rdin, trudging through the dusk of the spring evening, his
shoulders stooping and his hands thrust deep into his pockets, wore an
expression better befitting an apprehensive criminal than an expectant
lover. As he approached the Dale cottage where the light of Persis'
lamp shone redly through the curtained window, his look of gloom
increased, and he gave vent to frequent and explosive sighs.

The sense of unworthiness likely to overwhelm the best of men who seek
the love of a good woman, was in Thomas' case complicated by a morbidly
sensitive conscience and ruthless honesty. To Thomas, Persis Dale
represented all that was loveliest in womankind, but he would have
resigned unhesitatingly all hope of winning her rather than have gained
her promise under false pretenses. "I can stand getting the mitten if
it comes to that," Thomas assured himself with a fearful sinking of the
heart, which belied the boast. "But I can't stand the idea of taking
her in." When she knew him at his undisguised worst, it would be time
enough to consider taking him for a possible better.

Unluckily for his peace of mind, confession was more intricate and
protracted than in his complacency he would have believed. It seemed
impossible to finish with it. Whenever he nerved himself to the point
of putting the question which had trembled on his lips for a dozen
years, dark episodes from his past flashed into his memory with the
disconcerting suddenness of a search-light, and further humiliating
disclosures were in order before he could direct his attention to the
business of love-making. Sometimes Thomas felt that his reputation for
uprightness was a proof of hypocrisy, and that his friends and
neighbors would shrink away aghast if they suspected a fraction of his
unsavory secrets.

Persis was alone when Thomas entered. Not till the last lingering
tinge of gold had deserted the west, would Joel venture to leave the
room barricaded against the hostile element. But at any moment now he
might think it safe to risk himself down-stairs, and knowing this,
Thomas resolved to waste no time in preliminaries.

"How's your sister and the children?" Persis asked, shaking hands and
returning to her sewing. She offered no excuse for continuing her
work, nor did Thomas wish it. There was a delicious suggestion of
domesticity in the sight of Persis sewing by the shaded lamp while he
sat near enough to have touched the busy fingers, had he but won the