"He shall not go on eating out our lives. I have dawdled with him
weakly, pitifully, but I did it in my hope to save him. I tried to save
him for his own sake, Ruth, truly,--as truly as for her sake and ours;
and I wanted to save his work with him,--his church, his and hers; so
much of it is hers. Oh, Ruth, I love that little bird-box, spite of all
its spunky beliefs and twittering complacencies. I wanted to save it and
him; and over and over there has seemed such good ground of hope in him.
It's been always so unbelievable that he should utterly fail us.
Ruth, if you could have seen his contrition the night I tore up that
shameful, servile resignation! I don't need to see Isabel to know he
is wearing the soul out of her. You needn't have answered one of my
questions,--which I honor you for answering so unwillingly; Mrs. Morris
gave me their answer in five minutes, though we talked only of
investments. And Mrs. Morris needn't have given it; to see Arthur
himself is enough. All the genuineness has gone out of the man,--out of
his words, out of his face, out of his voice. I wonder it hasn't gone
from all of us, driven out by this smirking masquerade into which he
has trapped us."

"Have you determined what to do?" asked the sister, gazing into the
fire.

"Not yet. But I sha'n't go back West. Flight doesn't avail. And, Ruth"--

"Yes, brother; you've cabled?"

"I have. He'll come at once, this time." A step on the porch drew the
speaker to the door.

The telegram from the capital had come. But until its bearer had gone
again and was out of hearing down the street the young man lingered in
the porch. His mind was wholly on that evening when Isabel had passed
with the lantern. Would she pass now? From the idle query he turned to
go in, when Ruth came out, and they stayed another moment together.
Presently their ear caught a stir at the side of the Morris cottage.

"Hmm," murmured Ruth half consciously, and, with a playful shudder at
the cold, whispered, "Come in, come in!"

But then quickly, lest this should carry a hint of distrust, she tripped
in alone, closed the door, and glided to the bright hearth. There a
moment of waiting changed her mind. She ran again to the door, and began
to say as she threw it open, "My brother! you'll catch your"--

But no brother was there.

XV

THE THIN ICE BREAKS

Isabel, who had never confessed her trouble to her mother until now, had
this evening told all there was