all-potent charm that love lends to the face, she saw in her glass.

"Ah, God help me!" she cried, clasping her hands high above her head,
and went forth.

These few moments Barney had spent in a fierce struggle to regain
the mastery over the surging passion that was sweeping like a tempest
through his soul. As her door opened he rose to meet her; but as his
eyes fell upon her standing in the soft rose-shaded light of the room,
her attitude of mute appeal, the rare, rich loveliness of her face and
form again swept away all the barriers of his control. She took one step
toward him. With a swift movement he covered his face with his hands and
sank to his chair.

"O God! O God! O God!" he groaned. "And must I lose her!"

"Why lose me, Barney?" she said, gliding swiftly to him and dropping to
her knees beside him. "Why lose me?" she repeated, taking his head to
her heaving bosom.

The touch of pity aroused his scorn of himself and braced his manhood.
Not for himself must he think now, but for her. The touch of self makes
weak, the cross makes strong. What matter that he was giving up his
life in that hour if only she were helped? He rose, lifted her from her
knees, set her in a chair, and went back to his place.

"Barney, let me come to you," she pleaded. "I'm sorry I went--"

"No," he said, his voice quiet and steady, "you must stay there. You
must not touch me, else I cannot say what I must."

"Barney," she cried again, "let me explain."

"Explain? There is no need. I know all you would say. These people are
nothing to you or to me. Let us forget them. It matters not at all that
you went with them. I am not angry. I was at first insane, I think. But
that is all past now."

"What is it, Barney?" she asked in a voice awed by the sadness and
despair in the even, quiet tone.

"It is this," he replied; "we have come to the end. I must not hold you
any more. For two years I have known. I had not the courage to face it.
But, thank God, the courage has come to me these last two days."

"Courage, Barney?"

"Yes. Courage to do right. That's it, to do right. That is what a man
must do. And I must think for you. Our lives are already far apart and I
must not keep you longer."

"Oh, Barney!" cried Iola, her voice breaking, "let me come to you! How
can I listen to you saying such terrible things without your arms about
me? Can't you see I want you? You are hurting me!"

The pain, the terror in her voice and in her eye