an't you
understand? If I hadn't played foolish you would never have let me
wander with you--you just said so. I knew that, and I was selfish,
lonely--and I didn't want to give you up. You can't blame me. When a
man meets with genuine comradeship for the first time in his
life--the kind he has always wanted, but has grown to believe doesn't
exist--he's bound to win a crumb of it for himself, it costs no
more than a trick of foolishness. Surely you understand?"

"Oh, I understand! I'm understanding more and more every minute--'tis
the gift of your tongue, I'm thinking--and I'm wondering which of us
will be finding it the pleasantest." She flashed a look of
unutterable scorn upon him. "If ye were not half-witted, would ye
mind telling me how we came to be taking the wrong road at the
church?"

The tinker choked.

"Aye, I thought so. Ye lied to me."

"No, not exactly; you see--" he floundered helplessly.

"Faith! don't send a lie to mend a lie; 'tis poor business, I can
promise ye."

"Well,"--the tinker's tone grew dogged--"was it such a heinous sin,
after all, to want to keep you with me a little longer?"

The fire in Patsy's eyes leaped forth at last. "Sin, did ye
say? Faith! 'tis the wrong name ye've given it entirely. 'Twas
amusement, ye meant; the fun of trading on a girl's ignorance
and simple-heartedness; the trick of getting the good makings of
a tale to tell afterward to other fine gentlemen like yourself."

"So you think--"

"Aye, I think 'twas a joke with ye--from first to last. Maybe ye
made a wager with some one--or ye were dared to take to the road in
rags--or ye did it for copy; ye're not the first man who has done the
like for the sake of a new idea for a story. 'Twas a pity, though, ye
couldn't have got what ye wanted without making a girl pay with her
self-respect."

The tinker winced, reaching out a deprecatory hand. "You are wrong;
no one has paid such a price. There are some natures so clear and
fine that chance and extremity can put them anywhere--in any
company--without taking one whit from their fineness or leaving one
atom of smirch. Do you think I would have brought you here and risked
your trust and censorship of my honor if you had not been--what you
are? A decent man has as much self-respect as a decent woman, and the
same wish to keep it."

But Patsy's comprehension was strangely deaf.

"'Tis easy enough trimming up poor actions with grand words. There'd
have been no need of