ie; she cared no more for him than a bird that has
dropped its young out of its nest. Besides, your plan is impossible.
Marriage does not condone a sin. The power to rise and rectify the
wrong lies in the woman. Lucy has not got it in her, and she never will
have it. Part of it is her fault; a large part of it is mine. She has
lived this lie all these years, and I have only myself to blame. I have
taught her to live it. I began it when I carried her away from here; I
should have kept her at home and had her face the consequences of her
sin then. I ought to have laid Archie in her arms and kept him there. I
was a coward and could not, and in my fear I destroyed the only thing
that could have saved her--the mother-love. Now she will run her
course. She's her own mistress; no one can compel her to do anything."

The captain raised his clenched hand:

"Bart will, when he comes."

"How?"

"By claimin' the boy and shamin' her before the world, if she don't.
She liked him well enough when he was a disgrace to himself and to me,
without a dollar to his name. What ails him now, when he comes back and
owns up like a man and wants to do the square thing, and has got money
enough to see it through? She's nothin' but a THING, if she knew it,
till this disgrace's wiped off'n her. By God, Miss Jane, I tell you
this has got to be put through just as Bart wants it, and quick!"

Jane stepped closer and laid her hand on the captain's arm. The look in
her eyes, the low, incisive, fearless ring in her voice, overawed him.
Her courage astounded him. This side of her character was a revelation.
Under their influence he became silent and humbled--as a boisterous
advocate is humbled by the measured tones of a just judge.

"It is not my friend, Captain Nat, who is talking now. It is the father
who is speaking. Think for a moment. Who has borne the weight of this,
you or I? You had a wayward son whom the people here think you drove
out of your home for gambling on Sunday. No other taint attaches to him
or to you. Dozens of other sons and fathers have done the same. He
returns a reformed man and lives out his life in the home he left.

"I had a wayward sister who forgot her mother, me, her womanhood, and
herself, and yet at whose door no suspicion of fault has been laid. I
stepped in and took the brunt and still do. I did this for my father's
name and for my promise to him and for my love of her. To her child I
have given my life. To him I