ecretaries and that the training did not take so long as other
professional education did. She could sell her rings and live on the
money they brought her until she was self supporting. She did not want to
dispose of her pearls if she could help it. She wanted to hold on to them
as the link to her lost past. Yes, she would leave the Hill. It was quite
the right thing to do.

But oh, what a hard thing it was! She did not see how she was ever going
to face life alone under such hard, queer conditions without Doctor
Philip, without dear Mrs. Margery and the children, without Larry,
especially without Larry. For that matter what would Larry do without
her? He needed her so, loved her so much. Poor Larry!

And suddenly Ruth sat up in bed. As clearly as if he had been in the
room with her she heard Larry's voice calling to her. She sprang up
and threw a dark blue satin negligee around her, went out of the room,
down the stairs, seeming to know by an infallible instinct where her
lover was.

On the threshold of the living room she paused. Larry was pacing the
floor nervously, his face drawn and gray in the dim light of the
flickering gas. Seeing her he made a swift stride in her direction, took
both her hands in his.

"Ruth, why did you come?" There was an odd tension in his voice.

"You called me, didn't you? I thought you did." Her eyes were wondering.
"I heard you say 'Ruth' as plain as anything."

He shook his head.

"No, I didn't call you out loud. Maybe I did with my heart though. I
wanted you so."

He dropped her hands as abruptly as he had taken them.

"Ruth, I've got to marry you. I can't go on like this. I've tried to
fight it, to be patient and hang on to myself as Uncle Phil wanted me to.
But I can't go on. I'm done."

He flung himself into a chair. His head went down on the table. The clock
ticked quietly on the mantel. What was Death upstairs to Time? What were
Youth and Love and Grief down here? These things were merely eddies in
the great tide of Eternity.

For a moment Ruth stood very still. Then she went over and laid a hand on
the bowed head, the hand that wore the wedding ring.

"Larry, Larry dear," she said softly. "Don't give up like that. It
breaks my heart." There was a faint tremor in her voice, a hint of tears
not far off.

He lifted his head, the strain of his long self mastering wearing thin
almost to the breaking point at last, for once all but at the mercy of
the dominant emotion