Lou-Jane laughed with delight. And, looking very handsome all the while,
she said with mock humility: "No one would consider me a rival."

Jim told Belle every word of it; he was simplicity itself in such
things; he didn't seem to have any idea of the game. He was wholly
oblivious of the little cloud which his anecdote left on her. It was a
little cloud, but many little clouds can make a canopy of gloom and
beget a storm. Then came the words. It was at one of the church evenings
in the parsonage--a regular affair, but not soaring to the glorious
heights of a sociable--that the words were uttered which wrought a
mighty change. Jim had alluded to the inevitable journey East in
October, not half a month ahead now, when Lou-Jane Hoomer announced "I'm
going East, too. My dad is giving me a trip back to Rochester to see
grandma," she said.

"Why, Rochester is just a little run across the lake from Coulter
College," exclaimed Jim.

"Maybe I'll see you when I am there," said Lou-Jane. "What fun!"

Every one applauded and Jim said: "Well, that would make a pleasant
change in the dreary grind."

Belle's only comment was, "How nice!" and she gave no sign of special
interest; but a close observer might have seen a tightening of her lips,
a sudden tensity of look. The merry chatter of the parlour ceased not
and she seemed still a factor in all its life, but the iron had entered
her very soul. She played her part as leader, she gave no outward sign
of the agony of fear that filled her heart, but she took the earliest
reasonable time to signal Jim and steal away.

CHAPTER XLV

The Life Game

Trump cards you must have to win in the life game; and you must know how
to play them, or a much poorer hand may beat you. You must know the
exact time to play your highest trump, and there is no general rule that
is safe, but Belle had a woman's instinctive knowledge of the game.

In two weeks Jim was to leave Cedar Mountain. Belle had reasoned with
him, coaxed him, cajoled him into seeing that that was the right trail
for him. He must complete his college course, then they could marry with
the sanction of the Church and be assured of a modest living. But the
rules were strict; no ungraduated student might marry. The inadequacy of
the stipend, the necessity for singleness of aim and thought, the
imperative need of college atmosphere--these were absolute. Viewed from
any standpoint, celibacy was the one wise condition for the unt