and retraced his laborious steps towards his own home,
which he had just passed. There come times for all souls when the
broad light of the path of humanity seems to pale to insignificance
before the intensity of the one little search-light of personality.
Granville Joy felt as if the eternal problem of the rich and poor,
of labor and capital, of justice and equality, was as nothing before
the desire of his heart for that one girl who was disappearing from
his sight behind the veil of virgin snow.

Chapter L

When Ellen came in sight of her house that night she saw her
father's bent figure moving down the path with sidewise motions of a
broom. He had been out at short intervals all the afternoon, that
she should not have to wade through drifts to the door. The
electric-light shone full on this narrow, cleared track and the
toiling figure.

"Hullo, father!" Ellen called out. Andrew turned, and his face lit
with love and welcome and solicitude.

"Be you dreadful snowy?" he asked.

"Oh no, father, not very."

"It's an awful storm."

"Pretty bad, but I got along all right. The snow-plough has been
out."

"Wait a minute till I get this swept," said Andrew, sweeping
violently before her.

"You needn't have bothered, father," said Ellen.

"I 'ain't anything else to do," replied Andrew, in a sad voice.

"There's mother watching," said Ellen.

"Yes, she's been diggin' at them wrappers all day."

"I suppose she has," Ellen returned, in a bitter tone. Her father
stared at her. Ellen never spoke like that. For the first time she
echoed him and her mother. Something like terror came over him at
the sound of that familiar note of his own life from this younger
one. He seemed to realize dimly that a taint of his nature had
descended upon his child.

When Ellen entered the house, the warm air was full of savory odors
of toast and tea and cooking meat and vegetables.

"You'd better go right up-stairs and put on a dry dress, Ellen,"
said Fanny. "I put your blue one out on your bed, and your shoes are
warming by the sitting-room stove. I've been worrying as to how you
were going to get home all day." Then she stopped short as she
caught sight of Ellen's face. "What on earth is the matter, Ellen
Brewster?" she said.

"Nothing," said Ellen. "Why?"

"You look queer. Has anything happened?"

"Yes, something has happened."

"What?"

Andrew turned pale. He stood in the entry with his snowy broom in
hand, s