t! You couldn't! Especially now! Oh, darling,
you're all I've got in the world.... Can't you see it would break my
heart?"

"You needn't worry about it, sister mine." A sad shake of his head
emphasized his reply. "Tess won't marry me. She knows I love her and
want to care for her, but she won't let me. She sticks there in that
wretched shanty, alone with her trouble and refuses every offer I make.
Her courage is splendid. I love her for it, although I'm torn to pieces
with anxiety."

"And I never knew," Helen mused. "I thought--I thought it was--just you
were charitable and kind."

"No, it wasn't that. I've loved her since the first, but she couldn't
love me, that's all. Then this awful thing happened." The deepening
lines in his face and his twitching lips revealed the intensity of his
solicitude. "Have you heard anything about her?"

"Yes. A man by the name of Brewer, one of the squatters, brought me a
message."

"Yes, yes!" interrupted the man, very impatiently.

Helen pressed her face against his arm. She divined the pain he was
suffering. How was she to soften the hurt her answer would inflict, even
her loving heart couldn't imagine.

"She has a baby boy," she whispered.

"God!" groaned Deforrest.

"The baby was born a few days ago, and every day the squatter's been at
our house, ostensibly to sell something, but really to tell me about
her.... I saw him this morning, and he says they are both doing nicely.
Forrie, don't you think--" There was something in her brother's stricken
face that broke off her question.

"Don't I think what, dear?" He got up and resumed his restless pacing up
and down.

"Oh, I want you to be happy. Couldn't you possibly--forget you've loved
her?"

"No, I can't," and he came to a standstill in front of her. "I might as
well be truthful, dear, as long as you know this much.... If Tessibel
will marry me, I'll take her and the boy--" he choked, paused a few
seconds and went on. "I'll take them both away from Ithaca. It's the
only happiness in store for me, and I believe I could make her happy,
too."

"I can't bear the thought of it," cried Helen, desperately. "Please
don't think I'm meddling, but has she told you anything?"

"No. Some one has mistreated the child shamefully, but she won't tell
anything about it."

"Poor little girl!" sighed Mrs. Waldstricker. "How I wish now I'd done
more for her! I might have, you know."

The lawyer raised his hand deprecatingly.

"Wh