th of his almost roughly. The flowers fell in a gorgeous heap
between them, strewing her lap with their fresh beauty. He looked
steadily into her eyes, and she looked back into his, fearlessly and
earnestly.

"Trust me!" he said, in a strained voice. "Trust me! Believe in me! It
will come to you! Devil Marston will not let his news suffer for want of
garnishment--and you will hear! Am I asking too much to ask for your
faith and trust? It means much to me--now! It means more to me than all
of life, I believe--right now! Will you do it? Will you believe in me?
It is going to be a strong test, Miss Dudley. Answer me!"

The situation was new and strange to the girl who had never known aught
of life save that which the peaceful environs of home had disclosed.
She knew nothing of the world--of its wickedness, trials and sins. She
had never seen a strong man wrought up to a pitch like this; she had
never heard such words before, and now she but vaguely sensed their
meaning. She knew that she was trembling, but she was not afraid, for
cowardice did not run in her blood. She knew that her hand was aching
under the force he had unconsciously put upon it. Her eyes beheld the
melancholy shadows which dwelt perpetually in his; she saw the fresh
scars on his forehead and cheek where the burns had not yet healed--the
singed hair. And back of it all she seemed to see his soul, suffering,
but clean! A half sob struggled in her throat.

"I don't know what you mean!" she said, with child-like candour which
was almost pitiful. "But I know you are a man! Nothing can change that
opinion, Doctor Glenning, I do believe in you, and I have faith in you,
and trust you!"

"Thank God!" he said, huskily, and released her hand.

They sat without speaking for several minutes. Peter appeared upon the
other side of the lawn, hoe in hand, diligently searching for any weeds
which might have come up within the last few days.

"Father is not very well this morning," Julia began, her hand straying
absently among the scattered nasturtiums. "He fears a breakdown, and has
been talking a great deal of his brother, my uncle Arthur, who went west
before I was born, and from whom we haven't heard for years. We don't
know whether he's living or not, and this distresses father, for he
says he would like above all things to see him now."

"That is strange. How long has it been since you had a letter?"

"Oh, many years. Not since I was quite a little girl."