not often that she was hysterical.
He looked down into her convulsed face. She choked for a moment, and
then, although it was not altogether a successful effort, she
laughed.

"Don't mind me," she begged. "I am a little mad to-night. I think
that the twilight here has got upon my nerves. Light the lamp,
please. Light the lamp and leave me alone for a moment while you do
it."

He obeyed, fetching some matches from his own room and setting the
lamp, when it was lit, on the table by her side. There were no tears
left in her eyes now. Her lips were tremulous, but an unusual spot
of color was burning in her cheeks. While he had been dressing, he
saw that she had tied a piece of deep blue ribbon, the color he
liked best, around her hair.

"See, I am myself now. Good night and good luck to you, Arnold! Eat
a good dinner, mind, and remember your promise."

"There is nothing more that I can do for you?" he asked.

"Nothing," she replied. "Besides, I can hear Uncle Isaac coming."

The door was suddenly opened. A thin, undersized man in worn black
clothes, and with a somber hat of soft black felt still upon his
head, came into the room. His dark hair was tinged with gray, he
walked with a pronounced stoop. In his shabby clothes, fitting
loosely upon his diminutive body, he should have been an
insignificant figure, but somehow or other he was nothing of the
sort. His thin lips curved into a discontented droop. His cheeks
were hollow and his eyes shone with the brightness of the fanatic.
Arnold greeted him familiarly.

"Hullo, Isaac!" he exclaimed. "You are just in time to save Ruth
from being left all alone."

The newcomer came to a standstill. He looked the speaker over from
head to foot with an expression of growing disgust, and he spat upon
the floor.

"What livery's that?" he demanded.

Arnold laughed good-naturedly.

"Come, Isaac," he protested, "I don't often inflict it upon you, do
I? It's something that belongs to the world on the other side, you
know. We all of us have to look over the fence now and then. I have
to cross the borderland to-night for an hour or so."

Isaac threw open the door by which he had entered.

"Get out of here," he ordered. "If you were one of us, I'd call you
a traitor for wearing the rags. As it is, I say that no one is
welcomed under my roof who looks as you look now. Why, d--n it, I
believe you're a gentleman!"

Arnold laughed softly.

"My dear Isaac," he retorted, "I am as