hat he
was going to say. She continued to sit motionless, a leaden weight upon
her lips.

"You and me have spoke some hard things to each other in our time,
Charity; and there's no good that I can see in any more talking now. But
I'll never feel any way but one about you; and if you say so we'll drive
down in time to catch that train, and go straight to the minister's
house; and when you come back home you'll come as Mrs. Royall."

His voice had the grave persuasive accent that had moved his hearers at
the Home Week festival; she had a sense of depths of mournful tolerance
under that easy tone. Her whole body began to tremble with the dread of
her own weakness.

"Oh, I can't----" she burst out desperately.

"Can't what?"

She herself did not know: she was not sure if she was rejecting what he
offered, or already struggling against the temptation of taking what
she no longer had a right to. She stood up, shaking and bewildered, and
began to speak:

"I know I ain't been fair to you always; but I want to be now.... I want
you to know... I want..." Her voice failed her and she stopped.

Mr. Royall leaned against the wall. He was paler than usual, but his
face was composed and kindly and her agitation did not appear to perturb
him.

"What's all this about wanting?" he said as she paused. "Do you know
what you really want? I'll tell you. You want to be took home and took
care of. And I guess that's all there is to say."

"No... it's not all...."

"Ain't it?" He looked at his watch. "Well, I'll tell you another thing.
All I want is to know if you'll marry me. If there was anything else,
I'd tell you so; but there ain't. Come to my age, a man knows the things
that matter and the things that don't; that's about the only good turn
life does us."

His tone was so strong and resolute that it was like a supporting arm
about her. She felt her resistance melting, her strength slipping away
from her as he spoke.

"Don't cry, Charity," he exclaimed in a shaken voice. She looked up,
startled at his emotion, and their eyes met.

"See here," he said gently, "old Dan's come a long distance, and we've
got to let him take it easy the rest of the way...."

He picked up the cloak that had slipped to her chair and laid it about
her shoulders. She followed him out of the house, and then walked across
the yard to the shed, where the horse was tied. Mr. Royall unblanketed
him and led him out into the road. Charity got into the bu