleam. Hers had always been by the
former method. She made her passage from one illumination to another
with great faith, high courage, and much joyousness. After the night
when Lynda made her see what her dear, dead baby had accomplished in his
brief stay, she rose triumphant from her sorrow. She was her old, bright
self again; she sang in her home, transfigured Brace by her happiness,
and undertook her old interests and duties with genuine delight.

But for Lynda and Truedale the steady gleam was necessary. They never
questioned--never doubted--after the night when they came home from the
little house in the woods. To them both happiness was no new thing; it
was a precious old thing given back after a dark period of testing. The
days were all too short, and when night brought Conning running and
whistling to the door, Lynda smiled and realized that at last the fire
was burning briskly on her nice, clean hearth. They had so much in
common--so much that demanded them both in the doing of it.

"No bridges for us, here and there, over which to reach each other,"
thought Lynda; "it's the one path for us both." Then her eyes grew
tenderly brooding as she remembered how 'twas a little child that had
led them--not theirs, but another's.

The business involved in setting old William Truedale's money in
circulation was absorbing Conning at this time. Once he set his feet
upon the way, he did not intend to turn back; but he sometimes wondered
if the day would ever come when he could, with a clear conscience, feel
poor enough to enjoy himself, selfishly, once more.

From McPherson he heard constantly of the work in the southern hills.
Truedale was, indeed, a strong if silent and unsuspected force there. As
once he had been an unknown quantity, so he remained; but the work went
on, supervised by Jim White, who used with sagacity and cleverness the
power placed in his hands.

Truedale's own particular interests were nearly all educational. Even
here, he held himself in reserve--placed in more competent hands the
power they could wield better than he. Still, he was personally known
and gratefully regarded by many young men and women who were
struggling--as he once had struggled--for what to them was dearer than
all else. He al